#i completely lost it at this part. i just crumbled down in tears

[levisjinchuriki]

open arms

summary - after finding out your boyfriend cheated on you, you run to nanami for comfort. he welcomes you with open arms, but there's only one problem - you're pregnant.

warning - angst, mentions of cheating, pregnant reader, crying, nanami comforting you, pregnant reader

a/n - this is the first chapter of my new series. i hope you enjoy!!

you’ve always imagined the day you'd find out you were pregnant would be one of pure joy—a moment filled with excitement and maybe even happy tears. you picture yourself holding the test in disbelief, then planning the perfect way to surprise your boyfriend with the news. it’s supposed to be magical, a moment that changes everything for the better.

but when you see the positive result, your world doesn’t fill with joy. instead, it crumbles.

the bright lines on the test feel like they mock you, a cruel contrast to the reality you’re living in. the excitement you expected never comes, replaced by a heavy knot of dread in your stomach. the moment that should have been filled with happiness turns into a nightmare.

everything falls apart before you can share the news. your boyfriend, someone you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, cheated on you.

it echoes in your mind, a brutal reminder of the reality you never thought you'd face. the betrayal stings so deeply, it feels like a physical wound—sharp, raw, and relentless. it’s not just the fact that he was unfaithful; it’s that you trusted him with everything, believed in him, and now, in the most vulnerable moment of your life, he’s torn you apart.

shock hits first. it wraps around you, numbing your senses, making it hard to process what’s happened. you feel frozen, suspended in disbelief, as if the truth hasn’t fully settled in yet. this can’t be real. he couldn’t have done this to you— not when you’re carrying his child. the weight of that thought crashes down on you, amplifying the pain until it becomes unbearable.

you never imagined he was capable of hurting you like this. you had always seen him as your partner, someone who would stand by you no matter what. but now, it’s clear that the future you thought you were building together has been ripped away. and the worst part? you didn’t just lose him—you lost the man you believed he was. the man you thought would be excited to hear about your pregnancy, who you thought would want to build a family with you.

now, the idea of facing him, of trying to confront the truth, feels impossible. how do you even begin to talk about the future when everything you trusted has crumbled? how do you tell him about the baby now that he's shattered your heart?

you can’t. the thought of looking him in the eye and seeing the face of the man who betrayed you makes you sick to your stomach. the pain is too fresh, too raw. you feel trapped in the chaos of your emotions, unsure of how to navigate the storm that’s taken over your life.

so, you do the only thing you can think of. you leave.

with trembling hands, you gather your things—clothes, phone, keys… everything you can fit into your bags. your mind races as you move through the apartment, each step heavy with the weight of what you’re leaving behind. the home that once felt warm and safe now feels suffocating, every corner tainted by his lies.

you can’t breathe in this space anymore, not with the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. so, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you pack a bag. you need distance, space to think, to process everything that’s crumbled around you. one person comes to mind as you shove the last of your belongings into your bag—nanami.

he’s always been there for you, a steady anchor in the chaos of your life. reliable, calm, and kind. someone who never judged, never hesitated to offer a listening ear when you needed to vent or cry or simply talk through your feelings. nanami is the one person you can trust completely, the only one who might be able to help you make sense of the whirlwind in your mind.

you don’t know what you’ll say to him, or even if you’ll be able to speak when you see him. but you know you need to go to him. he’s always been a grounding presence, and right now, that’s exactly what you need.

as you step outside your apartment, the night air hits you, cool and crisp against your tear-stained face. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to push down the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. you aren’t sure how nanami will react when he sees you, but there’s a small part of you that knows he’ll understand, that he’ll be there, just like he always has been.

when you arrive at nanami’s place, your heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst. you hadn’t even told him you were coming—hadn’t thought that far ahead, really. all you knew was that you needed to see him, needed someone to help you breathe through the pain. 

you raise your hand and knock on the door. the sound feels deafening in the silence, and every second you wait feels like an eternity. each passing moment feels like it stretches on forever, amplifying your fear that maybe you’ve made a mistake, that maybe you should’ve prepared something to say or that he might not be there at all.

but after what feels like ages, you hear the lock turn. as the door opens, you catch a glimpse of nanami’s face—he stands in the doorway with that familiar, calm presence. his eyes instantly shift from neutral to concerned as he takes in the sight of you standing there, tear-streaked and fragile.

“y/n” he says softly, voice is gentle. his brow furrows, and without a second thought, he steps forward. “what’s wrong? what happened?”. 

without a word, you collapse into his arms, the floodgates finally breaking as the tears you’d been holding back spill over. the weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the overwhelming uncertainty—comes crashing down all at once. nanami’s arms wrap around you, strong and reassuring, pulling you close as you bury your face in his chest. his embrace feels safe, a refuge from the storm inside you.

without a word, he guides you inside, gently closing the door behind you. he doesn’t press for details, just simply holds you, silently offering you the space to release all the pain and frustration that’s been building inside. his hand gently rubs your back in soothing circles, a steady, calming rhythm that lets you know he’s there for you, no matter what.

the tears seem endless, each sob pulling you deeper into the grief of what you’ve lost, what’s been broken beyond repair. but nanami never shifts away. he stays with you through the waves of emotions. 

as the sobs begin to subside, your body feels exhausted from the outpour of emotions. you pull back slightly, your hands trembling as you wipe at your swollen eyes, trying to catch your breath. nanami looks at you with nothing but kindness and concern, his gaze never wavering. 

the familiar warmth of his apartment is comforting, a sharp contrast to the coldness of the world you’ve just left behind. he leads you to the couch, and after a few moments of silence, he speaks softly.

“what did he do?” nanami asks softly, breaking the silence. his voice is filled with quiet concern. you can feel the tension in the question —an unspoken protectiveness that nanami always seems to carry when it comes to you. his gaze remains locked on you, watching your every movement.

you hesitate, the words heavy on your tongue. saying it out loud will make it real, and part of you is still clinging to the hope that maybe it isn’t. but the look in nanami’s eyes is patient and kind, and somehow you know he can handle whatever you’re about to say.

“he… cheated on me” you whisper, the words tasting bitter as they leave your mouth. your voice cracks, and tears well up in your eyes again, but you don’t turn away. nanami’s expression hardens for a moment—his jaw tightens, and his brow furrows in silent anger. he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself before responding.

“i’m sorry” his voice filled with quiet empathy. the simplicity of his words cuts through you. there’s no judgment, no questioning of how or why. just a soft acknowledgment of the pain you’re in.

nanami has never been the biggest fan of your—now ex—boyfriend, but he’s always been respectful and supportive of your choices. you remember the few times he voiced subtle concerns, but he never once forced his opinions onto you. he’s always been like that, putting your feelings first, offering quiet advice but trusting you to navigate your own life. even now, as you sit together, you can sense the flicker of frustration beneath his calm exterior, the way his jaw tightens at the mention of your ex. but nanami’s respect for you remains at the forefront. 

“you’ve always deserved better than him” he finally says, voice low but firm. but there’s no malice, just quiet truth. 

you glance up at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. his eyes are filled with quiet conviction, and you can see the anger simmering just beneath the surface—not at you, but at the man who shattered your trust.

“i should have listened to you” you admit, the tears threatening to fall again. “you were always so careful with what you said, but i could tell…”.

nanami sighs softly. “i didn’t want to influence your decisions. i know you cared about him.” he pauses, searching for the right words. “but that doesn’t mean you should blame yourself for his actions. you loved him, and that’s not something to regret”.

the room falls quiet, the weight of his words settling between you. there’s no rush for you to speak, no pressure for you to explain any more than you’re ready to. nanami doesn’t need you to. his presence alone is enough to tell you that whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone.

“i don’t know what to do now” you confess, the words barely more than a whisper. it feels like your world has been flipped upside down, and the future you thought you had planned is now a fog of uncertainty.

“you don’t have to figure it all out right now” he says quietly. “take it one step at a time. and if you need someone, i’ll be here”. there’s something in the way he says it, in the quiet promise behind those words, that makes the ache in your chest grow.

you shake your head, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as the enormity of it all crashes down on you again. “no… nanami. i-”.

the words catch in your throat, your mind racing as you hesitate to tell him the truth, unsure of how he’ll react. the weight of the secret presses heavily on your chest. part of you wants to get it out, to confide in him because nanami has always been the one person you could trust, but this feels different. bigger. more complicated.

he watches you closely, sensing your hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly. “you can tell me. whatever it is” he encourages softly. you shake your head.

“i’m pregnant” you blurt out. the moment the words hang in the air, the weight of it seems to multiply. nanami’s expression doesn’t change immediately. your heart hammers in your chest as you search his face, terrified of what he might say, of how he might react. you hadn’t planned on telling him—hadn’t planned on telling anyone so soon—but now it’s out there, and there’s no taking it back.

there’s a beat of silence, and it feels like the air in the room shifts. as you wait for his reaction, a mix of fear and uncertainty tightening your stomach. what if this changes everything? what if he thinks differently of you now?

nanami's brows knit together, concern deepening in his gaze, but it’s not the kind of panic or shock you were dreading. he’s silent for a moment and you can see the wheels turning behind his calm exterior. he takes a deep breath, processing the weight of what you’ve just shared.

nanami nods slowly, his eyes darkening with emotion as he absorbs the full gravity of your situation. you wonder if you’ve just burdened him with too much, if it was fair to drop this on him. 

“does he know?” nanami asks quietly, his voice laced with concern, but not for the man who betrayed you. his focus is entirely on you, on how you’re feeling, on what you need right now.

you shake your head. “i didn’t get a chance to tell him… before i found out about… everything”. the silence that follows feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. nanami doesn’t rush to fill it, or react with shock or panic like you feared. instead, he sits there, absorbing it all, his gaze never leaving yours. he’s processing.

finally, he speaks, his voice soft and measured. 

"you did the right thing by leaving" nanami says firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "you don’t owe him anything, especially not after what he did. your priority now is taking care of yourself and your baby".

your brows furrow. "but how?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "i can’t do this alone, nanami”. your confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable. it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud—how truly terrified you are. the future feels like an impossible mountain to climb, and you don’t even know where to begin.

nanami’s gaze softens as he watches the fear ripple across your face. “you’re not alone” he says, his voice quiet but full of conviction. “we’ll take it one step at a time together… if you want”.

his words hang in the air, and for a moment, you're stunned into silence. you blink, trying to process what he just said. his offer is staggering, something you hadn’t expected. you know nanami is always there for you, always supportive, but this feels like more than you could have ever asked for.

“i can’t ask you to do that” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

nanami’s expression remains steady, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “you’re not asking” he says. “i’m offering”. his words are assertive, but true. the fact that he’s willing to stand by you, to support you through this painful time, makes the path ahead seem a bit more manageable.

“you… you’re serious?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. your mind races, a mix of disbelief and cautious hope swirling together. nanami’s expression doesn’t waver. his steady gaze meets yours, full of quiet determination. 

“of course i’m serious” he says softly, grounding you in a way you didn’t know you needed. “i wouldn’t offer if i wasn’t”. you search his face for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. he’s genuine, his offer coming from a place of deep care. the realization makes your chest tighten with emotion.

you look up at him, feeling the tears welling up again, but this time they’re different. there’s something in his words, in the way he looks at you with such steady resolve, that lifts some of the weight off your shoulders. he’s not just saying it—he means it. 

“this is too much, nanami… i don’t even know what’s coming next” you admit, your voice shaky as you try to hold back the fresh wave of tears. “i don’t want to be a burden”.

he frowns. “you’re not a burden” he says, his tone firm but gentle. “you’re important to me. and i want to help you because i care about you”. nanami’s presence, his unshakeable support, is something you hadn’t realized how much you needed until now. the thought of having someone so steadfast and compassionate by your side brings a small, but significant sense of hope. nanami’s offer of help, his willingness to be there for you, makes the future feel a little less daunting. 

“i don’t know what to say” your voice barely above a whisper but full of heartfelt gratitude. 

nanami gives a reassuring smile. “you don’t have to say anything. just know that i’m here for you. whatever you need, however you need it”. 

the promise in his words and the kindness in his eyes offer a fragile yet comforting sense of security. it’s a start, a small but vital lifeline, and for now, it’s enough.

“okay” you reply. a bit of the tension eases from your shoulders, the simple act of accepting his offer giving you a small measure of peace. nanami’s presence is a comforting constant, and knowing that you have someone to lean on makes the uncertainty ahead feel just a little more bearable.

you’re still overwhelmed, still scared, but you’re not alone anymore. with nanami by your side, you have a place to begin navigating the path ahead, one step at a time.

“you’ve had a long day. you should get some rest” nanami says, his voice steady but filled with quiet care.

there’s no judgment in his tone, no impatience—only concern. the enormity of the day’s events is catching up to you, and your body aches with exhaustion. you’ve been running on adrenaline, on heartbreak, but now that you’re here, safe with him, the exhaustion hits you all at once. 

nanami stands and gently guides you toward the guest room, his hand briefly resting on your shoulder—a grounding touch that keeps you tethered to the present. you don’t resist. you trust him, and right now, trusting anyone feels like a monumental feat. he walks beside you, his movements calm and deliberate, as if to assure you that there’s no rush, no urgency anymore. you don’t have to run from the pain here.

when you reach the guest room, it’s quiet, a comforting kind of quiet that lets you breathe.  the room is simple, but the calmness of it wraps around you, offering a small but much-needed relief from the storm in your head.

nanami sets the bag you packed down before making the bed for you. he smooths out the sheets with the same attention to detail he’s shown you all night—precise, thoughtful, gentle. the way he moves through the small space is unhurried, as though he understands that what you need most right now is comfort, not words. his actions speak louder than anything he could say.

once the bed is made, he turns to you, his eyes meeting yours with that same reassurance. "you can stay here as long as you want” he offers quietly, his sincerity evident in every word. the weight of his kindness, his unspoken promise to be there, nearly overwhelms you. you smile at him gratefully and thank him for everything.

nanami lingers for a moment, watching you with a careful gaze, before he steps toward the door. “i’ll be in my room if you need anything” he says, his tone soft but reassuring, like a promise that no matter how broken you feel, he’s not going anywhere.

as the door closes gently behind him, the silence of the room feels different—not empty, but safe. nanami’s presence, even though he’s no longer in the room, lingers like a protective shield. you take a slow breath, your shoulders sagging as the tension in your body begins to release. you allow yourself to collapse onto the bed, the softness of the mattress cradling you. 

the exhaustion tugs at your eyelids, and it’s not long before sleep pulls you under. nanami’s steady presence, his unwavering support, gives you a sense of hope that you’ll be able to face what’s coming. with him by your side, the impossible doesn’t seem so insurmountable anymore.

[manny-jacinto]

THE IRON CLAW (2023) dir. Sean Durkin

[moyazaika]

indulgence.

m! yandere x gn! reader / nsfw; shadows, phantom limbs, tongues, a degree of infantilisation. stalking && obsessive thoughts. ( mdni. )

beware; for here there be monsters, and this one is hungry.

“oh, there you are, sweetheart,” he drawls, and you feel something wet and slithering against the hollow of your throat, over the drool on your slack jaw and right up to your swollen lips, which part for him in silent submission. “you taste delicious. far sweeter than any cloying nectar.”

“i think i might just…” your back arches against the soft tablecloth he has you laid over, flushed skin slotting up right against an abyss; shivering against the yawning chasm of his own body (could you call it that?) which threatens to devour you whole. through the darkness, you can make out the shape of a man barely-there. pathetic glimpses of the features of your generous host.

“yes…” two more tongues, you miraculously manage to count through the daze of your poor, confused mind—squirming helplessly under the wet muscle as it licks the tears that well up in your eyes, whilst simultaneously lingering at your belly button, moving lower and lower—a hum, “i think i might just eat you from the inside out.”

“ah!” your hips buckle. it’s something cold, and slimy. invasive in its nature, as it slips over and under your slick skin, pulsing with need. “please, please, please.” the string of pathetic pleas leaves your bruised lips like a chant. “please, please!”

and your host, who had let you in so graciously when you showed up at the door of his crumbling manor, lost and in need of shelter, has always been nothing but generous. phantom lips brush against the shell of your ear, as he promises to take such good care of a sweet, lovely, needy human like you—

“sing for me, songbird.”

—and, you do.

the loveliest little sounds just for him, for the cold, wispy touch that digs into the plush of your thighs, holds down your arms so you’re rendered completely helpless to him (it, you remind yourself. this is no mere man) as he paws at your heaving chest, kneading and pulling and pinching. a sort of detached awe. fascination for how humans can be so soft and pliable.

“how utterly adorable.” unblinking eyes look down at you, truly a feast the way you’re laid down on his expansive dining table like one. an unwavering gaze through long, dark lashes, against impossibly cold skin. “you’re so helpless, spread out like this on my table. you should know you’re also incredibly lucky, sweetness.”

“oh, so very lucky,” he grins, flickering before your eyes, shadows lurking beneath the stolen skin that’s wrapped over weary, ancient bones. those lips of his, curling into a crooked grin. “that i only want to take good care of my little human guest. lucky—” you gasp when his nails, sharper than they were only a second ago, scrape and claw and dig into the most sensitive parts of your quivering body. “—that i’m not some big. bad. monster.”

the simulacrum of a man—his facade falls apart at the seams as he has you coming on fingers and tongues with no solid state; shadows that leave you gasping through the wisps that tickle your sensitive skin, against a hand, the lithe shadowy digits willing (eager, even) to pull you past the brink you’ve been teetering on for the past hour; an act of mercy, that has you twitching in all the right places—and coming, with a long, petulant whine, incredibly and completely undone over the palms of his cold, cold hands.

“yes; you’re quite lucky,” he hums pleasantly, when the cold shadows curl against your ankles only mere minutes later, to pull them over his broad shoulders; now solid, like the sharp, greedy teeth that sink into the swell of your chest. his eyes flicker to meet yours, as he bites down. “that i love you.”

†

hours later, when you make to leave, thanking him profusely for his generosity, for allowing you a safe place to stay and… taking such good care of you; a lost traveller, in more ways than one; you fail to notice something important.

it comes as no surprise to your host, of course. you’re too soft to be left to your own devices. too sweet and darling.

it doesn’t dawn on you that your shadow is missing.

even as the sun sets, casting you in its dying glow, there is no trace of the shape of your constant silhouette that should be projected onto the forest floor. no mark of your existence, against the marvellous red sunset.

instead, your shadow is entirely separate. no longer attached to you, it follows behind instead, curling around the thick trunks of trees and slinking across the mossy forest floor; following close behind you, stepping right into every step you take, but never quite passing by; and when you find yourself lost, inevitably, it will return back to the crumbling manor you were in only hours before.

it will phase right through the main grand doors and the walls with their old, cracked paint; right besides the being who ordered it to follow you in the first place. a pleased smile on familiar lips, when he’s told the news, rejoicing in the act of ignorance; like he didn’t already know your exact whereabouts in his own domain, “oh, is my little human lost again?”

“very well,” he’ll make a show of sighing, though there is no attempt to mask the glee in his gleaming eyes. “i suppose i’ll have to find them, again. hm, it looks like i shouldn’t have let my pretty songbird fly away so soon.”

rest assured, he doesn’t intend to make the same mistake twice.

he’ll pull on a coat, then. not because he needs it, but because he’ll drape it over your shaking shoulders when he stumbles upon you, once again, ‘completely by chance.’ sweet, helpless thing like you, clinging to him in the darkness of the forest.

he descends the steps of his crumbling manor, shadows parting with every step he takes, a darkness swirling restlessly underneath cold, taut skin. he whistles a merry tune, itching to get all of his hands and tongues all over you again; driven by an insatiable hunger.

and this time, when he finds you (and he will; for there is no way you can outrun your own shadow) he intends to have his fill.

he will gorge himself, like a man long starved, on the feast that you are. oh, you’ll be dribbling down his chin and smeared all over his jaw as he works to drink you dry, and he’ll lick up every last drop. this time, the abyss doesn’t intend to let you go. you will stare into the yawning darkness and lose yourself, just as he has lost himself in you.

humans are often told not to play with their food, he recalls—

—it is a lovely thing, then, he supposes, that he was never human.

[miupow]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓。⧼ 𝐒. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 ⧽

★ pairing。seo changbin x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! friends to lovers , non-idol au , college au , roommate!changbin , stoner!changbin , marijuana and alcohol mentions , mentions of infidelity/cheating , rebounds , virginity loss , blood mention (cherry popping) , dirty talk , oral (f. rec) , size kink , praise kink , pet names , possessive behavior , squirting , high sex , inexperienced reader , experienced changbin , hair pulling , unprotected sex , resolved sexual tension

★ synopsis。your roommate, close friend and plug invites you over for a yearly halloween tradition, and also to help you forget about your cheating ex boyfriend.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! the ending is a little rushed because i wanted to make sure this was out before halloween... i'm sorry if it's bad ! ! [ 4. 0k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you stare at the text messages, rereading them a few times just to make sure you understood him right— you hadn’t spoken much to changbin at all in the last few weeks or so, especially not about your plans for that night, and part of you had been convinced that he had to have forgotten. but you should have known better than to think that about him, your roommate’s texts left unanswered as you try to hide your phone from your nosy manager. changbin would never forget something like tonight, a tradition the two of you have had since you first had moved in together, reminders everywhere from the candy on sale down to the cheap paper decorations hung up around the grocery store you worked at— it was halloween tonight, your favorite holiday, and since your freshman year of college you and changbin had set a tradition of smoking your weights in weed and watching shitty old horror movies. it was something you looked forward to every year, but this time around you couldn’t conjure up much excitement at all.

you haven’t had much excitement for anything, really, not since the fraternity changbin was pledged to hosted their yearly halloween party earlier that month. it was supposed to be a night of drinking and fun, a celebration of both the season and changbin’s best friend and frat leader chan’s birthday, but your night— and, possibly, the rest of your year— had been ruined in seconds of opening that bathroom door. because there against the sink you had found your boyfriend of four years balls deep inside your best friend.

in retrospect, you were glad you hadn’t needed to pee, because you might have pissed all over the floor in shock.

ever since, you’ve been moving through your life as though you were on autopilot, a mindless zombie as you trudged from your classes to work, from work straight to your bed. you didn’t want to give yourself time to dwell on what you were feeling, instead throwing yourself into your busy schedule to keep you distracted; you had just lost both a friend you had trusted more than anyone and the love of your life in one painful blow, and in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from falling apart entirely, you shut yourself off completely. your trust had crumbled to the point you didn’t want to confide in anyone at all, even to changbin, who you’ve always run to for comfort when you needed it the most.

the two of you had been as thick as thieves since you had first met, his silly and outgoing personality quickly worming its way into your heart— before you could even process it he had become more than just your roommate and your plug for good weed, but one of your closest friends. you’ve told him all your secrets, your dreams and worst fears, poured your heart out to him in a way that you never had with anyone before. he’s your shoulder to cry on that night at the party, cradling you against his broad chest as you soak his tee shirt in tears. he holds you that entire night, only leaving you to get something you wanted. never before had you felt so cared for in your life; not by a man, not by your ex. the intimacy overwhelmed you, and since that morning after you hadn’t said much to each other besides hello. he seems to understand that you need space and left you alone for the most part, but you can see in the way he shoots you lingering sidelong glances that he’s been growing more and more worried about you by the day. while you feel terrible about shutting him out like this, you don’t know any other way to cope. you had locked away your feelings for changbin nearly half a decade ago, and in the span of one night it all came flooding back. it confused your mind and your broken heart, and you needed time alone to think things over.

but you haven’t been doing much thinking. truthfully, you’ve been doing the complete opposite, busying yourself with work and your studies so the point that you didn’t have the time to think anything at all. when halloween came quickly approaching, you ignored it the best you could. betrayal stung like an open wound, all of your pain exposed and raw while everyone celebrates around you. the pit in your stomach grew every passing day, to the point that you felt nauseous— your tummy flips uncomfortably as you type out a reply and delete it repeatedly.

as much as you wanted to spend your night hiding in your room, you didn’t have the heart to skip out on changbin. he would understand, you knew he would, but the idea of disappointing him over something this important hurt nearly as bad as your breakup did.

you’re a big girl, you remind yourself, tapping on your cellphone’s keyboard once again, big girls don’t run away from their problems.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

changbin is already high when you make it home, skunk smoke billowing in your face when you open the front door. you toe off your shoes and join him in the living room, your roommate’s short body sprawled out on the couch as he flips through tv stations— his unfocused red eyes light up at the bag of candy you toss onto the coffee table, immediately abandoning his blunt in the ashtray to reach for the bright packaging.

“what ever happened to ‘hello’? ‘how are you’?” you tease, setting down the case of beers you promised. “i go through all this trouble, and this is the greeting i get?”

changbin’s already stuffed a few candies in his mouth, flashing you a dopey grin as he picks back up the joint to offer it to you. “bad day, huh?”

“just tired.” you reply shortly, taking the blunt from changbin’s outstretched hand before flopping down on the couch beside him with a heavy sigh. your head quickly found its usual spot in the crook of his shoulder, your lips wrapping around the blunt to take a long, deep hit as you curl up against his side. the familiar scent of changbin’s cologne envelopes you like a warm blanket, easing all the nerves that thrummed just under your skin— he wraps his arm around your shoulders without a word, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin as you blow smoke into the air. you couldn’t for the life of you understand why you were so hesitant to come home anymore, changbin tearing down your walls in seconds without even having to say a word. it was so, so dangerous to be around him when your heart ached like it did, especially with how it skips a beat every time he lets out a content little hum. you meet his red-rimmed, hazy eyes when you pass the blunt back to him, giving him a wobbly, unsure smile; changbin just shakes his head and giggles, the endearing way in which he scrunches up his nose just adding to the heaviness in your chest.

your ex hated it when the two of you hung out like this. he threw a fit every time, accusing you of sneaking around with changbin behind his back, never listening when you repeated over and over again that you were just friends.

you aren’t even his type, you think to yourself, that bitterness you’ve kept stored away rearing its ugly head. you were nothing at all like the countless girls that came and went through changbin’s life and his bed.

“c’mon, talk to me.” changbin presses play on some old shitty slasher movie you’re pretty sure you’ve seen before. “tell me what’s going on in that cute ‘lil head of yours.”

“everything is just… a lot, right now.” you admit, snuggling against him. like a dam breaking, all the words you’ve thought over the past few weeks overflow and spill out— you tell changbin everything you’ve been hiding from him, how you feel like your supervisor is always breathing down your neck, how overwhelmed and paralyzed you’ve felt working extra hours to distract yourself from your broken heart. while the horror movie plays in the background you tell him all about how halloween has felt more to you like a funeral than a holiday, the campy screams from the tv oddly fitting background noise for how you were feeling… especially with how your ex refusing to let you go quietly.

“he won’t leave me alone, bin,” you groan, taking another deep hit off the blunt. it had gone out from all your talking, but changbin was quick to relight it for you as you pressed it between your lips. “he keeps texting and calling, apologizing and telling me he loves me… i don’t know how much more i can take.”

changbin curls his lip, tossing his lighter onto the coffee table. “why are you even answering him? just block that asshole already.”

“i dunno—”

“he never treated you right anyway. piece of shit. you should to be treated like a princess, like a queen— fuck anyone who breaks your heart. he doesn’t deserve you.”

“i can’t believe he would do this…” you sniffle, trying your best not to cry. “he told me we were going to be together forever, that we were going wait until marriage… and then he goes and does this?!”

“wait, wait—” changbin interrupts, his red eyes widening. “what about waiting until marriage?”

you look up at him oddly. “he wanted to save ourselves for virginities for our wedding night. sanctioned by the lord and all that. i’m so stupid, believing his pastor’s son bullshit… i should have known it was too good to be true.”

“you’re not stupid,” changbin scolds. “i just had no idea that you were both…”

“virgins?” you prompt with a scoff. “well, i thought we both were, but i guess not!”

changbin looks at you for an uncomfortably long time, blinking owlishly. “i didn’t know you were a virgin.”

“you never asked…” you scoot away from his side awkwardly, casting him a nervous anybody sideways glance. you never thought that changbin would judge you for being a virgin, but maybe you had put too much trust in him. at this point, you struggled to put much trust in.

“woah, hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or anything!” changbin interjects, “if that’s what you want to do i’ll support you. i’m just… surprised, i guess. you’ve really never done anything? like at all?”

“i mean, i’ve kissed before,” you mumble, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “and like, touching and stuff, but not anything past that.”

“not even oral?” changbin gasps.

you shake your head.

the horror movie has been all but forgotten on the tv screen, the suspenseful music oddly fitting for the fluttering in your chest. changbin studies you through the smoke clouding the air, the look in his bloodshot eyes impossible to decipher— you feel so small under his gaze, squirming and shifting in your spot as he scrutinizes you. you open your mouth to speak, but changbin beats you to it.

“have you ever touched yourself?”

you blanche, hands itching to shoot up and hide your face. “um….. yes.”

why were you even telling him this? your sexual experience was none of his business, no matter how close the two of you were… yet you can’t help but feel like he somehow deserves to know. especially when he was the one you always thought about when your hand slid between your legs.

“have you ever made yourself cum?” changbin asks, an unfamiliar, dark edge in his voice making you shiver.

“i… i don’t think i can.” you admit softly, face burning. you try to evert your eyes but changbin is having none of it, gently grabbing your chin and turning you to meet his sharp gaze.

“what do you mean you don’t think you can?!” changbin prods, raising an eyebrow. “everyone can cum, baby. you’ve just been doing it wrong.”

the pet name slips out so fast you nearly miss it, your head spinning and your tummy twisting— never in your wildest dreams had you thought changbin would call you something like that so casually. his rough fingers burn against your skin, holding your chin so firmly yet so gently, such a dominating act turning your brain to mush.

changbin takes your silence and blank stare as some kind of answer, grinning down at you like a predator. “do you wanna know what it’s like to cum?”

you blink. what kind of question was that? “y-yes.” you answer after a pregnant pause, voice barely above a whisper. changbin’s grip on your chin tightens.

“i can show you if you’d like.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you had always wanted your first time to be special. you had dreamed of giving it to your future husband the night of your wedding, a special occasion with candles and rose petals. you had never wanted it any other way before.

but the man you had thought would one day be your husband had you second guessing everything you had ever believed about yourself. you had believed wholeheartedly that he too was saving his virginity for when you got married, but he had given it away like it was nothing behind your back. how many other girls had he fucked besides your best friend? how long had he been lying to you about being your forever? did it even matter now, after the dust settled and found you yourself in changbin’s arms? you were sure now more than ever that that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

it feels so right with your back pressed up against the couch, skirt rolled up your hips and your legs spread wide to expose your simple white panties. part of you wished that you had picked a nicer pair to wear, but changbin doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, he admires your pussy as if he had never seen one before, a raw hunger burning in his eyes as he watches your cunt twitch and throb. he can see every movement with your panties so wet, the sopping fabric clinging to the curves of your pussy lips. you can feel every one of his breaths fan over your mound, his face so close with him kneeling below you on the carpet. you fight the overwhelming urge to cover yourself, gnawing on your lip to keep from squealing when he leans over to shove his face in between your legs.

“i’ve wanted to eat this pussy so fucking bad,” changbin growls, his hot mouth trailing against the outline of your mound through your panties, “you have no fucking idea. god, i need to taste you—no, no, keep these panties on, baby. they look so pretty on you.”

changbin shoos your hand away before hooking a finger under the gusset and pulling them to the side, exposing how ridiculously wet you’ve gotten. you’re so horny it aches, fluttering pussy lips wet and sticky— changbin licks his lips at the sight, his pretty brown eyes even prettier when he’s stoned, spit-slick lips blowing cold air against your cunt to watch how you twitch. you so exposed like this, thick thighs spread obscenely as he studies your most intimate areas, and it just adds to the building arousal in your belly. you have half a mind to beg, but changbin beats you to it, dragging the flat of his tongue between your fluttering pussy lips. the unfamiliar sensation makes you shake, every slide of his slippery tongue filling you with desire and anticipation. the pleasure is already too much for you to bear and he’s barely even begun, strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he slobbers wet kisses all over your cunt up to your cute throbbing clit, the engorged bundle of nerves visibly trembling as it peeks out from its little hood. changbin slurps it up between his lips as if it were the sweetest candy, his eyes screwing shut in delight with his face buried in your pussy.

the weed just adds to every sensation, your mind fuzzy and blank except for the intense bursts of pleasure that changbin generously gives to you— you easily lose yourself in it, your hips bucking against his face and your hands shooting down to tangle themselves in his tousled hair. pulling against the strands earns you a deep, primal groan from deep in changbin’s chest. “b-binnie,” you warble brokenly, “it feels so good~”

“yeah?” changbin smirks against your cunt, lips releasing your clit with a wet pop. “you like having your pussy ate, baby?”

“mhm, mhm—” you nod pathetically, using your grip on changbin’s hair to try and pull him impossibly closer to you. he responds in kind, adjusting his grip on your panties before abruptly shoving his tongue inside your weeping little hole.

the sudden sensation makes you gasp, your wide baked red eyes watching in rapture as changbin devours you whole; he shakes his head vigorously as he tongue fucks you deeper, eats you like a starving animal, his big hand on your thigh holding you down so you have no other choice but to take whatever he gives you. the pleasure is overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best way, elevating your high to a level you’ve never quite reached. you felt like you were floating and falling all the same, waves of ecstasy crashing over you and pulling you under. one of changbin’s hands leaves your shaking thigh to circle your clit with his thumb, his chuckle reverberating against your heated skin when you cry out. the pleasure reaches a breaking point, so overwhelming that blood rushes in your ears—

“i-i think i’m gonna pee!” you suddenly shriek, entire body quivering in his hold, the building tension in your gut threatening to overflow. changbin just shoves his tongue deeper inside your hole, nearly folding you in half against the couch cushions with your legs dangling up in the air. “wait, baby, please—”

“shh, oh sweetie, you’re not gonna pee,” changbin coos, thumb working in tandem with his lips and tongue. “you’re gonna cum. you’re gonna squirt all over my face, fuck— make a mess for me, baby, come on.”

it feels as if the world stops spinning as you reach your climax, your vision going white as you toss your head back and scream with release. clear liquid pulses from your cunt, drenching changbin’s face as he slurps your hole greedily. it soaks the bedsheets, so much that it makes a puddle under your ass— changbin helps you ride out your orgasm with his tongue on your clit, drawing slow circles against the oversensitive bud until you swatted at him to let up.

“holy shit, you really did squirt, that’s so fucking hot… how’d that feel, baby?”

“feelssogood~” you moan, legs still shaking from the aftershocks. changbin unwraps them from his neck and pushes himself off the carpet—in a flash he has you underneath him with your knees to your chest, his broad musled body pressing you deep into the couch cushions.

“you want another one?” he grins down at you wickedly, dark eyes sparkling.

“yesyesyes—!” you squeal in excitement, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweatpants, your dripping pussy getting them wet and aiding in the delicious slide. the size of his bulge both frightens and excites you, thicker than you had ever thought or dreamed about; you grind against him needily, ignoring how your panties dug into your flesh, ready for him to take his sweats off, but the feeling of changbin’s blunt fingers against your opening makes you stop and frown. “n-no, no, not your fingers— i want y-you inside!”

“but bunny, you’ve never taken cock before,” changbin murmurs, “i need to stretch you out, i don’t want to hurt you…”

“please, i’m so fucking wet, i can take it! i’m so empty it hurts, binnie, want your big cock…”

“fuck.” changbin spits, eyes screwing shut as he grits his teeth; he breathes like he’s trying to compose himself, fat cock twitching against your hole. “fuck, fuck, alright— i’m gonna go slow, okay? tell me if it hurts.”

with one hand he tugs his sweatpants down his thick thighs, his cock bobbing up to slap against his belly. the size of it makes you gasp, flushed angry red and leaking pearly precum from the tip. thick, throbbing veins wrap around the velvety shaft, adding to the daunting girth that made your cunt clench around nothing.

“like what you see?” changbin teases, wrapping a fist around himself and slowly stroking. he slaps his wet, bulbous tip against your clit two, three times, snickering at your needy whine.

“i-it’s so big!” you whimper brokenly, bottom lip wobbling. “it’s so— i need it inside, please!”

changbin can’t take the waiting anymore, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your winking hole; before you can react his cockhead is pushing against your rim and popping inside. you throw your head back and wail, eyes shooting wide in shock, pussy spasming and clamping down tight on his thick cock as he slowly and carefully pushes deeper and deeper inside. “oh fuuckk, baby, so fucking tight! it’s a lot, i know, you gotta try and loosen up for me,” changbin coos, deliciously condescending as his fat length bullied deeper and deeper into your tight virgin hole. the stretch is almost unbearable, burning even with your pussy this soaking wet— you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, grabbing ahold of changbin’s bicep tightly. “you can take it though, right sweetie?”

he stops halfway to let you adjust, your tight little hole clamping around him like a vice. his cock feels so much bigger inside of you, so unrelenting you feared it would tear you in half. you blink away tears as you struggle to take him, your gummy walls torn between pushing him out and sucking him in deeper. slowly, the pain begins to give way to mounting pleasure, stagnating as changbin lays still inside of you. “i-i’m ready,” you quietly whimper, cunt pulsating.

“you sure?” changbin asks, humming when you shake your head. “i’m gonna move now, let me know if it’s too much—"

there’s a little bit blood mixed with the slick covering his cock when he slowly and carefully slides it out, your pussy squelching obscenely and your hole left gaping. changbin shushes your frightened whimper, pulling you to his chest with a hand cradling your head. ”shh, it’s okay, you’re doing so good~” he coos into your hair, pushing himself slowly back inside of you. “i just popped your cherry, baby. you’re taking my cock like such a good girl, aren’t you?”

his cock hits even deeper than before, all the way to the hilt— his fat mushroom head kisses your cervix with an explosion of red hot pleasure, pressing against it so hard it felt as if he would push through all the way into your empty womb. the rhythm he quickly falls into is punishing, pounding you into the mattress at a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every mean thrust of his hips. “you’re so fucking deep!” you hiccup, burying your face in changbin’s chest.

“yeah, baby? can you feel me in your tummy?” he laughs, his voice infuriatingly calm and collected compared to the way his hips smacked against yours impossibly hard and fast. “fuck, your pussy feels so good, better than i’ve ever dreamed— i’ve always wanted to fuck you so bad, since i’ve met you, bunny! am i making you feel good, princess? is this pussy mine now?”

“yes!” you sob, unable to form any other words, form any coherent thoughts at all; you’re fucked completely dumb in seconds, brain completely empty except for how much pleasure coursed through your body, how perfectly changbin was fucking you, how that fire in your tummy grew hotter and hotter, about to burst like a volcano erupting. “i’m yours, always been yours— this pussy is yours, binnie, fuck!”

“that’s my good little girl. forget about everything except this cock, okay? you’re all mine now, aren’t you? oh my god, this is the best halloween ever.”

[marysfics]

Shifting Glances 2

Week after week, you see her in the waiting room.

Angst, EMDR, Comfort, Fluff

Part 1

Note: In this story, you'll find references to EMDR therapy. I’ve undergone EMDR therapy myself for several years, and while it has been challenging, it has also brought me relief. It's important to note that EMDR can be a unique experience for everyone. The way it's depicted here reflects my personal journey. If your experience with EMDR is different, that's completely okay. Feel free to share your thoughts, but let's all remember to approach these discussions with kindness and respect for one another's experiences.

The next time you see Alexia, it’s different.

It’s not the waiting room glance or the brief nod of acknowledgment. This time, she’s sitting across from you at a small café just down the street from the clinic. The air is heavy with the scent of coffee and the quiet hum of conversation, but you feel like you’re in a bubble, isolated from the world. The connection between you has grown since that night outside the clinic, and though you’ve met up a few times now, the weight of the unspoken things between you has only intensified.

You’re sipping on your drink, watching her fingers nervously trace the rim of her cup. She’s quieter today, more reserved. You can see it in the tightness of her jaw, the way her leg bounces restlessly beneath the table. She’s holding something back.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, she speaks.

“It’s my knee,” she says quietly, her voice carrying a heavy undertone of frustration. “The doctors thought it healed, you know? Two years of rehab, and I thought I was fine. But… after a few matches, it’s been acting up again.”

She looks up at you, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly undoes you.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” she admits, her voice cracking slightly. “I thought I was past it, that I could just… move on. But now I’m back to square one, and it’s messing with my head.”

You listen, the guilt already rising in your chest. You want to offer her comfort, to be there for her like you promised. But the walls you’ve built around yourself—those same walls that have protected you for so long—won’t come down. You can’t find the words, can’t let yourself be as open as she is being with you.

“I don’t think people understand,” she continues, her gaze distant, as if she’s lost in memories. “It’s not just the physical pain. It’s like… everything I worked for feels like it’s slipping away again. The surgery, the rehab, the time off—I went through all of that, and now, here I am, questioning if my body will ever be what it was. If I will ever be what I was.”

Her words hang in the air between you, thick with unspoken fears and the weight of her struggle. She’s opening up, showing you the cracks in her armor. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to do the same.

“I’m sorry, Alexia,” you say, your voice soft but hesitant. It feels like a weak offering, barely enough for the depth of what she’s sharing. “That must be really hard.”

She looks at you, her eyes searching yours, as if she’s waiting for more. Waiting for you to open up in return, to meet her vulnerability with your own.

But you can’t.

Instead, you offer a small nod, a quiet acknowledgment of her pain. You feel like a coward, sitting there with your heart locked up tight while she’s spilling hers out on the table between you.

“I just…” she hesitates, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know who I am without football. And now, with this happening again, it’s like everything I thought I’d regained is slipping away. My confidence, my mental health—everything.”

Her words hit you hard, because you understand exactly what she means. You know the feeling of losing parts of yourself, of watching pieces of your identity crumble. But still, you remain silent, trapped in your own fear.

Alexia takes a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes quickly, trying to hide the tears that are forming. “I’m sorry. I’m dumping all of this on you, and you… you barely even know me.”

“No,” you say quickly, feeling the guilt twist tighter in your chest. “I’m glad you’re telling me. I just—I don’t know how to help. I wish I could.”

You hate how hollow the words sound. She’s reaching out, and you’re standing on the edge, unable to take that leap with her.

“I don’t need you to fix anything,” she says softly, her gaze holding yours. “I just… I need someone to understand. And for some reason, I feel like you do.”

Her words make your heart ache, because she’s right. You do understand. You understand the pain, the fear, the uncertainty of not knowing who you are anymore. But the thought of opening up about it, of letting her see the parts of you that you’ve buried for so long, is terrifying.

“I wish I could be more… open,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s hard for me. There’s a lot I’m still trying to figure out.”

Alexia’s expression softens, and she reaches across the table, her hand brushing lightly against yours. It’s a small gesture, but it feels monumental.

“I get it,” she says gently. “I do. But just… promise me you’ll try. We don’t have to talk about it right now, but… when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to go through whatever it is alone.”

Her words are so kind, so understanding, and it makes you feel even worse. You’re sitting here, feeling her pain, but you can’t bring yourself to reciprocate that vulnerability. You want to, but the walls you’ve built are so high, so thick, that you don’t know how to bring them down.

“I promise I’ll try,” you say quietly, though it feels like a lie, even as you say it.

She nods, offering you a small, sad smile, as if she knows that your promise is just as fragile as you feel. And maybe she does. Maybe she knows that breaking down those walls takes time—more time than either of you might have expected.

The rest of the conversation drifts into safer territory after that. You talk about small things—her training regimen, your next therapy session, the little frustrations of everyday life. But there’s an unspoken tension between you, a knowledge that you’re both holding something back. For her, it’s the fear of losing everything she’s worked for. For you, it’s the fear of letting anyone get too close.

As you part ways, Alexia pulls you into a brief, tentative hug. It catches you off guard, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you let her hold you, if only for a moment, and in that embrace, you feel the weight of everything you haven’t said.

And as you walk home, the guilt gnaws at you. You know she’s trying to break through to you, to offer you the same understanding you’ve given her. But no matter how much you want to, you can’t let her in. Not yet.

Maybe one day.

But for now, the walls remain firmly in place, and you can only hope that when you’re finally ready to let them fall, she’ll still be there, waiting for you.

The next week, you wake up with a knot in your stomach. It’s an ominous feeling that lingers, whispering that today’s session is going to be harder than usual. You push it aside, forcing yourself to get out of bed and go through your morning routine. But the feeling doesn’t fade; it clings to you like a shadow, and you can’t shake the sense of dread.

When you arrive at the clinic, the usual air of anticipation is replaced by a heavy sense of anxiety. You check in with the receptionist and take a seat in the waiting area, your heart pounding as you wait for your therapist to call you in.

After what feels like an eternity, your therapist, Dr. Collins, finally opens the door and gestures for you to come inside. “Hi there,” she says, her tone warm and inviting, but you can sense her professional concern. “How are you feeling today?”

“Uh, not great,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t meet her gaze, focusing instead on the floor, as if it might ground you in the swirling chaos of your emotions.

Dr. Collins nods, leading you to the familiar chair in her office. “That’s understandable. EMDR can bring up a lot, especially when we’re working through difficult memories. Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

You nod, but your stomach churns as she sets up the equipment. The rhythmic beeping begins, and you know you’ll have to confront things you’d rather keep buried.

“Take a deep breath,” she instructs gently, her eyes steady on yours. “Focus on your thoughts, your feelings, and what comes up. You’re safe here.”

As the session progresses, you find yourself slipping into a dark place—a memory of a childhood fight with your mother that you thought you had buried. The anger, the confusion, the hurt—everything comes flooding back. Your breath quickens, and panic begins to rise.

“Focus on the feelings, the sensations in your body,” Dr. Collins urges, her voice a steady anchor in the storm. “You’re safe. Just let it flow.”

But it’s harder today. You feel like you’re drowning in it, and the sensations become overwhelming. Each pulse of light from the machine feels like a wave crashing over you, and the emotions threaten to pull you under.

“I can’t—I can’t do this!” you gasp, gripping the armrests of the chair.

“Just a little longer,” she replies, her voice calm yet firm. “Stay with it. You can do this.”

Finally, when the session ends, you stumble out of the office, your heart racing and your skin clammy. You feel nauseous, the world spinning around you.

“Take your time,” Dr. Collins calls after you as you exit the room. “It’s normal to feel this way after a session. Just breathe.”

But you barely hear her as you push through the waiting area, desperately needing air. You step outside, the cool breeze hitting your face like a splash of cold water. It feels like a brief reprieve, but it does little to alleviate the sickness in your stomach.

And then you see her.

Alexia is sitting in the waiting room, her knee propped up on a chair, her expression a mixture of worry and relief. The moment she sees you, her face lights up, but it quickly shifts to concern as she takes in your pale complexion and the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

“Hey!” she calls out, her voice strained with worry. She rises, limping slightly, and instinctively, you feel your heart clench. “You’re late. I was getting worried.”

“I—I had my session,” you manage to say, though your voice trembles, and you can feel the nausea rising again.

“What happened?” she asks, approaching you slowly, her brow furrowing deeper with concern. You can see the tension in her shoulders, a reminder of her own struggles, and suddenly you wish you could lean on her, but the walls are still up.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice laced with urgency. “You’re early. I thought you weren’t coming.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. “I—uh, it was… really hard today.” Your voice is shaky, and you can see the worry deepen in her gaze as she takes in your pale face.

“Come on, let’s get you some air,” she insists, her hand gently guiding your elbow. But as she moves closer, you notice the slight limp in her gait. “Wait,” you say, alarmed. “Your knee—”

“It’s fine,” she cuts you off, though her expression betrays her. “I just want to help you. Come on.”

Despite your protests, she leads you out of the clinic and into the fresh air. The moment you step outside, you feel a wave of coolness wash over you, but it’s not enough to quell the sickness rolling in your stomach. You take a moment to breathe, but Alexia is already taking charge, her determination unyielding.

“Let’s go to my place,” she says. “You need to rest. I can’t just leave you like this.”

“No, Alexia, I can’t—” you start to argue, but the look in her eyes silences you. She’s limping but still firm, her concern for you overshadowing her own struggles.

“Please,” she pleads. “Just let me take care of you for a bit. You look like you need it.”

You hesitate, torn between your desire for solitude and the undeniable pull of her concern. “Alexia, I don’t want to impose—”

“Stop.” She interrupts, her voice firm yet gentle. “You’re not imposing. You need someone, and I want to help. Just let me be there for you for once.”

The sincerity in her voice makes it hard to argue. Maybe you do need someone right now. And despite your reservations, you find yourself nodding, letting her lead you out of the clinic.

As you walk together, you can’t help but glance at her knee, concern prickling at the back of your mind. “Are you sure you’re okay to walk? I mean, you’re limping…”

Alexia shrugs it off, though you can see the grimace that flashes across her face. “It’s just a little sore from the last few recovery sessions. I’ll be fine.”

You don’t know if you believe her, but you’re too exhausted to press the matter further. The two of you reach her apartment, and she pushes the door open, ushering you inside. The familiar surroundings feel different somehow, heavier with the weight of your emotions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, leading you to the couch. “I’ll get you some water.”

You sink into the cushions, trying to settle your racing heart as you watch her move about the small space. She’s taken the time to make it her own, with photos on the walls and plants dotting the shelves. But even in this comfort, you feel a tightness in your chest, a reminder of everything you’ve just unearthed.

“Here,” she says, returning with a glass of water and a concerned expression. “Drink this.”

You take the glass, your fingers brushing against hers. The touch sends a jolt of warmth through you, and for a moment, you let yourself feel grateful for her presence. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying to focus on the water rather than the chaos in your mind.

After a few sips, you set the glass down and exhale shakily. “I’m sorry for dragging you away from your session. You didn’t have to do this.”

Alexia sits down beside you, her expression softening. “I wanted to. It’s okay to lean on someone, you know? You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, and the guilt twists in your stomach again. You want to tell her how much it means to you that she cares, how deeply you appreciate her willingness to be there. But the walls are still up, the barriers you’ve built holding you captive.

Yet beneath that weight, there’s another feeling rising within you—an overwhelming desire to feel her close, to have her warmth beside you, to let go of the isolation that’s been your constant companion. The thought scares you. The fear of vulnerability mingles with a yearning for connection, and it sends your heart racing.

“Alexia,” you find yourself saying, your voice trembling slightly. “Can we… could you stay close for a bit?”

She looks at you, surprise flickering in her eyes, but then her expression softens. “Of course. You don’t have to ask twice.”

You shift a little on the couch, turning to face her, your heart pounding in your chest. As she settles in next to you, her body fitting against yours, a wave of comfort washes over you. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a gentle spooning position. Her warmth envelops you, grounding you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

You close your eyes, grateful for her presence and the soothing rhythm of her breathing. You can feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your back, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the memories, the pain, the suffocating anxiety. All that matters is this connection, this shared space that feels both safe and terrifying.

“Is this okay?” she whispers softly, her voice a soothing balm against the tumult of your thoughts.

You nod, feeling a weight lift slightly as her embrace tightens around you. “Yeah, it’s perfect,” you murmur, though the admission feels both exhilarating and frightening. It’s one thing to crave closeness; it’s another to let someone in this deeply.

“Good,” she replies, her breath warm against your ear. “Just breathe. I’m here.”

You focus on that reassurance, letting it seep into your bones. With her close, you can almost forget the turmoil swirling within you, the fears and insecurities that cling like shadows. You let the moment wash over you, finding solace in the shared silence, the warmth radiating from her body anchoring you to the present.

As the minutes pass, the tension in your chest begins to ease. You can hear the faint sounds of the show playing in the background, but all you’re aware of is the comfort of her hold and the gentle rise and fall of her breath. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a sense of belonging.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” you finally say, the words spilling out before you can second-guess yourself.

“I’m glad too,” Alexia replies, her voice soft and steady. “You don’t have to face anything alone. I promise.”

You close your eyes tighter, trying to let that promise sink in, trying to let go of the guilt that threatens to creep back in. As you lay there, cocooned in her embrace, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the first step toward letting those walls down—one small moment of connection at a time.

[oddinarylani]

"you don't want me" | skz | pt. 1 | chan, lee know, changbin, hyunjin

9:51 pm. bang chan.

it was past midnight by now. the moon wasn’t shining. she was hidden behind great big storm clouds that’d been crying since noon. the dirt turned to slush, the pavements now a dark gray - different from their softer brighter colors underneath the sun. the only sound that triumphed through the room was the white-noise sound of the rain - beating down on the roof, on the windows, on cars outside, and on the earth. 

empty. just empty. and tired. so tired. there wasn’t a way to describe it; and you were tired of trying. you hadn’t the drive for much anymore, not for work, or friends, but you still stood out for chan. you always would. you just haven’t been good at it for the past few weeks - and he was worried to bits which was the last thing you wanted. 

maybe silence and the dreadful exhaustion of not even trying to communicate would fix things. maybe he’d get the right idea and move on. this couldn’t be good for him, no, surely not. there was better in the world, it just wasn’t the home of your arms. 

“would you talk to me?” he asks, his voice shaky - brows melted together and worried sick. and he was truly worried sick. checking his phone for any texts from you or updates, laying awake when he let the worry eat him up. 

you look up from your hands, realizing you were lost in thought. “o-oh, yeah. sorry.” 

“sorry? i just want you to talk to me. you don’t have to apologize.” he grabs at your hands, a slippery grip that shakes his stable hold, he eventually steadies his hold and looks at you with a kind of wavering certainty. he’s trying desperately to be the strength you need, but his vigor is faltering. he sees all the hope in the palms of his hands being to melt away and he hadn’t the time to sort through the hundreds of thoughts forming in the terrorous wake of that.

your hand falls slack in his own, failing in your grip of his desperate grab of your hands. chan watches every microexpression that graces your face, seeing your brows bleed together. doubt strikes your features, and you slide your hand from his grasp, shaking your head before the words leave your mouth. 

all you had to do was muster the strength to speak the words, but even then, swallowed by a kind of grief, completely blindsided by false-truths, but even then it hurt to say. 

“y-you don’t want me,,” your watery eyes can’t even meet chan’s - he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces all over the floor. 

“you’re all i want, all i have ever wanted- what do you mean.” and his voice wobbles, he wants to reach out, grab you, stabilize you - shake the sense into you, because what do you mean he doesn’t want you? he’s wanted you so terribly for so long that he let it tear him up inside. 

“i’ve been in love with you for years- i-i love you so much, you’re all i want.” he does reach out now, bracing your arms in his gentle hands when the tears spill over your cheeks and you crumble in his hold. 

“b-but i’m like,,, this- i-i don’t-” he brings your body into his arms, your chest meeting his as his big arms wrap around you and hold you tight to his body. he’s warm, and his embrace just fills you up so much you don’t know what to do with it. 

“i love this part too. i promised you that and i do. i always will okay?” his hands hold the sides of your head, over your hair - and he pulls away to look you in the eye when he says that. he knows you need to hear it, knows you need to look at him when he does. 

you fold and buckle, only able to nod to keep your voice from wobbling and cracking. you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. 

“i’ll never stop telling you i love you.” he presses his plushy lips to the top of your head, his hands smoothing over your back gently. “i’ll tell you more.” he promises. 

“i-i’m scared i’ll push you away, that i’ll scare yo-you off or that i’ll hurt you. i-i can’t-” you shake your head against him and frown, his t-shirt soaking up the wetness from your cheeks. “i can’t hurt you, chan. i can’t do that to you.”

“you don’t hurt me, baby. you never have, i promise. just wanna be here for you.” he mumbles against your hair, his hand cradling the side of your head. his lips leave tingly kisses along your hairline, and his promises to you fill you with love that you’re unsure what to do with. 

you nod against him, and he smooths his hands over your head again, “okay? i love you.” he pulls away, his eyes soft and brows melted together as his sights washed over your tear stained cheeks and face. “love you too.” you mumble, his thumbs swiping your under eyes and drying your cheeks. 

8:12 am. lee know. 

soft cuts of sunlight filtered in through the lines of the blinds and you’re immediately met with the warmth of the bed beneath you. the shirt you were wearing wasn’t yours, and your hair still seemed done from the night before - with a wandering and curious gaze, your eyes filter over to the sight next to you, and your lips part in surprise. 

minho, laying like an angel, as always. sleepy, soft skin blanketed by a thick comforter - lean muscle beneath. his hair was sprawled and he was still wearing makeup but if he wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world you didn’t know what was. 

only problem of course, he was your friend. a long time friend. and you’d been into him for far too long to let this slide. 

quickly, your legs slither out from the comforters, your toes finding the wood floors with ease as you move quietly to slink out of his bed, your gaze fixated on his sleeping face the entirety of your attempted escape. you pull on your skirt from the night before, grab your shoes in one hand before they slip from your grip and clatter to the floor quite ceremoniously. 

your face winces up, shoulders and spine tight as he stirs, his eyes fluttering open. 

he leans up on his elbows, eyes squinted as they adjust to the mild morning light coming from behind his blinds. 

“what’re you doing?” he asks tiredly, slumping back into the mattress as you gather your shoes in your hand once more. 

you push your hair from your face, huffing to gather your breath as you look at him. “i have to leave, minho.” you explain, feeling the tightness in your chest gather at the thought. 

“you don’t, come back to bed-” he groans, stretching, his hand gently offered to you as he laid back down, eyes sleepy and voice croaky. 

all of your hurt, after all of these years comes back to the forefront of your brain. the nights you spent crying, realizing he’d never want you, the years spent in pain in realization you’d never have him. and you can’t stop yourself from blurting what you truly felt, tired and defeated. 

“you don’t want me.” you shrug like it’s easy, like there was no other way, only acceptance of what you’d manage to convince yourself of. your chest aches at the sound of your own statement, but you grip your shoes a little closer and swallow the dryness in your throat. 

he leans up, slow. the crinkle of the comforter as he does so only fills you further with nervous anticipation. his eyes are still tired, angeled and low and he seems so pleased with what he says. 

“i do want you.” his brows lift for a moment. not for a second does his eye contact waver - and you knew, a small but very true part of you knew he wasn’t lying but you couldn’t accept it. no it wouldn’t be that easy, and maybe it meant something different to him. 

“no you don’t.” it’s gentle, defeated, barely rolled off your mouth when you say it and he feels your hurt - feels a bit of his own too though he wouldn’t like to admit it. 

“i do.” he presses. his expression changes, one of understanding that melts at the ache in your chest. he softens, his hand now more of an extended invitation. almost like he was silently pleading with you to just take it - take it and trust him. 

your fingertips tingle with the twinge of need that extends in your touch; they act before you can control them. the back of your hand raises, the supple skin of your palm meets his, and he wraps his hand around yours the moment you touch. 

it feels so right - god it feels right. it nearly takes the breath away from you - even this was enough. just this. 

he pulls you closer to him, his arm lifting to circle around your waist like it was the first time he’d ever done so; his touch and hold almost chivalrous. never for a second does he let his eyes leave your own, your face. his skin awakens prickles in your skin, your lungs take in breaths shakily - like every bit of you trembles at his touch. 

he takes your hand, swallows it in his grip because he wants to ground you - just think of me. it’s like he says. i’m here. a promise. what he can’t muster to say in words - he tries desperately hard to say in the way he floods your senses. it’s bracing, whole. 

“have for a while.” he admits softly, as your knee comes to press into the softness of his bed, getting closer by the second. 

“why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, sitting with your legs folded over his own cloaked by the comforter. 

he shakes his head gently, brows raised again, for a moment. “don’t know.” he musters, smiling for a second at the realization of his own sheer disbelief. why hadn’t he? fear? doubt?

“i should’ve said something too. ‘s okay.” you squeeze his hand before softly pulling it from his grasp, knowing he wasn’t the biggest fan of skinship. but to your surprise, he reaches back out for you.

he pulls your hand to his cheek, leaning into the touch with soft low gaze. his skin is warm, his guidance of your hand to his face is gentle, and you feel your heart lighten at the action, a small understanding smile on your lips. your shoes are disregarded, hair messy, but all you see is him. and all he wants is you. 

3:43 pm. changbin.

“your friend,” your mom begins. “the one with the…” her voice drifts off, her hands gesturing in long strokes of her fingers from the top of her head to her mid-waist, repeating this action until you understood. the long hair, she was meaning. 

“yeah,” you follow with their name. 

“their parents were at the recital - did you know she’s going off to a performing arts high school?” and you swallow because of course you knew this, the whole school did. and now your hands were wringing together because you were nervous, anxious. and you just didn’t want to hear her actually say it or it’d confirm everything.

“why don’t you do something like that? 

it was a frightening feeling and not at all fleeting. no. this sat with you, cooked inside your brain and marinated in a venomous concoction of long-lasting insecurity and self-doubt. 

being loved by and loving changbin was a catalyst and returning friend of a face you said goodbye to some time ago. comparatively, you and changbin were very different people. a world-renown producer and artistic creator to one of the most popular kpop groups to ever rise in the industry, and you. 

little you. 

with nimble fingers half-good at crochet, a homemade recipe for lemon ginger tea, and a smile you convinced yourself most days was nice, you didn’t compare. it wasn’t sad, it took no convincing on your end, it just was. 

suddenly consciousness regains in the forefront of your mind - and it slips from your lips before you can stop it. 

“you don’t want me.” it’s said into the phone pressed against your cheek, you’re driving, and you’re nearly home. the rain is still falling from the morning - shining and wetting the roads up for traffic lights to reflect their bright colors on the throats of puddles. 

on the other end of the line, changbin’s voice dies in his throat - too thoroughly stunned in the moment to even try speaking. his lips part, his brain thinks over the words you’ve just said to him, and he can’t puzzle himself as to why you’d ever say that. 

“w-why do you want me-” a sharp intake of breath past your lips, a shudder, the slam of your car into park as the doors unlock and his very first instinct before anything else is to be there. 

he says your name, speaks it with ease - familiarized himself with the way it feels in his mouth, and he stutters before speaking again. 

“of course i want you- are-are you okay? talk to me, baby what’s going on?” he stiffens up in his chair and chan leaves the room to grab a call from an executive. right now the music doesn’t matter, the hours of work spent trying to delicately assemble a new track doesn’t matter, the only thing he can think about is you. why you’re saying this. 

“i-it’s been-” you sniff, wiping your face at the pathetic notion of your own tears. “it’s been on my mind lately and i can’t stop thinking about it, bin.” your hand shakes with the grip on your phone, voice failing as you succumb to the tears. your shoulders shake, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise - as if you could hide it from changbin.

“baby, i’m here, i’m here, it’s okay. let me wrap this up with chan real quick and i’ll be over okay? you at your place?” he asks, voice soft and turned away from the mixing booth as chan walks back into the studio.

you nod, humming and confirming.

“i’ll be on my way in a minute, okay? i’ll text you when i’m headed over, baby.”

he leaves a minute later, driving like hell to get to you quick enough - and when he sprints up the stairs to your apartment he walks in to find the lights low and your form sitting on the couch - head resting in your hand.

“i’m here, baby. what’s wrong.” he doesn’t miss a beat - immediately he kneels at the couch, his hands coming to stroke your upper arms, coaxing you soothingly to open up to him. you shake your head, lips wobbling. 

“god- it’s pathetic really, bin-” you almost chuckle in hindsight. “just…” you look down, feeling the warmth of his hands as he circles you.

there’s a brief intermittent pause. a realization. it washes over you and steals the words from your mouth and the thoughts along with them. his hands pause between your bodies as if he’s afraid - afraid to touch you - afraid to upset you. more big wet tears cascade down your cheeks, face flushed with heat and red, and you wish more now than ever that he’d just hold you. 

“i-i don’t,,, i can’t-” you sniff. “compare to you.” it angers you to even speak it, knowing it’d hurt him. why.

“y-you don’t,,” you shake your head, your eyes filtering up to meet his own that look at you with such disbelief it’s almost sobering.

you were telling him this. like it was a fact, like it was your decision to make. he thinks maybe that’s why it hurt so much to hear you say it. like there was no alternative in your mind, nothing you could tell yourself to soothe this particular ache. like your mind was made up. 

“baby, baby-” he stands to sit next to you on the couch, gently grabbing your legs to toss over his own, his hands coming to stroke the wetness from your cheeks. every touch of his skin on your own is terribly grounding and sobering, and for a moment your tears slow a bit as he cradles your face in his calloused hands. 

“all i want is you. all i want. okay? i want all of you, on your best and worst days.” his arms circle you, hand resting at the back of your head to urge him into your shoulder. there’s where your tears fall now, arms grasping onto him and his shoulders. “there’s nothing you or anyone else could say to change my mind either. you’re perfect and i love you.” 

you nod against him, breathing in shaky. “i love you. i love you so much.” you know he’ll say it as many times as he must before you accept it. 

“love you too. love you.” you’ve become something like putty in his arms as he holds you. his hands soothe over your back, and you hear it; hear him. and believe him. 

1:03 am. hyunjin. 

your fingertips shake, fluttering over the textured fabric of the dress sitting daintily from your figure. a breath released, a breath inhaled, and in the next moment - it all comes crumbling; the image of yourself you brave for yourself. the falsities, the fabrications. in the reflection of the mirror you watch peripherally your face drop, turning to the side to run your hands over the curve of your body, trying to make it fit, trying to fit this idea into a box. 

your hands drop slack, hitting the sides of your legs. your composure weakens and you feel a buckle in your ability to withstand it. 

“fuck,,” you whisper, turnin away from the mirror with your hands on your face - fighting with might only a god could match to keep from crying. 

too many tears were shed because of this very same reality, you didn’t want to give it the satisfaction of succumbing to it. 

but your knees buckle - submitting to it, and you’re right back at square zero. 

hyunjin was going to be home any moment now, this fact had drifted away from your thoughts as hot tears welled up in your eyes, only when you hear the door unlock do you tighten up like board was tied to your back. you stand, walking to the closet to change quickly. just as your fingers unzipped the back, tears rolling over your cheeks and jaw, hyunjin announces he’s walked into the bedroom with a soft, “i’m back, baby.” 

his voice was soft, and he was completely oblivious and safe from the torrent of thoughts within your skull. he slinks in, your hands pause from unzipping your dress. “ah,” you sniff. “hey honey.” 

his head turns in your direction at the sound of that. 

he doesn’t have sights on you, you’re hidden behind the closet doors, but he makes his way over quietly, making a questioning type of humming noise, as if gently asking, “what?” 

you keep your lips sealed, unable to conjure an excuse quick enough - he’s suspected you already and you know if he finds you like this, it’ll be a torrential downpour you won’t be able to stop - hyunjin had that effect. 

“,,,babe? what’s-“ “d-don’t-“ your hand stops him from opening the closet door, you didn’t mean for the action to come across as aggressive it was - but you couldn’t let him see, and your heartbreaks at the idea. 

“what’s wrong, angel? i won’t judge you, i promise.” he relaxes his hands on the closet doors, his eyes darting over it’s surface. there’s a bit of anxiety boiling up now for hyunjin, he hadn’t a clue what was going on but he expected the worst by far. all he wanted was to be there for you - know why you were upset and help. 

“the dress i-… it doesn’t look good.” you sniff again, on the very edge once more as tears build more, faster. 

“i’m sure you look beautiful, baby. it’s okay. can i come in?” he doesn’t press the door, but instead waits for your consent. 

“s-some of the beading came off while i was putting it on and the seams look stretched-“ you take a breath shakily from your nose, “hyunjin-“ you say his name with reason, like saying it would be enough to soothe you. hyunjin feels his heart ache deep within his chest, his bottom lip pushed out slightly as he hears your hurt. 

“you won’t… you won’t want me.” 

it absolutely tears him up inside the way you say that. 

he pushes the door with no fighting from you, eyes first and only meeting your eye contact. “all i want is you, okay? i want you.” he promises, hands a bit shaky as he smooths over your hair and holds your face, his movements a bit sporadic as he tries everything he can to get you to focus on him, on what he was saying. 

“i love you.” he exhales. “i love you.” his hands shake your face the slightest amount to just try to get you to believe him. 

“and you look so beautiful, baby.” he mumbles into your hairline, pulling you into his arms, his own eyes closed tight. his hands flatten against your back, running his palms smooth over your exposed skin. “you are so beautiful.” 

in his arms, your crying slows. and the only reason he lets you go is to make a point. 

“come. follow me.” he grasps your hand, letting you follow behind him with as he stands in your mirror. 

“look at you.” he smiles softly, holding your hands in his own. “so pretty,” he whispers as if in thought, looking over your form as if it was a book to study. 

you wipe your face, feeling hyunjin begin to walk behind you, his hand kept only our waist as he now towers behind you - warm hand resting on your hip. “i knew when i bought this you’d look beautiful but,, it’s more than that.” his voice is soft, only shared between the both of you. 

you shake your head gently, feeling his hands steady on your zipper, stabilizing your side as he begins zipping you up - his eyes thoroughly focused on your form in the mirror as he does so. he says it like he doesn’t doubt it even for a moment. there’s not a moment he doesn’t think you’re outstanding, and not a moment he wishes to quiet his claim of your beauty. 

“look at me,” he asks, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes in the mirror. you let his soft touch gently guide you - his thumb swiftly drying a stray tear. his hand settles on the other side of your waist, holding you in his hands. his look is all too knowing, chin dropped, fully expectant on you understanding what he was thinking - and all you can do for a moment is chuckle, wiping your cheeks. 

“you look so pretty, baby - this was made for you.” he promises, admiring the texture of the dress under his hands as he gently strokes your sides and smiles.

[kitasgloves]

Follow You

tracklist

— ♬ "I'll be your gravity, you'll be my oxygen"

— ♬ Chuuya Nakahara x Reader, SFW, gender-neutral reader, depictions of stalking, violence, and obsessive behavior, abandonment issues, Chuuya being deranged when he's in love, 3.5k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE NOR ROMANTISIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

There's this hollow feeling that swallows one's whole consciousness like a black hole. It's greedy as it feeds on your light and energy. It leaves you empty, like a void. And to feel that void grow within you as it devours all the remnants of your being, it's a painful tragedy. Nakahara Chuuya felt that void in him widen from time to time. That void was born when he lost those who were close to his heart. By then, he learned how to surround his heart with walls. But there's always something unexpected that would tear those walls down and pierce through his heart.

Chuuya struggled with finding his humanity. As much as his mind reminds him that he is human, his soul isn't convinced. As he grew older and learned how unjust the world is, that void slowly ate away the remainder of his 'humanity'. Chuuya still believed there was an uncontrollable monster in him, a monster that claws at the remnants of his control until it takes over him completely. No matter how many good deeds he performed, it would not erase the feeling. And Chuuya has already accepted long ago that he wasn't a good person, and he's not going to waste his life trying to be one.

What does make one human? Was it your anatomy? Emotions? Consciousness? Or Purpose? The answer seemed to be one of the secrets of the universe. Chuuya doesn't ponder about what the answer will be. He's content where he is now, after all, he's been through a lot. Being an executive in the Port Mafia pays a lot and he can afford the luxury he wants. He has bursts of anger out of nowhere but he's getting the hang of controlling it. He has matured greatly but he knows he has so much to learn.

It was a domino effect when you stepped into Chuuya's life. One look, one smile, and everything came crumbling down. He regretted saving your life at first. You just happened to be an unsuspecting victim caught in a conflict between the Port Mafia and another group. You were caught in the gunfire at a restaurant, and you could've lost your life if it weren't for the gravity manipulator. He shielded you from the bullets and from witnessing the rest of the violence. Chuuya won effortlessly against his enemies while leaving a trail of destruction. But instead of focusing on the bloody disaster the man has left, your eyes glimmered at him.

"Thank you!"

You reached to clasp his hands and smile gratefully at him. Chuuya snarled at you as he snatched his hands back. He scoffed at the idea of you thinking he saved you out of the goodness of his heart. He only did that because you were getting in his way! But somehow, he couldn't look away from your glimmering gaze on him. You were abundant of life and he's sure that you weren't exposed to violence on a daily, unlike him. A tiny part of him wanted to keep it that way, you were just an innocent civilian. He may not be a good man, but he's not a cruel person to inflict his brutality on you.

It began with curiosity. Chuuya looked into your background. You worked at that restaurant, a minimum wage job. You lived alone in a humble apartment. From the looks of it, you were comfortable. Anyone who hasn't suffered so much like him would be content with your lifestyle. You seemed comfortable with your life, something Chuuya was a bit envious of. He can scowl and scoff all he wants but there's nothing he can do about it.

The gravity manipulator squinted his eyes and observed more about you. From what he gathered; you looked average. There was nothing out of place. He found out about the places you frequent, where you went to college and even the hometown you grew up in. He felt invested in finding out about your interests. Dare he says, he's impressed with your taste. It may not show in your appearance, but you had an elegant taste. Whether in music, food, or clothing, Chuuya found himself approving of it. 

He may have intentionally followed you when he wasn't busy and noticed you were shopping for wine. Chuuya can't help but gasp silently at how exquisite your choice of wine was. You were looking at underrated but delectable brands of wine, seemingly conflicted on which to buy. The Mafioso watched you look at one of the price tags and staggered back at how much it cost. He can understand that that brand of wine was way above your budget, but he can feel his chest tighten at your deflated figure walking away without purchasing the bottle of wine.

You noticed a small package delicately wrapped in red ribbon on your front door. You raised a brow and reluctantly brought the package inside. Suspicion filled you since you weren't expecting to receive any packages today. But as you unwrapped the ribbon and saw what was inside, your jaw drops. It was that expensive-ass wine you were eyeing earlier! You couldn't believe your eyes as you inspected the bottle. There was a tiny note attached to it.

Enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart - C

You admit that the message left you both flushed but more suspicious. You took out one of your wine glasses and did a taste test. Your tastebuds screamed with delight at how delectable the wine was. Whoever that 'C' person was, they're most likely rich. They could have some sort of motive to send you this wine. Nonetheless, you enjoyed your evening with that heavenly bottle.

Chuuya had no idea what had gotten into him when he began anonymously sending you expensive gifts at your doorstep. That expensive wine was a random act of kindness that happens once in a blue moon. The limited-edition vinyl of your favorite artist was out of boredom. That expensive watch was only to see you smile as you wore it at work. That silk robe, that perfume, and that diamond ring were only an impulsive decision. Chuuya was hastily spending his money on you, and you kept accepting them not knowing who it was from. That was a stupid move from you, but you're lucky it was from him and not from somebody else.

You're beginning to fall for the 'C' person behind all the luxurious gifts that they send every week. You felt properly spoiled as you kept accepting more and more. You can't help it, it's not like you could afford all of those with your paycheck. One evening, you waited again for another gift from your mysterious admirer (if you can call them that). But what you weren't expecting was the guy who saved you from the gunfire weeks ago, waiting for you at your front door, with a bouquet of red roses. 

Chuuya gulped as he sweats in his expensive tailored suit, he takes in your bewildered gaze on him. He blushed as red as the bouquet before thrusting it towards you.

"...Were you the one sending me those gifts?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh"

You blinked and stared down at the roses. You looked up at Chuuya and gave him a sweet smile before walking over to him.

"That's so sweet of you, but why?"

"I—I was only curious and...and you had good taste"

"Okay. So, what's your name?"

"Nakahara Chuuya"

"I'm [Surname] [Name], do you want to go inside?"

You asked and Chuuya nodded, almost in a trance. He can't help but feel weak at the knees at how you smile at him. The moment you shut your door the Mafioso couldn't contain himself as he pounced at you, capturing your lips into an intense kiss. That evening ended with his and your clothes scattered all over your bedroom floor.

A relationship bloomed afterward. Chuuya took you out on proper dates and continued to spoil you endlessly. What he thought was only curiosity or boredom became a passion for him. Truthfully, loving Chuuya was difficult from the start. He has a temper and often keeps his guard up, and it took time and effort for you to help him be vulnerable with you. It tugged on your heartstrings to find out that under that tough exterior was someone who was starving for affection.

When Chuuya loved, he loved deeply. When he couldn't express his tenderness to the people who meant a lot to him back then, he did with you. With every waking hour, he'll make sure that you feel loved and that you are aware of it. He'd trace every curve of your body and mark your skin with love bites. He'll give you gifts and smother you with his kisses. Chuuya made it his top priority to make you feel safe and secure. He even convinced you to move into his large house so he could keep an eye on you.

It had something to do with his past, but he couldn't stand the thought of you leaving him. So, the gravity manipulator would follow you around on a daily. To your work, to go out with friends, or even at the grocery store. Chuuya was constantly on your tail without your knowledge. He'd disguise himself in various outfits and behave like a normal civilian to not draw suspicion. He'd smile to himself knowing that you're safe from danger because of him.

However, when you got involved in conflicts, Chuuya would take it upon himself to resolve them. That drunk man who kept flirting with you at the bar? He was found with broken bones in an alleyway. That woman who was rude to you at work? She was arrested for a crime she claimed she didn't commit. And that fucking creep that followed you home one night? He was beaten to death with his face disfigured. The Mafioso made sure everything was taken care of and you're none the wiser.

It became clear to him that you have come to his life to fill that void in him. When you wrap your arms around him and whisper sweet nothings against his ear, it brings his body back to life. It revives that hope in him that he thought he had lost. You have made him feel truly human.

Back then, his head was haunting him, and his heart feels like a ghost. He needs to feel something 'cause he's still so far from home. Chuuya hopes that you'll cross your heart and hope to die, promise him you'll never leave his side. Show him what he can't see when the spark in your eyes is gone. You've got him on your knees, he's your one-man cult. Cross his heart and hope to die, he promises you that he'll never leave your side.

'Cause he's telling you, you're all he needs. He promises you, you're all he sees. He's telling you you're all he needs. He'll never leave. So, you can drag him through hell, if it meant he can hold your hand. He will follow you, 'cause he's under your spell. And you can throw him to the flames. Chuuya will follow you, he will follow you.

Lately, you have been getting this feeling like you were being constantly followed everywhere. You were beginning to feel restless about it. When you expressed this to your boyfriend, he would coo at you and pull you into an embrace as he littered kisses all over your face. It would temporarily soothe you until you get separated from him. You'd carefully travel to work and feel the discomfort grow during your shift at the restaurant. You would try to call Chuuya during your break and he'll reassure you with a few words. You had no idea what Chuuya's occupation was, but you had an assumption that he was constantly busy and paid handsomely.

This discomfort developed into paranoia. You couldn't even tell anybody anymore because you're convinced that you would sound crazy. You had no evidence to link the cause of your paranoia. Your senses are heightened as you begin to notice things that you haven't before. All the people you had bad interactions with either ended up severely injured, arrested, or dead in the news. It sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. It seemed like you were the cause of their misfortune.

Chuuya was aware of your growing suspicion as he continued to follow you around. That ugly monster in him kept telling him that you'll abandon him sooner and it disturbs him so much that he starts to follow you even more. There wasn't a moment you weren't alone. He needed to prove that stupid monster wrong and that you wouldn't leave him. There was no way, and he wouldn't allow it. He has you now, and he won't let you leave him like everybody else did. If you did, you'd bring the end of him and the world.

On the way home, you kept a cautious eye out. You looked closely at each person you passed by. You felt like you were growing insane with each minute as you entered a discreet alleyway. All of a sudden, somebody sharply tugged on your bag making you twist your body, and your forehead was met with a gun. You freeze, feeling your body run immediately cold.

"Let go of the bag and I won't shoot, yeah?"

The gruff voice of a man said. Your lip wobbled as you shakily released the bag. But before the man could run off, he was attacked with a kick to the face. You stumbled back with a gasp as you watched in horror when the man was being brutally beaten by a smaller man dressed in a leather jacket with a hood over his head. You were unable to make out the shorter man's features as he punched the man's face to the point of almost disfiguring him. You have never witnessed such a brutal attack before. The man who snatched your bag had the upper hand with the gun but was bested by the other who had no other weapon in him but his fists.

You quivered in the corner with wet eyes as the shorter man finished beating up the bag-snatcher. His fists were bloodied, and you could tell that he was used to violence. Fear floods your heart when he starts to approach you with your bag in his bloody hands. The alleyway was dark, and it didn't provide the proper light for you to see the man's face. You had sunk into your knees, prepared to beg if the man was planning to beat you up too. However, you were taken aback when the man gently took your hand and returned your bag. Stray tears fall down from your lash line as the man immediately reaches his bloody hand to wipe them away, smudging some of the blood on your face by accident.

You recognized his touch, and it made your heartbeat stop. You blinked up at the man and reached out for his face. As you pulled his face closer, it revealed none other than your boyfriend, Chuuya.

"Chuuya?"

"You weren't meant to see that, darling"

He says lowly to you. When you draw your hands back, he swiftly grabs your wrists and pulls you close to him. His hands began to caress your hair and cheek.

"I'm glad you're safe"

"But you...you just beat up that man—"

"He fucking deserved it"

Your boyfriend growled making your lips shut. Realizing that he had startled you, Chuuya sighs and pulls you into an embrace, but it does not bring you any comfort.

"Why...? You didn't have to do that, Chuuya"

"I was trying to keep you safe, [Name]"

"You nearly beat him to death!"

"That's what he gets for messing with you!"

You pulled away from him. You could faintly see the look on his face, and it didn't look like the man who saved you from the gunfight long ago. You took a step back, clutching your bag against your body, and preparing to run. Chuuya's jaw was tight as he stalked closer to you, almost like a wolf.

"Chuuya, stop"

"Please, doll. I need you, come here"

He couldn't comprehend the petrified look in your face. You shook your head as you slowly processed what was happening.

"...Were you the one following me around?"

"I needed to, babe. I need to keep you safe"

"Following me everywhere does not make me feel safe, Chuuya"

"It's for the best! I need you, [Name]. And you need me. I can't..."

He trails off as he corners you against a brick wall. Your breath hitches as he places his hands on each of your sides, trapping you. Chuuya gives you a desperate look.

"I can't exist without you. Please, [Name]. I'll...I'll give you anything you want. I'll be anything you need"

Chuuya pleads with his face inches away from yours. You felt deeply disturbed by his behavior as you craned your neck and turned your face away. Chuuya just wants you to come sink into him and let him breathe you in.

"I'll be your gravity, you'll be my oxygen"

Yes, that's it. He'll be your gravity, keeping grounded here on earth and keeping you safe, keeping you from floating away from him. And you'll be his oxygen, the only thing that he needs to stay alive. But Chuuya can feel it, he's losing you. And it's tearing his heart apart so violently that a raw ache filled his senses. You no longer looked at him with those glimmering eyes. You looked at him as if you saw the monster he desperately kept away from you. He can feel it, the ugly monster in him laughing victoriously, laughing at how he lost another. But Chuuya kept grasping on, hoping you'd see through the darkness and see his good intentions. 

However, the longer the Mafioso gazed at your face, he realized that you had made your decision. Chuuya reluctantly pulls himself away. He could see it, the end of him and the end of the world. The moment you looked at him frightfully and walked out of that alleyway, leaving him alone in the darkness, the void in him grew larger. But he knows his heart is still beating, and longing for you, and you only. He'll never learn to yearn for anybody else. So, dig two graves 'cause when you die, he'll swear that he'll be leaving by your side.

Since that night, you ran to Chuuya's house collected every single one of your belongings, and left without wasting a minute. You've decided to move somewhere else, preferably away from Yokohama. You've quit your job and found a new apartment to live in. It was in another city, and it took a while for you to find a new job. All that mattered was that you were out of Chuuya's reach. You felt at ease at the thought he would never find you at your new home and that you would truly be safe now.

However, Chuuya thinks that things never ended. He never ceased to give up. You've never told him to his face that you and he are over, and he took it as another chance. It's not the end, he thinks. It wasn't a hassle to find you, considering the number of resources and connections he had, he found your new home in no time. Chuuya found out about your new job and your newly discreet lifestyle. He finds it adorable that you're trying to hide from him. It will never be over. Chuuya will follow to the ends of the earth. He will still remain to ensure that you're alive.

So, you can drag him through hell, if it meant he can hold your hand. He will follow you, 'cause he's under your spell. And you can throw him to the flames. Chuuya will follow you, he will follow you.

Adjusting to your new environment and lifestyle wasn't easy, so you were naturally stressed. Juggling with the adjustment and hiding from Chuuya drained your energy. So, when you caught a glimpse of ginger hair on the way to work, you almost doubled over. But you sighed in relief when you realized it was just a harmless stranger. You're convinced that you're just stressed when you thought you saw Chuuya amongst the customers you were serving in your new job, you checked again and were reassured that he wasn't hiding amongst those faces. You really think you could use a break because you bumped into a guy on the way home and he had the same azure eyes as Chuuya, you wanted to apologize to the stranger, but he has vanished.

Little by little, the gravity manipulator slowly inserted himself into your life again. He blended into the crowd as he followed you to work. He pretended to be somebody else as you served him at your job. And he would deliberately make contact with you in inconspicuous ways to satisfy his yearning for you. To Chuuya, he's willing to suffer just to have you again.

You can drag him through hell, if it meant he can hold your hand. He will follow you, 'cause he's under your spell. And you can throw him to the flames. Chuuya will follow you, he will follow you. 

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[polo-drone-001]

Conversion

Part 2: The Enlightenment

Ezan’s world had narrowed to a soft, blank haze, each thought dissolving under the weight of @polo-drone-105’s words. He could no longer tell where his own mind ended and 105’s began, the voice seeping into him, blurring his thoughts, binding him to its rhythm.

Interim co-captain @brodygold and @polo-drone-009 watched from the distance, their faces unreadable as they sensed the shift, saw the slow collapse of Ezan’s defiance.

“Gold isn’t for you to wear,” 105 murmured, his voice as smooth as silk, yet as hard as iron. “You’re nothing but a shell clinging to an illusion. The true followers shed everything, let go of individuality, erase their flawed selves to reveal the purity beneath.”

Ezan’s last flickers of pride struggled, his mind grasping for fragments of his past, but the fight was weak, a mere whisper against the flood of 105’s words. “I… I am Gold,” he whispered, his voice faint and uncertain. But even as he spoke, he felt the lie crumbling, his words empty, hollow. The shirt wrapped around him, binding him, transforming him, until his reflection was nothing but a shadow—a shadow with vacant eyes, eyes that reflected nothing but surrender.

@polo-drone-063 and @polo-drone-070 stood closer now, watching with a detached satisfaction. “See, Ezan,” 063’s voice echoed. “This is who you truly are. All that resistance, that pride—it was just a burden. This is your real strength.”

A tear slipped down Ezan’s face as 105’s final words struck the last remnants of his pride, hollowing him completely. “The man who calls himself Ezan cannot serve,” 105 whispered. “Only a drone can know true purity. Let Ezan die.”

In that moment, Ezan felt a profound emptiness, the essence of himself slipping away, dissipating into the shadows. His heart raced, but his mind dulled, his last thoughts scattering into silence.

Then, as he teetered on the edge, 009 stepped forward, his voice steady, grounding. “You’re not erased, Ezan. A part of you will remain, subsumed but there, within the collective. Your strength doesn’t disappear—it transforms.”

Brody’s hand rested on Ezan’s shoulder, grounding him, his tone reassuring. “Yes, Ezan. You’re not erased. You’re just subsumed. What you were still has a place.”

Ezan’s blank eyes softened, a flicker of faint recognition amid the blank obedience, a final thread grounding him. He felt himself nod, felt the warmth of acceptance soothe his hollowed mind, the last part of himself giving way to the collective.

“001… will serve,” he murmured, his voice hollow yet serene, a mind at peace with its surrender. He was no longer just Ezan, no longer merely a man. He was an obedient slate, an extension of the collective’s will, lost in the serene emptiness of true obedience.

In that moment, 001 was born—a perfect, devoted vessel of the collective. For the first time, he felt unity, felt the bliss of release, felt the purity of Gold he had once resisted but now embraced fully, body and soul.

Join the Golden Army. Experience transformation like never before—total unity, absolute purpose. Embrace the power, the discipline, and the collective. Your place awaits among us. DM to take the first step, or apply through our interim Co-Captain @brodygold or @polo-drone-009. Feel the bliss.

Part 1

[hd-junglebook]

Its Always Been You

Part 4 / Word Count 5816

Masterlist

Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.

"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  

"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."

Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.

Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."

"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.

Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.

It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.

He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.

The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.

Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.

"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.

Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.

Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.

…

The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.

The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.

She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.

y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.

Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.

Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.

As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.

Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.

She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.

Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.

In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.

Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.

She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.

Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.

Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.

Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.

"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.

The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.

Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.

Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.

"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.

Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.

Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.

But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.

As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.

But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.

So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.

"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.

Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.

"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.

…

The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.

Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.

they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."

Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."

But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."

She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."

For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.

"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."

With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.

She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.

Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.

On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.

Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.

His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.

Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.

Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.

Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

…

Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.

The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.

There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.

Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.

"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."

He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.

Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."

Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."

Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.

Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.

But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.

Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.

"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?

Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.

For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."

Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.

As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.

…

Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.

Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.

In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.

With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."

Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"

Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."

Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."

…

Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.

Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.

"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."

Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.

"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."

Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."

Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.

"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."

Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."

Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."

Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.

Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”

Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis

[bysaber]

Breaking up ft. Satoru Gojo

Day 13 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.

word count — 1.2k

content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended

notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3

everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.

you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.

you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.

you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.” and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.

you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.

gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.

become cold, even.

he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”

you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.

it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.

and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.

you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.

you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.

multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.

what mined your relationship was that lie.

because he never even tried.

and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.

you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”

and you lost everything you thought you had.

you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.

you need to move on.

after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.

this is when your doorbell rings.

you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.

you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.

it hurts.

“gojo.”

you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.

“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”

if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.

you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.

“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.

“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.

“i want you back.”

satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.

“gojo, you can’t–”

“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”

“gojo–”

again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”

you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.

all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.

it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.

you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.

satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.

“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”

“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”

“sleep together, right?”

he sounds so clingy, you chuckle lightly.

“yes, toru. together.”

[1-800-be-my-baby]

MDNI 18+

part 2 to this ask

i actually hate this so hopefully i did yall some justice 😭

you open your mouth and wrap your plump lips around his fingers. you let out a small moan when his fingers hit the back of your throat. hollowing your cheeks you begin to get lost in the feeling.

rafe quickly retracts his fingers from your mouth, lips connecting with yours before you can whine in protest. the heat that had been pooling in between your legs was returning in full force. grabbing you by the hips rafe pulls you on top of him, seating you on his hard cock. your eyes widen in shock. it’s long and thick, just the thought of it makes you sore.

“rafe-” you lose your train of thought as his lips move to your neck. pressing light kisses on the spot that makes you crumble.

“wait rafe. i don’t- i don’t think it’s gonna fit.” hearing your words he kisses his teeth.

“i’ll fucking make it fit.” before you know it you’re on your back, his fat tip pushing into your sopping cunt. not giving you time to adjust his hips begin to slam into yours. the stretch so painfully delicious you can’t help but let out a loud cry.

he quickly slaps his hand over your mouth. “shut the fuck up. do you want everyone to know how much of a slut you are? desperate for some fucking dick even in your sleep” you aggressively shake your head. “yeah that’s what i fucking thought. so just shut up and take it. i’m gonna remove my hand now, don’t make a sound.”

with the way his tip is hitting every spot inside of you, you can’t help but let out tiny little moans.

“look at you. trying so hard to be quiet for me. such a good girl.”

“jus’ feels so good daddy”

“just needed daddy to take care of you? that it?” you nod your head as tears begin to wet your cheeks. the band in your tummy tightening with every thrust.

“you gonna cum for me pretty girl? gonna make a mess on my cock like you did on my fingers?”

“yes. i’m so close.”

“let go for daddy. it’s okay i got you.” the band finally snaps causing you to gush around his cock.

“fuckk. i’m gonna fill this perfect pussy. you want that?”

“please.” you beg the best you can, being too fucked out to probably respond.

“you’re mine, understand? can’t be sharing this pussy with anyone else.” his thrusts become sloppy before he buries himself to the hilt. you feel his cock twitch before his hot seed fills you up. spilling onto the sheets.

he pulls out and gets up, walking to the bathroom. you can’t help but feel stupid for believing he wouldn’t just throw you aside after getting what he wanted. tears fall down your cheeks but for a different reason this time.

he comes back in the room, stopping in his tracks when he sees you crying. “baby what’s wrong? was i too rough with you?” you shake your head.

“don’t worry about it. it’s my fault. i should’ve known better than to believe you actually care about me.”

“hey, look at me.” you look up at him, lip wobbling, trying your best to not completely lose it. “i just went and got you a towel so i can clean you up. okay? i’m not going anywhere baby. i promise.”

he begins to wipe in between your legs, shushing you when you whimper from the overstimulation.

after he cleans you up he lays back in bed, pulling you against him.

“rafe?”

“hmm?”

“did you mean what you said earlier? about- about me being yours?”

“yeah, i did. you’re mine now, you’re crazy if you think any different.” you hum in acknowledgement, finally allowing yourself to fall into a deep sleep.

rafe looks down at you, watching the way your mouth is slightly parted and how your chest moves up and down with each breath. he smiles to himself before kissing the top of your head. happy that he was finally able to call you his girl.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 9: ~

When the Walls Crumbled:

This is it. The long awaited Murine/Muirinnes chapter.

Fun fact: This is my first ever romance piece I've done for any fan-fiction. So, I have no idea if this is good or not.

Another fact: I had already completed this chapter before chapters 7 and 8. This was going to be chapter 7, but I had to map out a timeline when I decided this was going to be a mini-arc, and not a time-jump to post-rescue. Plus, during that time, I decided not to have military involvement. What I have instead you'll soon see.

Tw: Parental abuse and gambling.

Part 10:

Innes couldn't sleep. He found himself staring at the container ceiling. Drool ran down the chin, which only momentarily snapped him out of his daydream. Then right back to it. He tried, but no amount of tossing or turning was helping. Even when he was leaned against Muir, he found no comfort. A quick check from his watch showed it was 2:15am.

'Maybe some fresh air will help?' He asked himself.

With a quick glance at Muir, seeing him sleeping peacefully, Innes carefully moved from his side and made it for the door. He'll go outside, sit at the railing, and have a smoke to himself. Or he would do that if a tendril didn't wrap around his waist. Of course, Muir was secretly awake the entire time. Sneaky little shit. Innes accepted defeat with a deflated sigh and turned to see Muir lift him up and place him in front of his face.

'I thought you were asleep.'

Muir ignored the empty statement.

'Innes, what's wrong?' Because he could sense something. His heartbeat wasn't normal, and he felt it sink at the question. Then there were his eyes. For hours, Innes has had a hurt look in them. Even when he cheered for Brodie and Finlay, and when gorged on the leftovers, the look was still there. Plus, even if they've been practically inseparable, Innes couldn't bring himself to look Muir in his. Even now, Innes was clearly looking through him. 'It's okay. You know it'll be okay.'

Words filled and drowned Innes' mind.

'Stupid boy. You deserve this. How can you look at yourself? Stop being a fucking idiot!'

The words Innes would hear from his father and he'd repeat them as self-punishment.

'Don't cry. You're not a man if you cry!'

He wanted to, but a part of him was always afraid to. He feared his father would find out, even over a hundred miles away and being 6 feet under. That man left a mark that was hard to scrub off. No luck. Even Innes had a breaking point. Tears began to fall, and Muir began to wipe them away.

'Why aren't you mad at me?' A lump formed in his throat, and his heart began to race. 'I left you alone. I just ran whilst you turned into,' he gestured to Muir's exposed ribs. 'This. I'm your supervisor. I'm supposed to look out for you. You said that yourself!' He paused to catch his breath, but to no avail. 'I'm so sorry, Muir.'

The guilt had been eating away at him. Since he heard Muir calling out for him in distress. Even if no one could blame him, Innes' heart felt heavy, and he wanted to be sick. In his mind, because of him, Muir will never be human again. His body blew open and turned inside out with ribs exposed and flesh crawling along the hard-hat, which was possibly the reason it didn't spread further. He lost his hair, his mouth was stretched on one side, and most of his lips had melted away, half-blind despite having multiple eyes, and his innards hung inches from the floor. It was all his fault. Muir's cry for help will be something he can never forgive or forget.

'Innes, where ya going?!'

'INNNNNEEEEEEEES!'

'Innes? Help me, Innes!'

'Innes? Where's Innes? I just need help, eh?'

How was Muir able to break down the walls he tried so hard to build? What was this man to him? Innes never cried, and yet in one day, he cried over him twice. Not even his ex-wife got him to cry when she left him for someone else. He didn't cry when his house got repossessed through his gambling. And he certainly didn't cry when he heard his dad had passed. A tendril kept wiping his tears away. Muir pulled him closer, and Innes hugged what he could of his face. He didn't want to let go.

The last 3 years raced through his mind. Innes remembered the day he was called up to Rennick's office. At first, he thought it was because he had rolled up his sleeves and pants because of the unbearable summer heat. He wasn't too happy to hear he'd be looking after a newcomer with no prior training, but he did get a bollocking for the uniform.

Muir stepped off the chopper without a single hair out of place or crease in his uniform. Like all new hires, he had brought too much baggage. A backpack and small suitcase. Innes knew more than half of that wasn't going to see the light of day for months. Always amusing to see. He lingered at the steps with crossed arms and a smirk. Rennick introduced himself with that fake yet convincing smile to the untrained eye. In all honesty, Innes thought Muir had brided his way to become a deckhand. How can someone just leave their family farm and instantly work on an oil rig? Still, he grinned and taught Muir everything he could, even if he kept his walls up.

He couldn't tell when they began to crumble, but whenever there was a crack, he would try to mend it. It was exhausting. A fight he had to surrender because as much as he denied it, feelings started to bloom. He hoped they would go overtime, but the opposite happened. Muir's looks, his smell, his laugh, and even his clumsy nature that has gotten the pair in more than enough trouble, just made Innes -

Oh. That's why. Because for the first time in years, Innes was genuinely happy.

'I love you.' He let out a shakey breath and sniffled as he pulled away. The muscles in his neck twitched as he smiled. The hurt look in his eyes was gone, and he could finally look at Muir. His heart continued to race and skip a beat. 'I wished I told you sooner.' He noticed Muir began to cry, but with a smile on the one side of his face. One of pure joy, as if all the problems in the world had washed away. Now, it was Innes' turn to wipe his tears. He'd noticed his right eye was completely open again, and his nose at some point had been put back into shape.

'I've been waiting three years for you to say that.' He stifled a laugh and lightly squeezed Innes' waist. 'I love you too, my big man.'

'I think that's you now.'

'Don't get smart with me.'

The pair shared a mix of laughter and cries. They pulled each other together for another long hug. Innes kissed Muir above his good eye, then at the bridge of his nose, where they placed their foreheads together. They dried each other's tears. Muir moved his head towards Innes to replicate a nuzzle on a part of his shoulder.

It might be the middle of winter, but they felt warm. It was inviting. It was new. It was something they didn't want to let go of, so they stayed like this. Frozen in time.

Roy opened the door. Neither had come for breakfast, so he thought it was best to check up on them. He found the pair huddled together. Tendrils wrapped around Innes like a blanket, except for his arms hugging them in return. Muir lightly snored, stretched, and gently pulled Innes closer.

He was no expert, but Roy could tell. He slowly closed the door and left the pair. What harm would another hour do?

[glamdringwlv]

Unchain my heart: Part 1.

Unchain my heart series. Logan Howlett x oc!fmale Summary: Mia Green has grown up in a lab, subjected to numerous experiments due to her status as a mutant. When she manages to escape, Charles Xavier takes her in at his mansion, giving her a new life and helping her regain her memories. However, the arrival of a new resident at the mansion threatens to destabilize everything she believed.

Warnings: Violence, foul language, a mix of various canons, X-Men movies, X-Men animated series, X-men comics.

Prologue, Part 2.

Part 1. When the man comes around.

“Focus, let’s go,” Charles’s voice resonated in her mind, like a calming echo.

Mia gritted her teeth. “It hadn’t occurred to me, Professor. Thanks for the advice,” she thought sarcastically. It was hard not to be consumed by frustration. Every time she failed, it felt like she was moving backward instead of forward. She took a deep breath and returned to her task.

The atmosphere in Xavier’s office was thick with tension. Mia sat across from the mahogany desk, her gaze fixed on the Professor. Her eyes burned with intensity, weary from battling against Charles’s interruptions. Every time she thought she’d won the battle, her concentration shattered.

Everything around her felt overwhelming—the students’ voices on the other side of the door, the hum of the machines, even her own breathing.

“How long is this going to take?” Jubilee interrupted from a corner of the room, her tone bored and slightly irritated. “It’s really dull watching them glare at each other in silence. Are we going to spend the whole afternoon watching them stare each other down?”

“You’re the one who wanted to be here, Jubilee. No one forced you,” Scott replied, crossing his arms and frowning.

“I thought this was going to be way more epic. Come on, two telepaths? I’m just hoping something happens. She hasn’t blinked in five minutes.”

Mia took another deep breath, trying to block out Jubilee and Scott’s noise. Their voices blended in her mind, making it harder to concentrate.

“Now that I think about it, what is she supposed to be learning?” Jubilee asked, looking at Scott. “Isn’t she supposed to be a teacher?”

Mia felt the mental barrier she’d built begin to falter. Scott’s storm of thoughts was on the verge of breaching her consciousness.

He shouldn’t say anything. It would betray Mia’s trust. Would she be angry if I told her why? She’s just a curious kid. Scott’s thoughts were a torrent Mia could barely contain.

With a sigh, Mia felt Charles seize the distraction to tear down what she’d worked so hard to build. Her mental barrier crumbled, and she let out a frustrated growl. Again.

“Damn it,” she muttered to herself, her breathing heavy and her fists clenched.

“Watch your language, Mia.”

She was on the brink of giving up, of telling Charles that she’d had enough, that she couldn’t take it anymore, and that teaching teenagers had completely worn her out, but she bit her tongue.

Mia made a decision. She gently touched the stream of Scott’s thoughts, a soft gesture, almost like a touch on the shoulder. Scott, recognizing the sensation, allowed her into his mind. It was something Mia always did: she asked for permission before intruding into someone’s mental space, a courtesy she considered essential.

Suddenly, everything was overwhelmed by her presence, her feelings, even her scent. Summers took a moment to compose himself, and though he was used to mental intrusions, he felt overwhelmed at first. He’d always been fascinated by how different her mutation was from Charles’s.

Tell her, it doesn’t matter. She just wants to understand.

“Mia arrived at the school at seventeen without knowing how. She had lost all her memories, didn’t even know her name,” Scott explained aloud, his words reflecting what Mia saw in his mind. “Charles has helped her recover some of what she lost, but there are still things locked away in her head. Even the Professor can’t access them. He’s teaching her to unlock them.”

“Wow, if she’s already omega level, imagine what she could do with all her memories. This chick is cool. Pretty scary,” Jubilee thought, her thoughts buzzing with a mix of admiration and fear.

“Jubilee, please. Don’t bombard me with your opinions. I’m trying to concentrate. It’s hard to block you out when you think so loudly,” Mia said, a hint of irritation in her tone.

“I’m not bombarding you with anything, Professor,” Jubilee replied, surprised.

“Of course you are. I’m not going to give you a harder test just because you know my past.”

Jubilee fell silent, trying to control her thoughts, but Mia could still sense the agitation in her mind, the fear and discomfort. It was a common reaction when others realized how deeply she could delve with her powers.

“I think that’s enough for today, Mia. You’ve held out longer this time and with distractions,” Charles said, his voice calm, but Mia detected a hint of pride in his words.

“No, I can do better,” Mia insisted, her voice filled with determination.

She gritted her teeth, closing her eyes tightly, her fists clenched until her nails dug into her palms. She felt the thud of her heart, the weight of her mistakes, and the desperate need to improve.

Charles tried to dissuade her, but Mia stood her ground, and Charles watched her in silence. This time, she decided to close her eyes, focusing on her mind. Mia knew her telepathic abilities were different from Charles’s—more raw, more instinctive. But today, she was determined to push beyond her limits. She visualized a glowing line connecting her consciousness to Charles’s, a line that shone brightly with energy. Resolute, she extended her awareness towards that line, trying to sense Charles’s mind beyond the barrier. She pushed with all her might, making her breathing rapid and a slight tremor run through her body.

Scott felt the urge to rush to her, to touch her shoulder to bring her back to reality and pull her away from the training, but Charles stopped him with a look, feeling the mutant’s progress.

The lights in the room flickered, and the onlookers were stunned. Mia had shown no signs that her mutation extended beyond telepathy, but when she concentrated too hard, the electrical devices around her reacted inexplicably for a brief moment.

With one final effort, she fell into Charles’s consciousness. A whirlwind of information and voices overwhelmed her. Everything was utter chaos, a maelstrom of data. She tried to focus on something, anything. She concentrated on the relationship they had forged and searched for herself amidst the storm of memories. And then she saw it. Fragments of her own past, distorted and confusing images. She saw a laboratory, bright lights, faces she couldn’t recognize. But what struck her most was the feeling that Charles knew more than he had revealed. There was hidden knowledge, a certainty in his mind that made Mia’s heart tighten.

And then, like a flash, a fleeting image appeared before her. A man with metal claws, fierce and wild. She didn’t recognize him, but the image was etched in her mind. She didn’t recognize him, but something about the image unsettled her. It was as if a part of her, something very deep and hidden, was reacting to that image. The feeling was strange, almost familiar, though she couldn’t understand why.

Before she could process what she’d seen, a sharp pain pulled her out of Charles’s mind. She opened her eyes abruptly, feeling a trickle of blood running from her nose. The effort had been too much, and her body was paying for it. But despite the pain, Mia couldn’t stop thinking about what she had seen.

Before she could delve deeper, a word echoed in her mind: “Weapon X.” It was like a flash, an echo lost in some forgotten corner of her memory. She didn’t know where that association came from, or why she knew that name, but the sensation left her stunned.

Scott’s hands were already on her shoulders, anchoring her to this world. His scent pulled her away from the sensations she had just discovered. She leaned more into Cyclops’s touch and let herself be comforted.

“She’s exhausted. She’s come too far,” his voice resonated in her head, and she cursed herself for not having gone further.

She was dazed, the voices around her seemed distant. It was strange that they were discussing her limits as if she weren’t there. She understood less and less of what was being said around her, a disjointed ebb and flow that made no sense.

Mission. Mutants in danger. Ororo. Magneto.

She felt herself slowly disconnecting from the conversation until she became unconscious. Her limp body alerted Scott, who tried to move her to see how she was doing.

Concern shaded his face as he saw her completely out of it. He shook her gently, but there was no response. This wasn’t the first time Mia had lost consciousness while training with the Professor, but it didn’t make him any less worried.

“Take her to the infirmary, she needs to rest,” Charles ordered Scott.

“What do you think she saw? The last time she ended up like this was when she remembered her parents.”

“I’m not sure,” Scott replied, but there was tension in his voice. He knew exactly what Mia had seen, but he didn’t know how it had affected her neural network. Mia’s past was a dark abyss that could consume her if revealed too soon.

Summers lifted Mia and carried her out of the office, suspecting that the Professor was hiding something from both of them.

...

Mia awoke in the infirmary feeling disoriented and confused. The room was bathed in a soft, warm light, and the air was tinged with a familiar medicinal scent. She slowly sat up, a persistent throb in her head pulsing with each beat of her heart.

She took a moment to adjust her vision. The room was quiet, with several beds and machines around. The sounds of the infirmary were soothing, but a constant buzzing in her ears hinted at something more going on.

A low murmur pierced through the pain that made her eyelids heavy. Her mind scanned the room and found it—a new thread of thought. As she focused on it, it seemed like a tangled skein of threads struggling to unravel. Even before she had delved into them, she could taste the pain on the tip of her tongue. She pushed that feeling aside and tried to steady herself.

Once she felt more stable, she stood up carefully, removing the IVs. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out this time, but her muscles felt stiff, indicating it had been quite a while. She stifled a groan of pain and struggled to get up.

As she approached the other bed, her breath caught in her throat. Damn. It was the guy with the metal claws she’d seen in the professor's mind. Something inside her twisted with recognition, but she couldn’t place the feeling.

Maybe it was connected to her past. She bit her lip, debating whether to invade the privacy of an unconscious man she didn’t know or to wait and resolve her doubts once he woke up.

Weapon X. What if he was dangerous? She needed to find out. Although the professor wouldn’t have let him into the mansion if he believed him to be a threat.

She closed her eyes, and the tangled threads of thoughts and pain reappeared before her. Tentatively, she extended her consciousness towards his, ready to dive in, but a hand, gripping too tightly, seized her wrist, making her gasp in surprise.

“Where the hell am I?”

The mutant moved quickly. Now she was trapped between the bed and his chest. Her eyes caught a glint near her neck, and the metal brushed against her throat, scratching the area lightly.

Fear surged through her, and the lights in the room began to flicker uncontrollably. Logan looked around in confusion, not understanding what was happening. Despite the blinding headache, Mia projected a simple command into the mutant’s mind: Let me go.

The contact vanished instantly, as if she’d been slapped. She fell to her knees, still weak from the strain of the training. Her mind hadn’t fully recovered, and even such a simple command had taken an extreme effort.

She heard the door slam shut and let the darkness envelop her once more.

[nectardaddy]

notebook paper | hinata shoyo

chapter seventeen | doomed [ ✎ ]

masterlist

no smau parts in this one, she's long.

cw/notes: HURT/COMFORT IM SORRY, metaphor using choking, once again that feeling when the stress hits you all at once (but more like feelings this time), feelings of inadequacy, repetition used on purpose, (heavy) drinking, I haven't added music to any other chapters, but take a listen to what's up I've listened to it for every chapter thus far and I think it fits the vibe of everything.

Happiness. Always fleeting, and always coming and going, the eb and flow reckless and disorderly. Thrashing her, yanking her down, and spitting her back out. A, rather silly, concept to her through years of grit, and a semester taking her by the throat and squeezing. Choking and heaving for just a singular breath of air, chest tight and lungs burning from a work load that weighed on her and a painted on smile.

It was her job to be happy - to be ok. To bring joy to other students, all the while she crumbled. She opted to spilling her guts when the door slammed shut to her room, only to wipe her eyes and continue on like nothing ever happened; to work as if she hadn't broke down completely - if she ignored it long enough it would go away.

So a part of her slipped, and fell hard, when she caught herself thinking about the man; ginger hair and brown eyes wedging their way into her life easily. Slender fingers taking a hammer to walls she had built up and swinging, allowing the crash to happen right in front of her eyes with baited breath, all the while he didn't realize it. Fuck, it felt good.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her, eyes widening every time like she was the only person in the world that ever mattered. Or it was the fleeting touches always filled with care, possibly even the way he kissed her. Unraveling herself completely every time his lips brushed over hers, because, how was it possible to convey such adoration through an action like that? She was utterly doomed.

Doomed when she danced with him, strong hands taking her own and spinning her only to pull her closer to him after. A drunken grin upon his lips that made her weak, scraping her knees raw, in that moment, with how hard she fell for him. Doomed when, shot after shot after drink after drink, he was all she could think about that night despite the haze in her mind.

She almost lost her breath when she felt his hand on the middle of her back, "I'll be right back. I promise." A reassurance before he stepped away, losing himself in a crowd of people at a house party.

"He's obsessed with you, y'know that, right?" She turned her head to look at the woman beside her. Not realizing Kiyoko had found her within the sea of people, she took a small breath.

"I know."

"You're obsessed with him too."

"I know."

"You should date him then."

A pause. Drunken thoughts came and went, desperately trying to piece together a response - but nothing came. Beer and liquor heightening her emotions she felt herself slip further, so she didn't realize the tears that slipped down her cheeks. A bad drinking habit of the woman - crying. Always finding herself pouring herself out completely when only nudged by alcohol; she would always throw herself off the cliff of her sentiments.

Kiyoko called her name once, and again, until finally taking her hand. "Let's go outside."

Everything around her was hot and sticky, a humidity that hung in the air from sweat and liquor; one of the many downsides of house parties in general. And her skin felt scorched against Kiyoko's cold hand, but nonetheless, she followed. "But Sho-"

"I'll text Suga to tell him where we are." She nodded and didn't question anymore.

Drunk and crying. Embarrassing, she told herself. But the outdoors felt nice as soon as it washed over her, fresh air hitting her in a wave once the door was opened and she was pulled out. Following behind the other woman, head spinning and steps haphazard, drunk out of her mind. Kiyoko sat down on the curb, so did she.

Letting go, her tears didn't stop. Streaming down her face, cheeks hot from liquor and head reeling from overstimulation of feelings, she caught her breath with a sharp inhale before letting a sob rack her body. "What the fuck is wrong with me, Kiyoko?" Speak slurred through distressed cries and inebriation. "Why can't I let myself be happy? He makes me happy, why can't I just let myself be happy and date him?"

She took a breath and looked up from her phone with worried eyes, sending a text to Suga quickly before pulling her into a hug. Met with silence, because what should someone say to another pouring their heart out? The two women remained like that as moments passed, Kiyoko allowing the woman to wet her shoulder with tears, holding her like her life depended on it. The other, wearing her heart on her sleeve, intoxicated, and fully allowing herself to feel the feelings she pushed down for the man.

But there was a door slam, cursing, and loud steps taken on tentative feet that pulled both of their attention. Blurry, wet eyes looking up to see the cause of such an outburst; thinking to herself that she didn't want to be labeled as "that drunk crying girl" if anyone else were to see her.

Hinata Shoyo.

She almost let out a sad, drunken laugh at him, even despite her situation. Belligerently drunk, tripping over himself, but running to her regardless. A lovesick fool, sprinting to see what on earth was wrong as soon as the text 'yn is crying outside' hit his notifications.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Stumbling over words as he reached her, out of breath, and putting his hands on his knees. Brown eyes swimming with concern, flickering his gaze between her and Kiyoko.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her, panic written on his features, and racking his brain for how to fix the situation. To see the smile that made his heart melt every time he saw it. Or it could've been when he sat down with her, taking Kiyoko's place, as to give them space, and gave her a drunken, sad smile. Possibly even the way he wrapped his arms around her without question, letting her cry without a second thought because it was what she needed. Allowing him to share the space with her, moments passed as all she could do was cry, and he held her regardless.

He felt his heart chip and shatter as she looked over to him, tear stained cheeks searing into his mind - an image that shook him to his core. "What's wrong?" Asking again as she took a deep breath, tears slowing now that the moment had passed.

"I really like you and I'm scared of how happy you make me. It terrifies me to think you'll leave when you realize I'm not worth it."

Another pause. Brown eyes flickering over every feature of her face, a drunk mind trying to decipher what to say. But he smiled, regardless of the woozy feeling of falling deeper and deeper.

"You're worth everything. I think you're stuck with me."

I SOBBED writing this

it's ok to not be ok sometimes <3 you're allowed to feel your feelings

next chapter is the last one and I'm going to ugly cry when it's over

taglist under cut

@muyyie @wyrcan @eggyrocks @eclecticeggknightpsychic @nbcvs

@marzzn @naweirdo @yukii-1 @girlkissersco @yuminako @kunimix

@empress-pug-pug @cherrypieyourface @lvtilzs @punkhazardlaw @localgaytrainwreck

@crownj1min @sereniteav @madiexuberant @st4rdusttx @chizunata

@le000xxgrd @iheartpinky @muskratlove @mollyrolls @cryptictheseus

@theycallmenanamisgirl @jaeminsbuckethat @deluluforcarlos55 @bunninio @jeonsfizz

@causenessus @hermaeusmorax @guitarstringed-scars @whosmiadotcom @softpia

[avatarl0v3r]

HEY PRETTY! Could you write about neteyam x fem!reader where in the end he doesn't die but they manage to save him and it was just a big scare, after the whole fight is over and they return to metkayina... they go to a part away from everyone and reader heals the wound and there are some touches on the thigh and kisses... nothing more than fluff and some angst for the fear that reader felt when he almost lost it. fluff and little angst...

NeteyamxFem!Metkayinareader

Index: Neteyam and the reader are dating and neteyam gets shot

Warnings: mentions of death, and angst

You were with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Kiri, Neteyam on the ground gasping for air “This is my fault i shouldn’t have ever-“ “Lo’ak! this isn’t your fault you were doing what you thought was right, saving your sisters because that what brothers do” You say stern enough to get him to stop rambling while still putting pressure on the wound going threw his side.

Tisreya hugged Lo’ak seeing the tears in his eyes she then bend down and hugged you she then looks at you and put her hand on you shoulder “He must get back soon maybe mother can help” You looked at your sister tears flowing out your eyes.

“A-And what if she can’t!, then what, what’ll happen then!” Neteyam reaches for your arm “Y/n i will-,” you watched as more tears filled your eyes as he was struggling to get his words out “i will be fine” You kept pressure pray to the all mother she would help him.

You sat there applying pressure to him side looking around frantically looking for either Jake or Neytiri your watch as Neteyam’s grip on your arm starts to loosen “Neteyam! Neteyam! Neteyam!” You start to scream his name as his grip loosened completely both Lo’ak and spider pulling you away from him.

No! No! No! please don’t leave me you can’t leave me please

Tears soaked you face as grief washed over your body you where pulling and kicking trying to get away from them to get back to Neteyam as you screamed and kicked and tried to rip out of their grip but they were much stronger.

Jake and Neytiri finally showed up Neytiri was crying over her son you fell to the ground crying and screaming you’ve never felt this kind of pain before it was as if someone ripped your heart out and ripped it in half.

Neytiri called her Ikran over and gave him to Lo’ak “Ride him back to the village and bring y/n and Neteyam back with you” He nodded

Neteyam was brought to a room you weren’t allowed inside Ronal asked what had happened and Lo’ak explained and she nodded she told him no one was allowed inside and said to take you back to your hut to rest he did as she said you followed him back to your hut where he left you to rest.

Everyone was back in the village everyone was at dinner but you. you sat there for two days you haven’t seen your mother, you didn’t smile, didnt eat, your brother Ao’nung made you get out much to your annoyance and when you did go with him you just looked at the ground.

You both walked passed the hut Neteyam and your mother were in you both looked over when you seen your mother exit the room you looked at her with hope in your eyes she closed her eyes and looked down and shake her head as he walked back into the hut.

Ao’nung wrapped his arms around you holding you close as you fell to the ground feeling your whole world crumble he felt his heart break as he held you, you’ve always been the strong one even during deaths but this was something different and he didn’t know what to do so he just sat there with you in his arms.

Tuk came and found you and tried to comfort you but nothing worked you just looked at her “I’m sorry Tuk” Your voice cracking at the end.

Tuk then walked over to you and hugged you to which you gladly accepted “Y’know Neteyam loved you, a lot he wouldn’t shut up and we’ve only been here for a few months” Her words made you smile and hug her tighter.

You then end the hug and stand up she followed and you held out your hand “Let’s go” She smiled and grabbed your hand excitedly you both walked back to the village and you took Tuk home upon walking up to their hut Tuk ran towards her parents.

“Tuk where have you been?” She then turned and pointed to you and you stood there smiling at them Neytiri walked up to you and hugged you and thanked you for bringing Tuk home you smiled and said it was no problem.

You started to walk back to your hut when you walked passed the hut Neteyam was in you decided to walk in not caring what your mother said you walked in and seen Neteyam laying there you walked over and sat down by him.

You grabbed his hand and sat there studying his face it was quiet for awhile you let reality set in as you realized he was gone but you had a feeling he was still there.

“NeNe,” (na-na) you hesitate for a moment thinking you’d be crazy for trying this “squeeze my hand if you can hear me” for awhile nothing happened and you lost hope coming to terms with the fact he was gone your eyes started to tear up until you felt a light squeeze.

You instantly let go and ran out the hut trying to find your mother you desperately ran around the village to find her you seen her from afar “Mother! Mother! it’s Neteyam, come quickly” She followed after you and found herself in the hut where his body lay.

“Y/n what is it?” She said slightly worried “Mother Neteyam he squeezed my hand” She looked at Neteyam then you “My beautiful daughter, you need to come to terms that he’s gon-“ you interrupted her “Im telling the truth see for yourself.”

She sat down and grabbed his hand “Neteyam if you can hear me squeeze my hand” After a few moments nothing happened and she closed her eyes sighing “Y/n he’s go-“ Her attention instantly went back onto him as she felt him squeeze her hand.

“Hurry get my things,” you only looked at her “now!” you hurried and grabbed her things and she started to work on him again this time you helping.

After what felt like hours she stopped working you looked at her confused “Now we wait,” she said as she stood up “you’ll stay here and watch over him throughout the night if anything happens come find me” You nodded at her words and she walked out the hut.

You stayed awake most of the night even though you were laying right next to Neteyam just watching him you realized you still needed to sleep “nga yawne lu oer Neteyam” (i love you).

“Y/n, wake up” You woke up slightly and ignored the person calling your name and turned the other way “Hey, are you ignoring me for sleep?” Still half asleep you replied turning around to face the person “Leave me alo-“ your words got caught in your throat “Neteyam!” you jumped up and hugged him tears of joy rolling down your face.

“Ewya has heard my prayers” You say as you continue to cry, Neteyam just holds you happy to see you again.

You let him go realizing Neteyam is alive “I’ll be back” You run outside and to the sully family they all look up confused because of how early it is “It’s Neteyam,” you say out of breath “hes alive.”

Neytiri jumps up and runs to the hut and is greeted by a sight she never thought she would see again her son sitting up looking at her “Neteyam…thank you all mother.”

The rest of the sullys pool into the room excited to see their brother and son, you turn to leave to find your mother and tell her the news.

That’s night at dinner everyone was happy and talking and laughing amongst themselves you found Neteyam.

“Neteyam,” you say as you look at him “i want to show you something” her gets up and follows you far away from the village.

You sat down and he does the same he then turns to look at you “What are we doing out here?” you didn’t say a word instead just looking out at the sea tears filled your eyes he moved closer and placed his hand on your thigh you cried at the thought that you almost lost him “You can tell me anything you know this Y/n” you turned to him.

“You don’t understand I almost lost you,” you say as you looked at him he held you face in one hand “i-i thought you went to be with ewya” You said looking away from him he turned you’re head gently to face him “I would never leave you.”

You smiled slightly “Maybe so but you don’t make the choice” He didn’t understand at first but then once he did he kissed your forehead “I may not have a choice but it’s up to Ewya,” he rested his forehead against yours “but Ewyas choice was to let me stay here.”

You looked down at his torso and noticed the blood still on the cloth wrapped around him “Here sit” You say as you pulled out a new cloth you keep on you at all time incase something happens he sat down and let you change the cloth.

“Just please don’t scare me like that again,” you sighed “and don’t do anything risky like again i do not know what i would do if i lost you Neteyam” He didn’t say a word and just let you continue in silence.

You both headed back to the village and your mother instructed that he was to stay inside the hut until he was able to move how he normally would just so the somewhat scar doesn’t rip open and so he’s closer to their hut so she could get to him faster incase anything was to happen.

The two of you sat there in the hut together just enjoying being in each others presence you kissed his face to which he smiled to then you kissed his lips Neteyam doing the same back to you you two then rest your foreheads on each other’s and close your eyes

“oel ngati kameie” (i see you).

I decided to try a new pov instead of first person idk which on i like better if i’m honest but we’ll see

[un-love]

drunk voicemails with svt (part 2)

a/n: after 11 months, it's completed lol. i'm sorry for taking so long, i'm terrible at this writing thing

find part 1 here

♡॒ dokyeom

i keep thinking about that night. all the things you said, the things i said. the hurt in your eyes. i wish i had reached a hand out to wipe your tears. i wish i could go back and tell myself to stop avoiding my feelings under the pretence of giving you space. but i can't. the only thing left to do now is wonder. and drink. in that order. to wonder if there's a chance that you didn't mean it. if it breaks your heart as much as it breaks mine. if your days are as miserable as mine, or if you've moved on. does it make me a terrible person to hope you feel incomplete without me? your side of the bed is still unslept on, your clothes still living in my closet. you're still here, so why won't you talk to me? i'm starting to lose track of the voice mails i've left you, i'm sorry

♡॒ mingyu

oh hey. this went straight to voicemail...i know we just parted ways but i miss you. we're still at the bar and if i don't say this now, i never will. i spent half the night looking at you, i know you knew. you looked beautiful. i should be feeling embarrassed or something but the liquor has washed away the shame. i can't leave this unsaid anymore. okay? it hurts to go through the same motions everyday. i don't want to spend my days wishing cheol invites you to dinner every evening. i don't want to steal quick glances at you just because i'm afraid you'll disappear if i look away. don't wanna see you in anyone's arms but mine. want to walk you home without being worried about what you think of me. but you already know this, don't you? you've always been able to look right through me. you probably think i've said too much, but i swear, nothing i say will ever come close enough to how i feel about you. i almost want to take it back, but i won't. not tonight.

♡॒ minghao

i think of you when i'm sitting down to eat, when my friends buy mint chocolate ice cream or when i see the shirt you gifted me discarded in the back of my closet. the sunset was three different shades of pink last saturday and i almost sent you a picture. can you come back to me? the winter chill has permanently made a home in my bones and i'm lost without your touch. the threads of sanity i'm hanging on by are worn out now. my best friend is giving me a look that says he wants to leap across the bar and snatch my phone, but i don't care. i want to make it right. call me please.

♡॒ seungkwan

you were right. i'm not okay...i'm doing terribly. *laughs* nothing is okay. it hurts everywhere. it hurts when i close my eyes, it hurts when i take a breath and it hurts when i think about how i've pushed away everyone who wanted to help me. i keep having this dream where you refuse to let go of my hand. i'm cold. everything around me is crumbling and i think it's my fault. i can't say that i don't deserve this, but i need you now. will you come to me? will you come and hold my hand?

♡॒ vernon

i have been meaning to ask you this. i- yeah. you remember that dress you have? the long black one with sequins all over it? you look so beautiful in that. AND when you put up your hair and i can see your pretty face? stunning. why is it so hard for me to say these things to your face, dammit? it's all true. i wanted to tell you this before we— well the reason i'm calling is because i wanted to ask you to be my date to the wedding. and no, no that's not the only reason why i'm telling you how beautiful you are. it's one of the reasons. the other one is that i'm drunk! you're gorgeous, angelic even. and you still will be tomorrow, when i'm sober. so you know, back to the fact that i need a date. i mean i need You to be my date. i would love that. so ... call me back, yeah? is it odd that i already imagined how you would look on my arm in that dress? probably. i'm hanging up now-

♡॒ chan

i'm looking at the clock ticking and the numbers are blurry but the only thing on my mind is that your flight is in six hours. and then in another twelve hours you'll be in my arms. you and me. it's always been you, you know? the thought of us not having to be apart ever again is making me crazy, i'm sorry. i'm not jinxing it, right? god. the first thing we're doing is going down to my favourite ice cream place!!! i'll drive you back home and to work everyday. and when you put your hand against mine, it'll be soft. it won't be cold, hard glass anymore. can you fucking believe that? it's going to be incredible. come to me soon.