#i couldn’t tell you how I feel about the post above

[sugary-daydreams3]

Grief trapped in blue sunglass lens [Gojo's funeral fanfiction]

Summary: Now that the students and Jujutsu associates healed their physical wounds, they have no choice but to face the elephant in the room. Satoru Gojo is gone and everyone deals with the void in their own way before the funeral begins.

Word count: 6.4k

Series: Lost chapters I wish Gege wrote about

A/N: Made this because me and many other people didn't get to see a Gojo funeral nor the character's feelings on him being gone. This is one of my biggest gripes with the ending of JJK. I had no problems with Gojo dying but I feel that how he was handled physically post Yujo fight left much to be desired.

So I decided to write about (mostly) everyone's coping with Gojo's death and a funeral service for him. Forgive me if the funeral may seem culturally inaccurate. Hopefully, no characters come across as too OOC, but some of these characters are hard to get right when they don't have much room to shine their personality in canon.

Glossy nails trail the white engraved letters and numbers above the matte black. She forgot to give back his credit card.  The last time she used it was Hallo-- 

Hall-- 

October 31st. 

October 31st. 

October. 

That fucking month with that fucking day. Like an alarm that keeps ringing and a clock that won’t move forward fused together. 

The month of horror, trick or treating, and bloody exploding eyeballs. The month were kids face real horror, not those stupid dumb skeletons, werewolves, and vampires. The kind of horror that will make someone either sample death or have it as their final meal. 

31st should have ended with her rocking the clothes she picked up eight hours before that fight. Gojo should have been eating endless candy and telling them “Job well done!” in that stupid annoying comforting voice of his. Not boxed away and expecting his students to come out on top in the chilly wild. 

She didn’t even see him die. She didn’t get to say her final words to him that just would have amounted to... 

“If you die your card is mine forever. So die, okay?” 

She couldn’t even say her fucked up, dark, cruel joke that was a mask of “Please don’t fucking die”. 

Why couldn’t I move? 

Why wasn’t I awake? 

Why wasn’t I present? 

Who wants to hear recollections of what happened between October 31st and December 24th? She wanted to help out with the Culling Games. She wanted to see the great battle of Sukuna vs. Gojo. She wanted to finally meet this Yuta kid and see everyone’s reaction to him coming back. She wanted to save Megumi when Yuji couldn’t. Picking up the pieces of Yuji’s mistakes. Being that deciding factor that could have prevented so much bullshit. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Why wasn’t I here? 

Her only eye stings, blinking two tears to fall on the muted black card. The heartache trails down to the 2754 of the four-part row of digits. Nobara quivers her lips as she tries to swallow down pills of regrets, exclusion, and despondency. 

Residing dust forces a couple of coughs out of Inumaki. He waves off the floating particles and goes for the next book off Gojo sensei’s shelve. He grabs the spine of the book and slowly pulls it out.  

He gave up being curious on the subject matter of these books once he cleared the first row. Just of bunch of thick, mind-numbing pieces on Jujutsu, Cursed Energy, or Autobiographies on retired sorcerers.  

Turning from the back cover, in red bold letters his purple eyes reads: Learning Sign Language for your students. Written by... sounds like a random Japanese woman with some fancy doctor degree. 

Narrow eyes widen as confusing experiences lingering in his memory begin to click and warp into sense.  

On the third day of his first year, he remembers cringing at Gojo’s attempt to speak random rice ball ingredients to him. That was his “way” of trying to connect with him. Offended, Inumaki wrote him off and ignored any potential conversation to have with him at that point. 

Around early June, he walked up to see Gojo silently greeting him with fluid movements of his hands and fingers. As fluent as someone who been signing JSL for several years. Was that the reason he stopped trying to conversate with him three weeks prior? 

Taken back, Inumaki slowly signed back, leading to having their first full conversation ever. It ended with Gojo patting him on the shoulder and Inumaki turning to watch his goofy sensei walk off in a cheerful mood.  

Inumaki caresses the book and notices the personal sticky notes poking out of many pages. He looks behind him to see Panda pre-occupied. Inumaki sets the book in his bag, setting it aside to read through later. He shakes his head and stares at the half empty shelve for a long moment before continuing his duty.  

Panda was busy distracting himself with Satoru’s doodads instead of effectively cleaning out his office. Throw in the fact that it was a journey to simply carry things that would have taken him a few seconds to put away had he been in his original big body. But the funeral starts in a few hours so he has to stop monkeying around soon.  

Panda frowned. There was barely any time to “monkey around” ever since Satoru died. It seems like when he died, he took the fun and security with him. Did most of his friends grow to be so powerful from the battle on Shinjuku? Sure, they’re practically monsters at this point.  

But for a long time, Satoru’s level of strength gave them breathing room to take off the sorcerer mask sometimes. Now that he’s gone, there was no room to be a kid anymore. His friends are teenagers cursed with adult responsibilities; the rest of their adolescence stripped away like a bloody band aid.  

He’s a panda so he doesn’t really understand that feeling. However, he sees it with the forced smiles he’s greeted one second with frowns pulling them down moments after. Desensitized responses they all show in public contrasted with the quiet weeping he hears going on late night campus walks. It will always give him emotional whiplash. 

Life after Satoru was a canvas board of still grey with overwhelming dark blue surrounding it.  

Panda opens a brown box to see a bunch of stuffing peeking out. Dropping down, he turns the box around to see in black marker: Spare stuffing for Panda. 

Panda releases a deep sigh. He feels his stitches ache all over. 

Loose blue strains spills over the wholesome photo of her and Gojo that day. A day where her biggest concern was not looking stupid in front of the cute, strong, funny teacher at the Tokyo campus of Jujutsu High. A day where her classmates bickered with coal still in their eyes. A day when Mai was cranky and alive. When Mechamaru... 

Miwa shuts her eyes as her tears soaks her eyelashes. Blurry eyes open to take in the photo that seem like centuries ago, when it was only since September. Gojo’s peace sign and shared chipper smiles fill the holes in Miwa’s heart for a moment. Her thumbs zoom in on Gojo and lingers over his tall figure dominating most of the selfie. 

A small smile forms behind the isolated blues. “Gojo...” 

Kusakabe groans, rubbing the back of his head whenever his mind wanders to that blue eyed trouble maker. There were days he enjoyed the consistent stillness without that loudmouth breaking it. Then there were others where the silence was drowning; his cheery, obnoxious voice completely void to lift up everyone’s spirits when needed. Today was one of those days. 

Twirling his toothpick, he remembers the countless times Gojo annoyed the hell out of him with his comments and pranks. There wasn't a day where he wouldn’t drag one of the Jujutsu faculty and staff in his shenanigans. So bad that one-time Gojo went too far and it ended with Kusakabe wishing he was dead. 

Be careful what you wish for, I guess. 

Kusakabe looks up at the passing clouds trailing through the blue. For such a day for Jujutsu High, the sky didn’t reflect the collective feeling. The man bats his eyes as the ambient nature lures him into a still mind. 

“Kusakabe!? Are we serious right now!?” One of the higher ups barked. 

Gojo shakes his head, “Is there ever a day you guys don’t bitch about--” 

“I agree that sending me would be a horrible idea.” Kusakabe interrupted. Gojo turns to see Kusakabe wearing a “Yes sir. No sir.” attitude. He knew he was lying.  

Kusakabe has been looking forward to a sorcerer mission like this ever since he met him. A mission where all you do is investigate and gather information, no risking your life, no fighting at all really. More like a trip out on Japan’s quiet grassy countryside with a side quest of being an undercover sorcerer representing Jujutsu High.  

Gojo steps forward. “Kusakabe is our best grade 1 sorcerer. He’s no fighter and a nice guy for the most part. He would be better to talk to lame country folk than I am...” 

The elders remain silent. Kusakabe can feel the tension rising. “Gojo, you don’t have to--” 

“I got too much other shit going on to do some boring mission in the countryside. If you send me instead of him then you guys are more senile than I thought.” 

“Gojo!” Kusakabe quickly turned to the many shoji screens hiding the higher up’s bodies. The fact that he had no idea how they were reacting put his worry in overdrive. 

One of the elders sighs, “We don’t feel like arguing with you on this. If you truly think Kusakabe of all people would fit this mission then so be it. But if he fails this, he will suffer the consequences. His mistakes are not on us.” 

“When is it ever on you?” Gojo bounced back. 

“Dismissed.” The other elder said. 

Once they left the room, Gojo wraps his arms around Kusakabe shoulders and bellowed out his carefree laugh. “Don’t forget to bring me back some gifts. You owe me afterall.” 

Kusakabe lowers his head away from the blue and moving white to face the cracked, washed solid grey.  

His heart didn’t ache for Gojo. Tears didn’t trail down for him either. But the crumbs of memories made him appreciate the little explosive highlights he gave his boring, uneventful life. Like those popping candies that felt like fireworks in your mouth.  

Yeah, Gojo was those popping rock candies. 

Hakari holds the stack of yen as the various fights go on the multiple T.V. screens. Licking his thumb, he counts through the overwhelming amounts of money from his lucky bets. Although he’s been hanging around Jujutsu High more as of recent, lately everything has been about Gojo, his death and preparing for his funeral. All of the mope and serious mumbo jumbo was getting to Hakari, so he retreated to his fight club. 

“When does it start?” Kirara asked, her pink french tips gently caressing his ashy blonde thick hair.  

Hakari shrugs, “Donno. Seems like everyone is too depressed to talk n’ shit.” 

Banding up the yen, Hakari montages the times Gojo left him feeling the fever he often seeks out of many.  

Training him so hard he puked the rest of that day. Pushing him to go after Kirara and teasing him about his crush. Giving him shitty relationship advice. That one time they did that silly pose where they flashed their teeth then flexed their muscles for the camera. Cheating Gojo out of thousands of yen over a wrong move during Blackjack. 

Hakari traces the numbers of the yen, smirking over the fun times that crazy man with the blindfold gave him. 

Two streaks of damp wet are noticed when the wind sway past Ijichi’s jawline. Another dam of woe threatens to burst until he quickly wipes his sore undereye. He doesn’t even know why he’s getting so emotional over someone who and still-- 

Not sill. Damnit brain, get with the program. 

Someone who used to bully him relentlessly ever since they were kids up until just a few weeks ago. To him, Gojo was nothing but... 

Why are you still here? Need me to punch you to get the message? 

You failed you’re driving test again? You can’t even do that? Go join a local circus at this point. 

Shoko is out of your league, man. You don’t even have the balls to talk to her. How can you expect her to like you. 

Ijichi, don’t piss me off.  

A guy like that doesn’t deserve his tears. Nope, not at all... 

The only person I trust to catch me if I fall is me and, um, Ijichi I think. 

Wanna go out for some hot cocoa? It’s freezing today. 

Well, well, well. You finally took Shoko out for dinner, huh? I guess the world is ending soon. So, how did it go? 

Look, Ijichi may be a wet doormat but he’ll get things done for us and the students. C’mon guys, give him more credit than that. 

Ijichi huffs a stuttered breath. Nope. Nope. No. No. No-- 

You’re the man I trust the most. That’s the only reason I need. 

Ijichi breaks down. A new coat of tears staining his dry skin. His wrung heart soaked again with a grief too complex to explain. 

Cigarette smoke brush past Shoko’s dry, dull brown hair. No tears had nor will shed for her childhood friend. She wasn’t a crier, even when she was little. When her father died a long time ago, not one tear dropped.  

Instead, there was heavy rocks that magically weighed in her chest. A weight too heavy for her slim body to carry. A weight she dismisses publicly but can’t ignore in private. So, in true Shoko fashion, she grabs a pack of ciggies and breaks her 11th vow to never smoke again. Looking out on the campus field, her eyes strain with stress and lack of sleep. Her heavy heart was to blame this time. 

“Can’t believe I’m being peer pressured right now.” Gojo says in a jokingly nervous tone. 

Shoko lifts up the cigarette, unlit and waiting. “I’m tired of being “The Smoker Chick” of our school. It’s always so lonely smoking by myself.” 

“Regardless if I smoke this or not, you’ll always be “The Smoker Chick”.” 

“Gojo please.”  

Gojo sighs and contemplates the nicotine stick itching to ruin someone’s lungs. He was far from being a goody too shoes but smoking wasn’t his thing. 

“You’ll look so cool doing it. It’ll just be between us.” Shoko persisted. 

Gojo rolled his eyes and snatched the cig from her. He placed it between his perfect, straight whites and waited a moment before turning to Shoko. Shoko stood in disbelief until Gojo snapped his fingers in front of her. 

“Well hurry up and light it!” Shoko quickly digs in her pocket and lights the white end. It takes a few seconds for the cigarette to burn before smoke waves out of the tip. Gojo inhales then blows out a line of smoke effortlessly. Shoko gasps, “How did you not cough?” 

“Duh! Look who you’re talking to.” 

“Oh...yeah. Right.”  

The juxtaposition of Gojo’s divine-like aura and angelic appearance partaking in the trashy, commoner act of smoking was a sight to behold. Almost like he gave a middle finger to his reputation as the strongest sorcerer and decided to be a normal dude for once. Shoko remembers judging Gojo’s bougie attitude during freshman year. She saw his snobbish nature a mile away before he even introduced himself to the class. One thing about Gojo though, he never failed to surprise her with his willingness to bring himself down from heaven. 

Shoko is dazed by Gojo puffing out a few quick smokes before she is presented a hit. 

“This shit tastes awful. How do you smoke these every thirty minutes?” Gojo barfed his tongue out. 

Shoko giggles and breathes in the loud smoke that always hugs her brain. “Helps me stay numb to the bad stuff in the world.” 

Although that was Gojo’s first and last time ever smoking, their budding friendship springs tenfold. 

Shoko was back at that same spot they wasted their youth a decade and so ago. Only there was no arrogant, annoying but funny classmate to secretly cast her judgement on anymore. What only remains is a cigarette and a woman who had an uneventful life outside of being a sidekick to Gojo’s adventures. 

She takes another hit, her tongue recoils at the cigarette taste. Now she gets what he meant back then. 

The drizzling rain show no signs of giving nature a break from the drab, cold atmosphere. Megumi lays against his cushioned but firm mattress, his brain refusing to move his body. Tears quietly drip down to damp the grey sheets, adding to the collection of wet dots on his bed. The air condition overpowered the pitter-patter behind the window. The dull sound clearing his head to reflect his whirlwind called life these past couple months. 

Countless memories punched his mind. There was so many foggy, forgettable memories of Gojo growing up. His attempt to give them meaning and higher resolution gave him a slight headache. 

First his sister then-- 

Gojo.  

He saw it while being a few feet away; Gojo’s blood forming small puddles, leaving his body with his life tagging along. The tired whisper of “My bad, Megumi.” a few moments before his eyes went still. He couldn’t even respond due to that curse going on about some dumb speech after almost getting both of them killed. 

Sukuna.  

Heat overwhelmed his body as soon as the name rung. He hates him. He hates him. He hates him. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Red and blue hatred evolves into purple flames the longer it sits, burns, and melds. Never has he felt so much rage off a name alone. 

Blood on his hands without the purpose and maliciousness to back it up. Sukuna was gone but the damage will never fade away. It’s here to overstay it’s welcome and haunt him forever.  

“Good riddance.” Maki lets the intrusive thoughts travel to whispers.  

Alone in the tidy bathroom, she struggles to create grief over someone that just annoyed her most of the time. The only one she believes deserved her grief was her sister, Mai. 

Don’t get her wrong, she respected the hell out of Gojo’s strength. But the only solid memories she has of him is sending her favorite junky snacks whenever it was her time of the month and excused her from class that week.  

Other than that, he was like a gnat that wouldn’t get out of your face. Loud for no reason. Failed to read the room. Teased her about Yuta, even during the time he went to Africa. Pestering her about dumb school shit. Yeah, that’s the Gojo she knows. Not this revisionist history almost everyone on campus is crafting for him now that the bastard is gone gone.  

Yuta and Gojo had a closer relationship than others students, which unfortunately, makes him stricken with the depressing “Gojo is gone” epidemic too. But compared to him and the Jujutsu High students and staff, he actually has good reason to grieve.  

It’s just too overwhelming to deal with for more than an hour. She had to get a breather from seeing someone she cares about so defeated emotionally. She seen Yuta cry before but not to this extent, not this long either. 

Another round of sobs scolds her indifference to Gojo as they breakthrough the thick bathroom door. Maki looks down and moves her toes against the maroon bathroom rug to build back her patience and tolerance. Letting out a short breath, she pushes herself off the sink and keeps her stoic disposition.  

A blank, emotionally collected expression that means well beneath the surface.  

Yuta cries drag out as he lays on the floor. Maki shifts when she places a palm against his back, not sure how to handle his anguish and piercing sobs. 

Thankfully, Yuta’s dorm was positioned to be isolated at the end of the hall. The other male student's dorms are spaced out from each other so he didn’t have any direct neighbors. But still, his mourning was loud enough to hear muffles across his front door. 

“Yuta.” Maki said.  

She didn’t know what to say exactly. She, like many other Zenins, weren’t the best when it came to nurturing. Even though she feels nothing about Gojo dying, she feels everything seeing her best friend so ...devastated. 

Yuta looks up at her for a long moment, tears trailing by the second, lips quivering, throat tight with words he can no longer say to his sensei. He hugs her waist and cries into her chest.  

“I used him, Maki. He’s gone and the first thing I did was use him. It should have been--” 

“Stop. Don’t finish that. It shouldn’t have been anyone else instead. He did what he had to do for us to win.” Maki comforted. Yuta shakes his head, unable to accept logical reasoning. 

“I-I-I...” He sucks in his breath after every attempt to speak. "I didn’t even get to say--”  

Yuta hurls, his mouth seconds away from bursting open. Maki quickly goes for the bucket and puts it under his head. He pukes for the third time today, projecting out yesterday's lunch and dinner that he ate too little of. Maki sighs and pats his back to get him to vomit it all out. Ever since he returned back to his original body, Yuta has been puking whenever he thinks about the most fucked-up stunt he ever pulled. 

Once Yuta was done, he sobs tamed down to a string of lingering cries. He didn’t bother to change his shirt or wipe the corners of his mouth. Maki grabbed a tissue and cleaned up the small bits of vomit around his mouth. She heads back into the bathroom to clean out the half-filled blue bucket yet again. 

Looking up, he sees a framed picture of him and Gojo during his time in Africa. Gojo had him in a headlock whilst making him laugh about something he hates that he can’t remember. Yuta heart swells, the picture clearly being taken off guard by Miguel. Another wave of sorrow drowns him the longer he stares at Gojo in his white dress shirt, sunglasses, alive and well... 

Yuta face scrunches, a fresh sting of tears falling down. He lays down on the cold floor, allowing the grief to lure him to sleep. 

Yuji rubs over his face, a stubborn migraine pinching his thoughts. Snot leaking to tease the tip of his tongue. Eyes in desperate need of a bottle of eyedrops to make up for the tiny streams it released the past few hours. His mind was active but his body was lazy, lying on his bed through the whole morning. But he had to get this eulogy done, if nothing else. 

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled...whether you were a man, woman, or child. He’d... He’d... He-- dammit!” 

He turns on his stomach and picks up the paper again. He reads over the line again, then two more times to write it on his memory. 

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.”  

Again. 

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Yuji groans. 

“Don’t say hell, that might not fly well.” He scolded himself. 

Yuji sets the paper on his nightstand so his brain can have a break. He read over his eulogy so many times that his mind is starting to slip with the constructed presentation he went over since last night. It doesn’t help that throughout this practicing, he’s been crying whenever he gets lost in thought about Gojo-sensei. Maybe he needs to cool down a bit. 

On the edge of his window sits one of Gojo’s many blindfolds. Yuji reaches over with minimal effort and caress the fabric. Black cotton comforts his fingertips while Yuji gives this simple thing a soft gaze. The very first thing he noticed about that strange looking man on that life changing night. 

Scenes of warm and fun premiere from his memory bank, each starring Gojo sensei. Smiles to laughter with jokes, ease, and good food in between. 

Sensei steals a fry from Nobara’s-- 

Sliced open. Blood dripping down white baggy pants and black combat slippers. Torso on the ground. Harsh ice blue still yet soft. Live and unskippable. Live with no rewinds. Sukuna’s joy celebrated in the wrong body. No more rough ruffles on the head. No more boring lessons elevated by high-energy humor and multiple tangents of his glory days. 

Yuji winces and attempts to rub out the migraine and horrible memories intruding the good. There is a knock on the door. “You’re not naked are you?” Nobara voice is heard from behind the door. 

Yuji shakes his head as if Nobara could see. “No.”  

Nobara walks in, remnants of rain dripping from her raincoat. She had a blank face, her usual energy turned down a few notches. “Hey.” 

Yuji barely lifts up a wave, still smoothing out his nerves. “Hi.”  

“So everyone is either busy or depressed so you’re my last hope around here.” Nobara confessed. Yuji lifted up the eulogy, “Can’t. Too busy.” 

Nobara sucks her teeth then observes Yuji’s face. “You look like you’re more in the too depressed camp than the too busy one.” 

“Yeah, that too.” 

Nobara walks over and grabs the eulogy. Yuji lays back down, “Since you’re here, I need to clarify one last thing for my speech. Did sensei buy you those tampon things or those purple diapers?” 

Nobara stops reading and shoots him a look. “Why are you broadcasting my period for the whole Jujutsu High to hear?” 

“It’s supposed to be one of the many things Gojo did for us as students. I couldn’t think of anything else, cut me some slack.” 

Nobara sighs, “He used to get me pain meds and a bunch of tampons whenever my cramps would go into overdrive. And it’s called pads, not purple diapers.” 

Yuji nodded and formed a curve of a smile. “Thanks, Kugisaki.” 

“I could go and hang out with some girls I know from other schools but it looks like the rain is getting worse. What time is the funeral anyway?” 

“It’s in four hours, around two I think.” 

Nobara nodded, “Guess I’ll just go back to my dorm and sulk like everyone else. See you later.” She gets off to leave. “Oh, save me a seat too.” 

Yuji nodded with a frown, not having enough optimism left to give fake smiles. “Sure, see you.” 

Alone again, Yuji picks up the worn white sheet with creases and wrinkles. Headache tamed, he decides to recite again. You can never be too polished. 

“Gojo-sensei was a...” 

Todo sheds single strings of tears while many games of ping pong against Gojo replays in his mind. Besides Mei Mei, Gojo was his common partner in his favorite sport. Now that he’s gone, he had no one to slam “cheating” allegations to in an intense game during the humid, long summer afternoons. 

Ui Ui sniffles as he looks down, avoiding the blunt reality of the casket up ahead. He wasn’t the biggest acquaintance of Gojo but a few moments of the past built a friendly nature between them. His briberies of fried bananas to get direct access to Mei Mei. Being a one-man audience (he slept through his blindfold) for spoken word poetry he wrote about his sister when no one else bothered to hear. Gojo never failed to match his childish energy when other adults or big kids were “too busy” to entertain him. The boy’s quiet sniffles prompted a head rub from his older sibling. 

The pointy ends of Mei Mei’s red nails pierce through her left palm. Her right palm comforts the juvenile emotions of her baby brother. Her face remains calm but blue fire bursts in her heart.  

1.5 Million yen. All that rich fuck had to do is pay me 1.5 million yen back and what does he do? Fuck around and die. Hmph! He probably died to cheap his way out of his debt. Damn you Satoru Gojo. Damn him. 

Ino stood with his ski-mask firm against his chest, looking forward with respect. Gojo was more like an older brother than a co-worker. Despite the pain he feels, he refuses to look away from the body. 

Momo stands next to Miwa, people watching the many guests standing in line to pay their personal respects to the body. As soon as she came, she made sure to grab the nearest seat and keep her head down. Dead bodies always freaked her out. People always assumed she be fine with that kind of stuff since she gives “witchy” vibes but no way. It was the way the body just sat there, all sense of spark or fire vanished. Also, that silly fear that a dead body will raise and walk towards her. God, she hopes they close the casket soon.  

Kirara hugs on to Hakari’s arm as she quietly weeps to herself. Hakari wasn’t the “comforting” type but all she needs from him was his arm and shoulder for support. During the time it was her vs. the conservative Jujutsu World when she decided to transition, Gojo was one of the few who had her back. She has his support from the moment she began dressing feminine all the way to the moment she began going by Kirara. It wasn’t a problem for Gojo to call her by her true name right away since he thought her dead name was forgettable as hell. 

Sure, Gojo wasn’t perfect and had his moments where his views were a bit dated, but he was willing to own up to his mistakes and learn for the better. She’ll never forget the stereotypical girly shit he would buy her because he didn’t know her personal taste that well, not that she even knew at the time either. Corny gifts and unconditional support are why her mascara and eyeliner were messy all around her under eye.  

Most attendees dressed in purple while others sulked in black. Ages from teen to end of the road mingled together within a pot of grief, visible respect, and reservation. Some felt internal relief that the bastard was gone. Some cried harder than they would if their actual father died.  

Gojo lied still in a polished classic black casket, wearing a blank emotion that he would hate everyone to see. His cut, pieced back by Shoko, was barely noticeable. If you weren’t given the details of his death, you’d probably would question how he died. The line to view his body was beginning to reach its end, preparing everyone to mentally checkout for an hour and a half. 

A collected Megumi stared at Gojo in a distracted haze. It was stupid, but he felt like Gojo was playing some sick prank and he’s going to pop out and yell some stupid shit any second now. The longer he stares at the body’s lack of movement, the confirmation rings hollow in his mind. Thankfully Nobara and Yuji kept to themselves, because he’s not in the mood to make idle small talk to take their mind off the obvious.  

Yuta’s sorrow could be heard faintly throughout the large quiet space but not loud enough to distract from the ceremony. His tears took all of the moisture from his face, leaving him paler than usual. Messy black hair clashed with his neat tux that took forever to fit him in. It was a miracle for Maki to get him in that, let alone bring him here. 

 It was a tough sight to see as Yuta was now regarded as the strongest sorcerer of the upcoming generation. Yuta usually had a friendly, shy demeanor around his peers while being focused and stoic during battle. It was rare to see such a rock morph into glass, his pieces laid for the whole institution to see.  

Yuta could care less, the repercussions of his public image being in an awkward, pitiful state wasn’t even a thought in the thick of his pain. He could repair that with time and his rapid growing reputation. This is the last time he’ll ever see Gojo-sensei and his heart can’t take it. 

Throughout most of the service, Yuji idly stares at Gojo-sensei’s memorial card. A portrait of him wearing a bright, goofy smile placed above the December 7th, 1989 - December 25th, 2018 felt like visual whiplash. Yet, he kept staring at it until a microphoned call of his name lifts his head up. 

“Itadori-kun, are you still going to read your eulogy for us today?” Ijichi directs, slightly confused of Yuji’s zoned out state. 

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Just...” Yuji grabs the piece of paper from Nobara’s lap and scoots through the aisle. He walks up to the podium, feeling stares and invisible opinions hover over his back. He gently grabs the mic from Ijichi and sets his eulogy across his face.  

Looking up, the stares feel more intense as the rows and rows of straight-faces set social anxiety in his stomach. It was weird, he usually had no problem speaking publicly to an audience, he was a social butterfly after all. Funerals love throwing everyone’s vibe off, even a generally confident one like his, he assumes. 

“Um, hi guys—hi everyone.” 

He quickly goes over the first line to trigger his trained memory to make the speech sound fluent and genuine. He prays to whoever is listening to not let his mind go blank at a time like this. 

“Gojo sensei was a goofball.”  

The silence screams for a moment as the opening line registers in everyone’s minds. A few chuckle, most keep their solemn unimpressed looks, while others are not even on this planet. Yuji clears his throat. 

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled you whether you were a man, woman, or child. Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you, only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Many students laughed at the last comment. Yuji looks up and chuckles along, a confidence block stacked. 

“He wasn’t a teacher who sugar-coated things, his words were more salt-coated. It stings from being so blunt, but it was needed in order for you to have more flavor.” Yuji takes a quick scan and sees that more people are in tuned with his words. Second block stacked. 

“Growing up, I only had my grandfather for family. So while I kinda knew what it was like to have a dad, I spent a good portion of my life taking care of him during his last years so I forgot what it felt like. Gojo reminded me of that feeling.” 

“He gave life advice outside of teaching. He would take us out for ice cream after missions. One time, he bought those weird tampon things and sea salt caramel ice cream for Nobara during her...y’know.” Nobara gives him a look after he shoots a nervous chuckle her way. 

“He would walk Megumi’s dogs on Saturday mornings. He’d crack a joke in sign that only Inumaki-senpai would understand. He was tough on me, Hakari-senpai, and Okkotsu-senpai during training because he wanted us to take advantage of the potential we couldn’t see. He was...” 

Yuji looks up to see Yuta staring at him with teary but curious eyes, desperate to know what he’s about to lay on the crowd next. Yuji directs a small, sympathetic smile at him then looks down. 

“He was our constant entertainment during the long, boring hours of our jobs. He unlocked the laughter and ease that we often hid to condition ourselves so we could endure the next mission. He made hell feel like home. He was our Gojo-sensei when the world just saw him as Gojo Satoru.” 

Tears don’t hold back on some folks faces. What they expected to be a generic but appropriate eulogy turned out to be an off-beat, heartfelt, kinda corny eulogy written by a dude who loved his teacher. A rare case of a dude who isn’t clever with words evoking more emotions out of a crowd more than any writer ever could. 

“I’m sure some of you struggle to move forward with this loss. Some of you may simply be here to pay respects and move on with their lives preferably without sensei. Or you may be like me, someone just going through the motions and may not know what to do, say, think, or feel. But Gojo-sensei is gone and all we can do is reflect on the echos of his existence.” 

Yuji lets out a deep breath, satisfied to have gotten through his eulogy, the weight off his shoulders. His eyes flickers to see many nodding at his last statement. He scans through his last sentence and nods to himself to bring it home. 

“Thank you, Gojo-sensei, for being the goofball with the blindfold and thank you all for listening.” Everyone except the elders clapped for Yuji, moved by his honest words and pure approach. Yuji didn’t register the applause nor Ijichi’s transition to the next segment since his heart was pounding against his left chest. 

There was another wrinkle added to the eulogy when he goes to sits back down. He stares at his knees to contemplate his social triumph. Nobara looks at him and pats his upper back while Megumi simply gives him a blank look, jailing his “Good job.”. Yuji breathes deep through his nose and gives himself little nods, back in his own world to process those past few minutes. 

The rest of the service goes smoothly, time moving quicker due to Yuji black flashing through the seemingly unbreakable ice. After the main service, many students and staff agreed to meet at the school yard where the funeral bonfire repast will be held. 

While Gojo was being cremated, the bonfire turned out to be a lively celebration of life after so much grief wrung at the service. Snow trinkled down amongst the light conversations, coping dark humor, taste bud-rising food and drinks, and tear stains. Taking a break entertaining his peers, Yuji looked up to admire the floating ice. His irises went up and down, low right and high left, no different from when he saw snow as a kid. Laughter and smiles were behind Yuji, but all he can feel was the snow nurturing the child he locked away. 

Ashes leave out of the hands of many, gliding above the flowers revived by spring. Cherry blossom petals dance with Gojo in the gentle wind. The early days of April was always Gojo’s favorite time of the year, it was only fitting that his departure was during its peak.  

The new year of Jujutsu High begins without the blindfolded goofball to kick it off with overwhelming enthusiasm and junior high-level jokes. Second years, third years, and even the students that graduated are moving forward after months of mental detours. Now, there was a fresh set of first years oblivious to the horrors and traumas that awaits them. It’s a pity they won’t have that funny man in the sunglasses to help them endure their next twelve months of hell.  

[mediocre-shark-tales]

End of the First Season

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

After the season wrapped up, I finally found a moment of calm. The chaos of F1 had slowed, and I was allowed a little breathing room. But even with the peace, I couldn't shake the constant ache in my body. I thought the bruising I had gotten from the Abu Dhabi crash would eventually subside, but it never did. Every day, it seemed to hurt a little more, so I finally caved and went to the doctor to get checked out.

I wasn’t prepared for the news. It wasn’t just bruising. My ribs had cracked, and so had a bone in my right forearm. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no wonder I’d been hurting so much. But, being me, I just shrugged it off. If there was one thing I’d learned over this crazy season, it was how to power through. And if I could make it through that wreck, I could handle a couple cracked bones, right?

I needed to break the news, of course, but I had a little fun with it. I posted on Instagram, sharing all the high points of my 2024 season—my wins, my podiums, the laughs, the frustrations. But as the last picture in the post, I slid in a photo collage of my X-rays. Just for the shock value, of course. 

The response was exactly what I expected. I saw the comments flood in—fans, media, and especially the drivers. They were all so concerned, immediately freaking out about me being in pain, even though I was smiling through it all. Some of the messages I got were hilarious, like Lando calling me crazy for not telling him sooner. “You’re seriously not a robot, right?” he texted me, complete with a couple of eye-roll emojis.

And then there was Max. Max Verstappen. He was texting me every five minutes, demanding I go see another doctor. "You should’ve told me. I would've taken care of it for you." Like he was going to fly out to Monaco just to be my personal healthcare assistant. I almost laughed at how protective he was being, but honestly, it was sweet.

Liam, of course, had the most dramatic reaction. "y/n, what the hell?! Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he practically screamed down the phone. "This could’ve been a big deal! You could’ve been seriously hurt!"

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Liam, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with it. It’s just some cracked bones.”

But he wasn’t having it. "That’s not something you ‘just deal with.’ You need to get checked out, properly. I’m seriously getting worried now."

At that point, I had to assure him—no more freaking out. Everyone was so sweet, though. Even Carlos sent a message telling me to take it easy and that he was looking forward to seeing me next season. “Just don’t go crashing again, okay?”

I even caught a text from Fernando, who simply said: “You’re strong, but next time… maybe take it easy?”

The support from all the drivers was overwhelming, but honestly, it was what I needed. The kind words, the check-ins, it made me feel like I had a big family backing me up.

I had also made the decision recently to buy an apartment in Monaco. It wasn’t something I’d planned at first, but Lando convinced me it was the perfect move. He was all about the idea of having me live close by so we could hang out in the off-season when I wasn’t visiting family back in the U.S. Plus, Monaco seemed like the kind of place where I could really start fresh, living on my own but still be surrounded by people who understood the craziness of F1 life. Lando lives just above me, and we joke that I’m now not on "Lando’s level".

It’s been nice, honestly. I can walk around without the chaos of a race weekend looming over me, and sometimes, it feels like a different world entirely. Having drivers around gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I’m never too far from a friend, and I love that Lando is nearby for spontaneous hangouts. He’s been a solid support system, and having him in Monaco means I never really feel alone. It’s just nice, knowing that someone’s always nearby, especially after everything I’ve been through.

Franco and I were sitting in the lounge of my new Monaco apartment, just a couple of glasses of wine between us as we talked about the future. There was this quiet tension in the air—nothing too obvious, but we both knew what it felt like. He was leaning back on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what’s next for me, to be honest. Alpine offered me a reserve driver contract with them, but it's basically the same thing I have at Williams. The only real difference is that they are telling me they will take Jack out of his seat if he doesn’t do well. So I get paid more and have a more likely chance at racing again with them or I get loyalty points and probably never seat the steering wheel for another season with Williams.” His voice carried this layer of frustration I hadn’t heard from him before. He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see the weight of it all on him. He wasn’t the kind to complain, but I knew how badly he wanted that full-time seat. I could tell by how hard he fought to stay on the grid this season.

“Don’t let them make you feel like you have to settle,” I said softly, my words maybe a little more sincere than I meant them to be. He was one of the most talented drivers I knew, and he deserved to have a seat that would recognize that.

He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? The grid’s stacked, and Alpine knows I’ll have to take what I can get. But I don’t know… maybe it’s not where I want to be.”

There was a pause between us, and I watched him carefully, sensing that this was more than just a conversation about racing for him. It felt like the moment he was letting himself be real, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.

“Franco,” I started, but the words faltered in my mouth. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, not when I knew what was next for me. He had been my rock in so many ways this season, and now it was my turn to be there for him. But it felt like something more was hanging in the air, something unsaid.

He met my eyes, and for a moment, there was this quiet, unspoken connection. “I don’t want to leave, you know?” he whispered, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to me. “But I don’t know if I have another option.”

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I just leaned over and put a hand on his arm, my fingers gently brushing his sleeve. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in silence, letting the quiet of the room fill in the gaps of our thoughts. When finally a thought came to me, “You know, I was in the same predicament before becoming Aston Martin’s Reserve driver?” 

He shook his head, not making eye contact yet. “Before Aston Martin I was driving only as a test driver for Redbull, no chance at racing only at being available when their own drivers reserve or not couldn’t be there. Then Aston Martin came to me with a contract, be their reserve driver. A team with a literal multi world champion driver and a driver who was the owner of the team’s son. So basically, my only chance at driving was someone getting sick or hurt. Or I could stay with my red bull contract and earn loyalty points but probably still never see the steering wheel during a real race.” I looked at him, seeing his expression change. “It was a tough decision but I listed out the pros and cons of each. In the end, Aston Martin gave me the most potential to grow into the F1 world.”

Then, he looked at me, and there was this flicker in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Something that felt real, honest. And I knew in that moment that we were both feeling it—that subtle pull between us. But neither of us said anything about it. Instead, we just let it linger, both of us too scared to do anything about it. “So what I think you need to do is think about what would help you grow or just what you want to do for your future? Is your future still F1 with Williams? Or do you want to explore other options to see what happens?”

His expression changed to one almost deep in thought. I pulled my hand back, giving him a small smile. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, even though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

He smiled back, a little half-hearted, but genuine. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“Same here,” I replied, my voice softer than I meant it to be. And for a moment, it felt like we were more than just teammates, more than just friends. But neither of us made a move. We just stayed there, pretending it was enough to be in each other’s company, not acknowledging the unspoken feelings simmering beneath the surface.

The moment passed, and we both knew it. But neither of us could shake the feeling that things had changed, even if just a little.

Post-season testing was in full swing, and I found myself behind the wheel of a Red Bull. Well, technically, it was a VCARB test, but they had thrown me and Yuki into the main team’s car—basically the 2024 title-winning machine before it would be slightly modified for our ‘junior’ team.

The car felt incredible. The downforce, the grip, the way it responded to even the slightest inputs—I had driven a strong car before, but this? This was on another level. It was a taste of what could be possible with the right setup, and I couldn’t help but grin every time I pushed it through a turn.

“Oi, don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Yuki’s voice came through the radio as we wrapped up a practice run. “You still have to share it next year.”

I laughed, pulling into the pits and hopping out, only to be immediately greeted by VCARB’s social media team. I had already been warned that their content crew was… a little too good at capturing moments. The internet had already fallen in love with the way Yuki and I had been interacting over the past few weeks, posting clips of our playful bickering, him teaching me random Japanese phrases, or me teasing him about his food choices.

Case in point—before I even had my helmet off, Yuki was standing beside me, pointing at my water bottle with an accusing glare. “You forgot to drink again, we never saw the water button activate”

I groaned. “I was driving.”

He snatched the bottle out of the table and unscrewed the lid. “Drink. Now.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, taking a sip just to get him off my back.

Of course, VCARB’s media team caught the whole thing, and I had no doubt it would be on their Instagram story in minutes.

Later that evening, while cooling down after the day’s sessions, I found myself sketching out ideas for my new helmet. My current design had meant so much to me, but with a new chapter starting, I felt like I needed something fresh. Something that still honored my journey but signified a step forward.

I sat in the VCARB lounge, my sketchbook open in front of me, absentmindedly doodling designs. Maybe something sleeker, sharper—still keeping the essence of my previous helmets, but with a modern touch. I knew I wanted to incorporate the sea turtle shadow again, but this time, maybe in a way that intertwined with something symbolic for myself.

Yuki plopped down beside me, peering over my shoulder. “You’re making it blue, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I drive for VCARB now doesn’t mean my entire identity is changing.”

He grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t put at least a little VCARB energy into it, I’ll be offended.”

I smirked. “I’ll think about it.”

Truthfully, this whole transition was already feeling better than I had expected. The team was welcoming, the car felt strong, and Yuki had quickly become an easy person to be around. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had something solid to look forward to with my future in this sport.

Now, I just had to survive another season of teasing from Yuki and VCARB’s relentless social media team.

Netflix: Drive to Survive – Post-Season Interview

The cameras were rolling, the dim lighting of the Drive to Survive interview room setting the scene. I sat in the chair, legs crossed, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap as the producers got everything settled. It felt weird, really. Looking back on the season as if it was just a chapter in a book rather than something I had physically, emotionally, and mentally endured.

The interviewer gave me a reassuring smile before jumping straight into it.

“This was your rookie season—or, well, partial rookie season. And it wasn’t exactly an easy one. How do you even begin to reflect on everything that happened?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. It was the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I don’t think I ever imagined just how much this season would take out of me—physically, mentally. I came into it with so much to prove, knowing that I wasn’t even guaranteed a seat for next year. Then the Vegas crash happened, and suddenly everything shifted. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up—again.”

“You mentioned the Vegas crash—arguably one of the scariest moments of the season. How much did that affect you going forward?”

I swallowed, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek. “It’s weird because at the time, I was just focused on getting back in the car. I didn’t want to sit out, I didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt me. But looking back? I should’ve given myself more time. I was hiding injuries, pushing through pain I didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t until after Abu Dhabi, when I finally went to a doctor, that I realized I had been racing with cracked ribs and a fractured forearm. That… that hit me hard. Not just because I knew I had been reckless with my own health, but because it made me realize just how much I feared losing my place here.”

“And now, even after proving yourself with a few Grand Prix wins, multiple podiums, and signing with Cadillac, you’re still facing uncertainty. How does that feel?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah… it’s tough. I signed with Cadillac for 2026, which is exciting, but next year? I’m on loan with VCARB. It’s a temporary situation. There’s no telling how things will go, how I’ll fit into the team, how the car will perform. And then after that, I’m moving to a completely new team, a completely new project, which—don’t get me wrong—is an incredible opportunity, but also terrifying. I won’t have the stability that some of these other drivers have. I don’t get to settle in and build a team around me. I have to constantly prove myself, adapt, and just hope that everything works out.”

“Do you think about that often? The uncertainty of it all?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Every damn day. But that’s the sport, isn’t it? You never really know where you stand until half through the season. I just have to trust that I’m here for a reason.”

“You had a lot of support from fellow drivers this season, some of them clearly becoming very close to you. How much did that mean, especially in a year as chaotic as this one?”

I smiled at that, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this season without them. Lando, Max, Lewis, Carlos, Franco—they all helped me in different ways. Max was like this overprotective older brother, always making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, which—ironic, considering it’s Max Verstappen we’re talking about.” I laughed. “Lewis was there in a more subtle way, just letting me talk through things when I needed to. Carlos and Lando, well… they made sure I never took myself too seriously. And Franco… Franco understood in a way no one else could.”

“Speaking of Franco, He’s not on the grid next year, but you are. What is that like?”

I exhaled softly. “It is hard. Franco deserved a seat just as much as anyone else. He knows that. We have had a moment together where we both acknowledged that, no matter what happens, we’ll always support each other. But it’s bittersweet. I’m moving forward, but I don’t get to have him there with me next season. It’s just another reminder of how brutal this sport is.”

“Despite all of that, you still seem… excited.”

I let a small smirk tug at my lips. “I mean, yeah. It’s terrifying, but it’s also incredible. I get to drive a Formula 1 car for another season. I get to be part of the chaos. And, hey, if nothing else—at least Yuki and I are going to make VCARB’s social media team’s lives very entertaining next year.”

The interviewer chuckled. “That’s for sure. Final question—if you could say one thing to the version of yourself that started this season, what would it be?”

I sat with that for a moment, thinking. Then, with a slow, deep breath, I met the interviewer’s gaze.

“I’d tell her she should allow herself to lean on her friends more, to allow her grid family to help her when situations go downhill. But even when they get terrifyingly bad, she’s gonna get through it, after all, mama didn’t raise no bitch” I smiled mischeviously knowing that was the last question and while I had done well the entire time not swearing, the last word would have to be beeped for tv.

Pre-Season testing

My first partial season had long ended. The whirlwind of emotions, the battles on and off track, the celebrations, the heartbreaks—it had all been wrapped up into one chaotic, unforgettable year. And yet, as I stood there now, staring at the package in front of me, I realized it was only the beginning.

The VCARB garage was quieter than I had ever heard it. No roaring engines, no frantic radio chatter, just the distant hum of mechanics working in the background as the pre-season test wound down. Yuki had already disappeared somewhere—probably off to grab snacks or cause some minor chaos—and the crew had mostly filtered out, leaving just a handful of us behind.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the box, my name printed in bold letters on the lid. This was it. A new chapter. A new beginning. A new identity.

I glanced up at the lead designer, who gave me a small nod, encouraging me to lift the lid.

My heart pounded as I peeled back the protective wrap, the first glimpse of my brand-new helmet catching the dim garage light. I inhaled sharply, my fingers brushing over the surface, tracing the details I had agonized over for weeks. This wasn’t just a helmet. It was a statement. A promise.

A warning.

Something is coming.

I smiled to myself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, that unwavering hunger for what came next.

The season was over.

But the story was far from finished.

[starlooove]

Ok but this is incorrect bc the depths of her depravity come through in who she is or isn’t targeting. They didn’t TARGET civilians but they saw the deaths and injuries of civilians as a necessary sacrifice if they gave a fuck at all; and that’s important! This is like. One of my issues with arcane where zaunites don’t get the same care put into them as piltover does. Like when piltover is impacted by smth it’s still shots of hurt children and close ups of them crying and running and even background enforcers get set ups (like the pacifist shit or whatever) that pay off in some way but the same is never done for background zaunites unless they’re born to die to make a main character sad. even those like the firelights that should matter to the plot more by nature of it being a class struggle and even above shit about the choices ppl make. It’s not enough that she’s just framed as bad so the details don’t matter; they do matter bc it’s showing just how far they went. For a show that put effort into showing the sound of someone licking their lips and accurately using a made up language from a stupid game; I think whether civilians got caught in the crossfire or not DOES matter and the opening sequence where she uses the gas where they say “the people of zaun deserve to breath” as she’s depriving them of that say otherwise. Like media literacy 101 is not saying death and pain is meaningless actually

[producedbysohyun]

Protective

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the squid games characters would be protective over you

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Hyun-ju (squid game au)

Warnings: mentions of death, might be a little repetitive because I just feel like they would act similar.

Masterlist

a/n: Mb this is pretty short but I haven’t posted in awhile so I wanted to post something (I might add to this as time goes on) !! Please enjoy !!

Thanos:

Let’s just say that if anyone lays a finger on you, they are dead 🤗

You literally don’t have to worry about dying when you are with him

Always has his arm around your shoulder or waist so everyone knows to not try anything with you

During the night he holds onto you so tightly you feel like you could suffocate

He just really doesn’t want anything to happen to you 😔

If you really don’t want to play the games he will cave and vote X

You mean way more to him than money

No matter how bad his debt is

*cough* 1 billion *cough*

In-ho:

Idk how you would get in the game in the first place cause he definitely wouldn’t let you but

Ya you are not dying

Has full control of the game and will do everything he can to make sure you don’t die

Even if it means playing unfairly

Tells the guards to not kill you even if you didn’t pass the game

Definitely tells the guards to give you extra food so you have energy 😭

You’re basically just gonna be playing the games on easy mode

Gi-hun:

Bro has nothing to lose besides you so he’s gonna do everything he possible can to keep you alive

Doesn’t let you go anywhere alone

Beats himself up about not trying harder to end the games because if he did then neither of you would be in this situation right now

Never sleeps because he knows that fights happen at night and he wants to make sure you’re safe

Would immediately put himself in danger if it meant you would be ok

Makes sure you pass the games before even worrying about himself

Dae-ho:

Does not take his eyes or hands off of you

Is not afraid to defend you either verbally or physically

Even tho he is freaked out about the games as well he doesn’t let it get to him and tells himself he has to be brave for you

Always puts your safety above his

Ends up getting no sleep at night because he’s so scared something is gonna happen to you

Always insists on giving you his food even tho he is hungry

In his mind, you matter more.

Myung-gi:

Wanted to keep playing the games but when he figured out you were there he voted for X as he wanted anything but for you to be dead or hurt

Will literally kill anyone who bad mouths you (that one scene when he killed Thanos because he said something about Jun-hee 🤭 rip Thanos 😞)

Doesn’t let you leave his sight for a second

During the special game where the lights went out and everyone was killing each other he just kept you behind him the entire time

Boy was ready to risk his life for you 😭

If you get separated during a game he will probably scold you out of worry before realizing that he’s literally yelling at you for something you couldn’t control

You better believe he won’t let you get separated from him again

Hyun-ju:

Girl would do absolutely anything to keep you alive

Holds your hand 24/7

You guys are NOT getting separated

Doesn’t care about herself

As long as you’re alive she’s ok

Would absolutely crash out if anything happened to you

If you wanted to join the revolt with them she would tell you no instantly

Because if you ended up dying and it was her fault she would never forgive herself

Can’t sleep because she wants to watch over you pt.2 😢

a/n: I hope you guys liked this!! I know I say that requests are closed rn but I will take requests for hcs !! Not for a singular character but if it’s for multiple characters I will gladly write it !!

[anhedoniawrites]

all those dreams where you’re my wife

gif by @reidgif

inside your mind - the 1975

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

summary: coming down from the highs of sex, Spencer and Reader talk about his brain and its thoughts.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 2.1K

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, this is an old piece of writing.

masterlist!

Panting softly, your breath mingled with his, your chest rising and falling in tandem with Spencer’s. Your body felt weightless, the afterglow of your shared passion wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Sweat clung to your skin, and the soft hum of his heartbeat echoed in your ear where your head rested against his shoulder. The intimacy of the moment felt sacred, a shared silence that spoke volumes without words.

Spencer was unusually quiet. Not that his silence was uncommon—he often retreated into his mind after moments like this, his thoughts working in overdrive as if the endorphins had unlocked new pathways in his brilliant brain. He’d once explained to you that post-coital clarity often helped him connect dots he’d never considered before. You’d always found it endearing, a quirk that made him uniquely Spencer.

But tonight, something was different. His quiet wasn’t contemplative—it felt heavier, like the weight of his thoughts pressed down on both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitated as they traced lazy circles on your back, the way his chest rose with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you murmured softly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His chin, which had been resting lightly against the crown of your head, shifted as he tilted his face toward you. His eyes, usually warm and filled with an endless stream of curiosity, now held a flicker of something else—something guarded.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were weighing his words. You could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he struggled to reconcile his thoughts with the honesty that had always been the cornerstone of your relationship.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but unconvincing.

It was a lie—a glaring, obvious lie. Spencer was many things: a genius, a profiler, a man who could recall entire books word for word. But a liar? Never. You knew him too well, knew the way his eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second when he was trying to mask the truth. He knew you knew, too, which made his attempt at deception almost endearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. “Spence,” you said gently, your tone a mix of affection and concern. “You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. Talk to me.”

His lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed again, this one deeper, as though the act of holding everything inside was physically exhausting. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t scare me,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He let out a breath, his gaze darting away for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You frowned, leaning closer. “Try me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

His hand moved softly, almost reverently, to the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, pausing now and then as though he were mapping the curve of your skull. There was something purposeful in the way he touched you, something that felt more like exploration than comfort.

“I wish I could know you the way you know yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. His fingers continued their journey, tracing invisible patterns that only he could see. “I want to be able to have your brain all laid out in front of me, every thought, every memory, every piece of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, his voice soft but steady as he continued, almost to himself. “The back of your head is at the front of my mind.”

He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to untangle the thoughts swirling in his mind. His hand didn’t stop moving, the gentle rhythm of his touch grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll just… watch you breathe.” His eyes flickered toward you, searching your face as though bracing for judgment, but his hand never faltered.

“I’ll watch the way your breathing slows, the way it evens out. It’s like… proof. Proof that you’re real, that you’re here with me. And then I start to wonder…” His voice trailed off, but the weight of his thoughts lingered in the air.

His fingers stilled briefly before resuming their gentle path, tracing the base of your skull as though it held the answers he was searching for. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “I wonder if you dream of me, or of the things you love, or the things you want in life. And I can’t help but think about how much I want to know every part of you. What makes you happy, what makes you sad, what you think about when no one’s watching.”

His other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His gaze was intense, those wide, earnest eyes searching yours for understanding. There was no shame in his vulnerability, only a raw, unfiltered need to be known and to know you in return.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re the most important person in my life, and sometimes it terrifies me how much I feel for you. Like… like I’ll never be able to express it the way I want to.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on your cheek, the other still cradling the back of your head as though he could hold your thoughts in his palm.

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it rested against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear.

For a moment, he stayed like that, his eyes closed, his breathing syncing with yours. His hands stayed gentle, as though he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of a love too big for words.

In the quiet that followed, his touch said everything he couldn’t, and you let it.

In the gentle quiet of the room, Spencer’s voice broke through like a fragile thread, hesitant yet determined. “I mainly watch you sleep because I’m terrified of my mind,” he admitted, his tone a mix of vulnerability and unease. He hesitated, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as if debating whether to pull the veil back on his inner torment.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his breath catching slightly as he continued. “When I sleep…” he started, the words trembling on the edge of his lips. “I dream that you’ve been taken. It’s always the same. I’m helpless, paralyzed—every step I take feels like wading through quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach you.”

His voice grew quieter, a raw edge creeping into it, but he forced himself to keep going. “By the time I finally get to you, it’s too late. You’re lying there…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, as though the very memory of the dream clawed at his throat. “You’re lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. And the only thing I can see, the thing that haunts me even after I wake up, is the ring on your finger.” The room seemed to close in on you, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such a confession. You’d never talked about marriage—not explicitly, at least—but there had always been an unspoken understanding between you two. You both wanted it, you both felt it in your bones, but life had never given you the time to explore that possibility.

But hearing Spencer speak of the ring, of the symbol of everything you meant to him, in such a terrifying, haunting context—it shook you. The dream wasn’t just about losing you; it was about him failing you. About the one thing that represented his commitment, his love for you, now twisted into something horrific, something he couldn’t escape.

Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You could see it now—the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he held himself. Spencer was afraid. Afraid of losing you, fearful of not being able to protect you.

In that moment, the love between you felt both fragile and immense. You reached out to him, your hand finding his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the storm of his emotions. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew how much you cared. But still, you squeezed his hand, hoping to convey everything that words couldn’t.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of everything good, everything I’ve ever wanted to give you. But in that moment, it feels like a mockery—a cruel reminder that I couldn’t protect you. That I failed you.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering in the air like a fragile echo. He looked at you then, his gaze pleading for understanding, for some assurance that the horrors of his subconscious didn’t define him.

“Spencer Reid, you could never fail me, not ever. Don’t ever think that,” you said softly, your voice steady but full of the weight of everything you felt. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours. You could see the self-doubt in his eyes, the fear that had taken root there, and it made your heart ache.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to hear you, to understand. “You’ve given me so much in this life, Spencer,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word carried the depth of your emotions. “So much that I never thought I deserved, but you showed me that I do. You showed me that I’m worthy of love, of happiness. That I’m worthy of you.”

You could feel the weight of your words sink in as Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It wasn’t just the love you had for him—it was everything he had done for you, everything he had helped you realize about yourself.

You gently pulled one of your hands away from his face, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand, placing it over your chest, just above your heart. “This…” you said, your voice catching in your throat as you pressed his hand against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “This is because of you. Every beat, every breath—it’s because of the love you’ve given me. You make me feel alive in a way I never thought was possible.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. The quiet intensity of the moment wrapped around both of you, and you could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the love—and you wanted to lift it off him, even if only for a moment.

You leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent promise that you were there, that you always would be. Then, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, you whispered, “Spencer, you don’t ever need to worry about failing me. You’re everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll never let you forget that.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and love, a kiss that grounded you both in the present moment. When he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, brushing your thumb lightly over his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. And before you could respond, you kissed him again, this time deeper, letting the weight of everything you had just shared hang in the air between you like a promise, unspoken but undeniable.

thank you for reading!

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masterlist!

taglist! @pleasantwitchgarden

[bruhstories]

Bet III

p.1 here & p2. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is. 

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

[verstarppen]

I SAW SMTH ABOUT YOU NEEDING LOGAN SMAU IDEAS AND OH BOY DO I HAVE ONE!! So basically, reader is logans childhood best friend. Always loved gymnastics, and logan always went to all of her recitals and big competitions, and she went to all of his karting practices and races. Now they are grown up and reader is a professional gymnast competing in the Olympics for America, and logan is a professional f1 driver. They are still so close, and they have been dating since they were like 16, but none of the f1 world knows that, they just believe they are friends. Reader manages to get gold at the Olympics so logan does a whole ass simp appreciation post hardlaunching their relationship and giving all of their fans whiplash.

summary; logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you

pairing; logan sargeant x fem! olympic gymnast! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; girl who starts breathing like darth vader after three flights of stairs: yeah i can write from an olympic gymnast's pov that's fine; i've also never been in japan so pinterest was my best friend here

liked by olympics, logansargeant, olliebearman and 3,801,506 others

ynusername the feminine urge to walk around tokyo aimlessly

view all 100,844 comments

vertiddieenjoyer your pfp is such a jumpscare please change it

ynusername never. logansargeant Please? ynusername over my dead body

osc_pastry WILLIAMS MISSING IN THE LIKES 💀

olliebearman Congrats on both wins :)

armstrongslayer NAHHHH setbackhamilttel "call an ambulance, call an ambulance- but not for me" julyestie guys stop giggling...we're on a crime scene

liked by ynusername, liamlawson30, oscarpiastri and 1,400,789 others

logansargeant Thinking of you. Always.

view all 479,007 comments

oscarpiastri How kind of you

logansargeant 😐

roboclaren WHAT WAS THAT....OKAY....JAMES

haas_shaker i too, think of james vowels always forzapluto NOT AFTER WHAT HE PULLED IN AUSTRALIA

bbglewis do you hear that? the sounds of hundreds of f1 wag accounts STOMPING in your direction

mcmango y/n is punching the floor rn

albon_goated oscar too

pierrette girlfriend reveal when

typicallyleclerc It's gotta be that model Caryl Zarubin? Weren't they spotted together at a restaurant recently? lionkingseb no i think he was there with his best friend and she happened to see them and asked for a picture, they don't follow each other on social media or anything like that so it's unlikely typicallyleclerc Ohh, I didn't know that. Thank you.

liked by ynusername, alex_albon, jv.f1 and 2,870,475 others

logansargeant I contemplated how to word this for a long time, but I finally feel ready. For as long as I have known you, you've been a pillar of hope. Someone I can count on. Someone who tells the bullies off when I couldn’t. The first person I ran to after getting my first win.

To see you achieve something as great as an olympic gold metal has made me eternally grateful to be called yours. I can’t promise a win anytime soon, let alone a championship, but I can promise to commemorate you while there's still a stage light above me.

Your shine is brighter than any star, but I’ve tried to replicate it. Congratulations on your achievement, love. I hope you like the surprise 😉

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ynusername YOU ABSOLUTE SAP

logansargeant For you? Always 😌

alex_albon @ ynusername Am I forgiven? I helped with the design

ynusername some sins cannot be forgiven so easily, alexander ynusername im joking ofc you're forgiven, it's not humanly possible for anyone to stay mad at you for long

feeltheorange oh so they're...oh

albogeant this is so sweet i think i feel cavities forming

redbullpapaya STOPPPPP

mcmango nevermind, it's just oscar punching the floor rn

albon_goated A WIN IS A WIN

liked by logansargeant, frederikvestiofficial, arthur_leclerc and 3,151,889 others

ynusername more priceless than any medal

view all 1,988,475 comments

oscarpiastri Okay then, give it to me

ynusername fuck off you can pull it away from my cold dead hands

logansargeant Time to announce the best date competition winner

ynusername you have no competition frederikvestiofficial This couldn't have been more fun than the Ghibli museum :( olliebearman you have to be squidding me oscarpiastri Woomp Woomp arthur_leclerc I would've won olliebearman yeah right olliebearman tuna in next time

ynusername absolutely not, im not doing any more side quests

pic credits; instagram and pinterest

fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun

blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @localwhoore @onecojg @sheridamn @cixrosie @gulabjamooon @melozyxo @spilled-coffee-cup @biitch-with-wifi @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr @marshmummy @lavenderhazeeworld @ravisinghs-wife @namgification @sheridamn @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely @yourmumsdirtysock @elliegrey2803 @mael1pastry @mehrmonga @marymustdie @mellowarcadefun @geniusalpaca

(uni is draining me save me pookies)

[luvyeni]

MÉNAGE À TROIS ,, 钟辰乐 & 박지성

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jisung walks in on you and chenle having sex … and you both don’t mind ヾ

boyfriend!钟辰乐・ FEM!reader ・ ‎ 박지성 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎2.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . threesome, unprotected sex, oral ( M ), mxm themes, mxf themes, no real dom or sub themes, jisung could be seen as a sub, alludes to poly relationship

request. hello!! could you maybe write some smut where chenle is fucking yn and all of a sudden jisung enters their apartment and yn is like “i don’t care keep going” and eventually jisung finds them both and is invited to join

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i finished it , i hope you like it 🫶🏾✨

you didn’t even hear the door close; chenle on the other hand was always hyper aware of everything, even when he was balls deep inside you. “oh-oh fuck baby, fuck.” he struggled to get the words out. “fuck the door just opened , jisung is home.” he said in between moans. “fuck be quiet so he won’t hear.”

you and chenle started out as friends; along with jisung — you three were a threesome who eventually moved in together. about a year into moving in together you and chenle entered a relationship, but you two never left jisung out; you guys did everything together still, but he still gave you two private time. “he’s gonna hear.”

you wrapped your legs around the man’s waist , keeping him from pulling out. “fuck i don’t care , keep going.” you moaned. “let him hear , don’t stop fucking me please.” you could feel the man above you twitching inside you. “fuck you want him to hear?” chenle said. he knew about the little infatuation you held with the younger boy, he knew you’d never cheat on him, but hearing you say this made him wonder how many times have you moaned a little bit too loud just for the boys amusement. “fucking slut.”

he grabbed your legs, almost folding them in half. “you want him to hear me fucking you?” he groaned. “give him some material to jerk off to?” him saying that affected himself more than you, the thought of his best friend stroking his cock to the thought of you two fucking. “sh-shit.” he cursed , you smirked. “se-seems like you want him to hear you as well.” that earned a slap to your cunt. “fucking slut shut up, gonna cum in this pussy , let him hear you cum.”

jisung on the other hand, he was unaware — his headphones shielding him from the outside noises. he was supposed to be working tonight, but his shift was cut short and all his other friends were busy so he was forced to come home. he didn’t mind being home, he loved it there, but he couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes. often left out of plans and having to make plans so you two can have private time. no you two never forced him to do that , but he could just tell when you wanted to be alone as a couple, and you did always try to include him in everything but you two were a couple and he didn’t just want to be there on obligation.

so maybe it was all in his head, but that was him. was he jealous of you two? no, he was happy his two bestest friends found love in each other — maybe he wished he could find something like that… or be a part of the original.

jisung never really struggled with his sexuality; he always knew he liked girls, that was a fact. but he also felt that small attraction to the same sex, there’s only so many times he can pop a boner at the gym sauna when looking at a naked guy before you just came to terms with it and jisung had.

did he find you both attractive? yes he was; but, out of respect for the both of you and your friendships he didn’t say anything… even if he did sometimes hear you two going at it — biting down on his shirt as he fisted his cock to the sounds of both of you moaning. the post nut clarity always left him disgusted with himself, unable to look both of you in his eye the next morning feeling like a pervert.

he was always successful in never walking in on you both; that would have been so awkward, especially if you both happened to lower your eyes and notice his hard on, but he was soon about to mess up that streak all because of those stupid noise blocking headphones you bought out of guilt. “chenle fuck im gonna cum!”

chenle was still plowing into you. “cum slut.” the knots in your stomach tightening, gripping the sheets. “fuck im gonna cum too.” both of you moaning, ready to cum. “oh fuck!” the door came swinging open, right as you both hit your highs. “shit chenle im cumming!”

jisung stood there, he couldn’t hear what just happened— but the visual he was given, your eyes rolling and his other male counterparts head rolling back, he could tell what just happened… and he was mortified. “oh my god, i'm so sorry.”

the two of you didn’t even notice him, until he said something. chenle smirked down at you hearing the boy's voice, his head turning around to face his friend. “i see those headphones work.” he said. “unless you wanted to walk in just as we were cumming together.”

he snatched the headphones off his head. “no-no i swear i didn’t hear anything and the door was open so i thought– chenle leave him alone.” you ran your fingers through your hair. “what? he’s the one still standing there watching like a perv while im still inside you.” you boyfriend said. “yeah and your cock is harder than before with this knowledge, so his company doesn’t seem to bother you.”

jisung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “i-im sorry, i swear i’ll leave you alone, i have these.” he nervously held the headphones, praying to whoever above you both didn’t notice his hard on. “why just so you can go in your room and jerk off , only to ignore us the next morning?” that made his cock twitch. “n-no im- jesus chen , spare him at least if you’re not gonna give him head.” the younger boy's eyes widened. “huh?”

“do you want me to suck you off?” chenle asked ever so nonchalantly, jisung was speechless. “of course he does, he’s been standing there with a hard on for a minute.” you smirked, eyes traveling down to his pants, he tried to cover it up. “i-i don’t know what to say.” he couldn’t tell if you two were playing with him. “well if he’s good at sucking dick like he is at eating pussy, i’d say yes.” you tapped chenle, signaling him to pull out.

you got up from the bed; making your way over to the boy; he felt like he was in a dream, he walked in on his friends fucking, now his fully nude best friend was guiding him to the bed were he was about to get head from his other friend. “sit down.” you pushed him down against the bed.

chenle sat back on his legs, watching you unbuckle another man’s pants; his eyes traveled to his friends cock popping out from his jeans; he’d seen it in his sweats, and he accidentally walked in on him numerous times, but it looked much bigger when he was hard. “think you can fit him in your mouth?” you asked your boyfriend, that made jisung groan. “this coming from mrs.i can’t give a blow job to save my life.” you scoffed. “remember that when you’re begging me to give you head… again.”

you two put your playful banter aside for the boy who still was pale as a ghost. “don’t be nervous.” you kissed his neck. “we’ll take care of you.” you sucked little hickeys down his neck. “don’t we always?” you bit down gently on his ear. “ye-yeah.” jisung stuttered. “you look like you’re about to cum already.” chenle wrapped his hands around the younger boy's cock. “fu-fuck.” he moaned as he began to stroke him, jisung prayed he didn’t cum soon. “are you really that sensitive?”

chenle pushed the boys legs open further, bring his lips down to his cock blowing in the boys tip making his hips buck. “fuck please.” jisung whimpered. “fuck.” his head was thrown back as his friend lowered his head down on his cock. “oh my god.” you smirked. “feel good?” jisung nodded.

chenle bobbed his head up and down on jisungs length, the tip of his friends cock kissing the back of his throat. “come here.” you grabbed the boys cheeks. “so cute.” you brought his lips against yours, taking his hands, bringing it down to your boobs; down your stomach and in between your legs. he moaned against your mouth feeling your wetness on his fingers, he often thought about doing this while he jerked himself off.

you pulled away he moaned as chenle sucked harder on his cock. “fu-fuck you’re so wet.” he moved his fingers up and down your slit. “fu-fuck ji.” you moaned. “put them in.” he pushed his slender finger past your hole. “shit.” you moaned as he curled his finger inside you. “you’re fucking good at that, gonna make me cum.”

jisung could already feel his orgasm approaching as well. “ch-chenle.” the older boy's cock jumped hearing the boy moan his name like that, it encouraged him to go faster. “oh wait fuck!” he groaned, he tried to stop the boy but you were currently riding his fingers and his other just wouldn’t cut it. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed just as the younger boy's head tipped back as his orgasm took over. “fuck!”

chenle pulled off the boy's cock, just in time because the boy was shooting sticky cum from his cock almost immediately, he jerked the boy off pulling more cum from him. “fuck look at both of you.” chenle said, his voice a little sore. “so fucked up, im glad you two got what you wanted im still fucking hard.”

jisung pulled his fingers out of you, your orgasm dripping down his hand. “don’t let it go to waste, taste it.” chenle ordered, jisung brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping his lips around. “taste like fucking candy doesn’t she?” he hummed. “next time you can taste it straight from the source.” chenle said. “right now i need to fuck or be fucked by either one of you.”

“how about you both fuck me this time and then next time we switch?” this was the second time jisung had heard next time and he wasn’t mad at it — he doesn’t think he’d be able to fuck anyone after this experience again. “of course you say that always ready to be fucked.” chenle scoffed. “ji lay down and you in his lap then, you wanna be fuck by both of us? fine.” chenle slapped your ass watching you climb on top of the boy. “look how wet you made her ji, fucking dripping on your cock.”

chenle wrapped his hand around jisungs cock once again, holding it as you sunk down on it. “oh fuck.” jisung let out a whimper like moan. “shes fucking tight ain’t she?” jisung nodded. “so-so fucking tight.” you moaned out feeling chenles finger enter your hole. “about to stretch this pussy past her limits.” he groaned, stroking his cock. “show jisung how good this messy cunt is.”

he removed his finger, replacing it with his cock. “chenle!” you screamed, feeling him pushing his cock inside you. “shit.” jisung moved, feeling his friend's cock brushing against his, both of them trapped together in the wonder that is your cunt, squeezing them like a vice. “my god this feels good.” you moaned, moving your hips yourself. “look at you, so impatient -fuck- such a damn slut.”

he slapped your ass; watching it recoil. “re-really putting on a show for our boy here aren’t you.” you smiled down at the younger boy moaning. “fu-fuck yeah, how will i get him stay.”

jisung moaned, hearing you boy talk about him like that. “yeah that’s your -fuck- that’s your goal, fucking him so good he stays?” you nodded, chenle grabbed your hips. “well then let me help put in some work, give him an even better reason.” he began to speed up, jisung hips bucked unintentionally , the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock, paired with his friend's cock rubbing against his. “sh-shit i love this so much.” jisung groaned. “so fucking much.”

the room was smoldering hot; sweat dripping down from each of you, your skin slapping against each other — all three of you moaning. you were the first one to cum , your body shaking as you came with a loud porn like scream. “shit.” chenle moaned our feeling your cunt convulse around him. “fuck im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside you.” he moaned, cock twitch as spurts of white shot inside you.

jisung was last to cum, you held his face in your hand. “im gonna cum.” he said. “i-i need to pull out.” he groaned. “no don't, please don't pull out.” jisung looked to chenle , who was still inside you. “fu-fuck you heard her, she wants to be used as a cum dump, then do what she wants…” chenle said. “cum inside her.”

that’s all jisung needed before he was cumming. “oh fuck!” he moaned, cumming. your eyes were fucked out as you laid against the boys chest. “we fucked her dumb ji , she gets real mushy afterwards.” chenle pulled out, watching the cum spill from your cunt. “sh-shut up.”

“get up.” chenle playfully slapped your ass. “chenle stop.” jisung found a small bit of comfort in how playful you two were afterwards, it wasn’t awkward at all. “jisung just twitched inside me.” you teased the younger boy. “did seeing him do that make you feel something?” his face turned an even deeper red. “you’re gonna have to stop being so timid if you want to continue this.” chenle said.

“this?” he said, he never thought it would go further than maybe once or twice — three times if he prayed hard enough. “you think i would’ve put your cock in my mouth if i didn’t plan on having you do the same to me eventually?” you chuckled seeing the boy's face. “chenle you have to lean slowly into that , not everyone likes giving head.”

“ji ji , let’s go shower.” you stood up, holding your hand out. “you want to shower with me?” you nodded. “chenle hates showering with me.” the older boy rolled his eyes. “because you keep the water temperature at hell, so no i don’t like seeing my skin steaming as it cooks me from the inside.” he grumbled. “both of you go shower and i’ll change the sheets , and order some food.”

jisung took your hand and you guided him to the bathroom. “come.” you called him over once you reached the bathroom. “if you can be quiet then i’ll show that chenle is just being a dick when he said i can’t give head , i just like to withhold it from him to piss him off.” jisung felt like he was in heaven.

chenle on the other hand was still grumbling as he fixed the bedsheets. “this is crazy.” he said to himself. “I found two people who hate giving head , but love getting head.”

he still couldn’t help but smile though…

©️LUVYENI

[zerocoded]

summary: caleb wants to confess to you on his knees and a 70-year-old lady becomes your biggest nightmare.

authors note: pls take a look at the warnings for a safe reading ♡ y'all are freakier than me and I LOVE IT, so here is the continuation of this post i made, if you haven't read it, go and tell me what you think about! also check the talented artist who made this drawing that i'm using as a banner, credits to her ♡ this thing was supposed to be 6k words max but i think i got a little too much into EVERYTHING so i'm sorry if this sucks. still, i wish you guys a nice reading!

warnings: MAJOR LORE GUESS, THIS IS MY THEORY OF HOW THINGS WILL PLAY OUT DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY • gaslighting and manipulation • SLIGHT yandere!caleb • possessive!caleb • isolation but just a little • minor injury • psychological distress • themes of wars and weaponization • we talk a little about our trauma • ptsd symptoms • negative talks about ourselves (booh) • caleb custom makes an uniform specially for us • hints at psychological torture • once again, ANGST BABES because these two really like to bicker with each other • sfw content but HEAVILY SUGGESTIVE, just nothing graphic

word count: 11.6k (pls let's not talk about it)

THIS IS THE PART TWO, you can read the first chapter below:

the first time you see caleb after the incident┃ you're here┃you punch caleb in the face┃caleb teaches you his love language

skyhaven, powered by a protocore, stood as a beacon of innovation—a home to cutting-edge research centers and advanced tech organizations. when you were younger, the suspended island above linkon city had been a dream, a place of endless possibility and freedom. now, standing here, you couldn’t shake the irony: the very place you once longed to visit now felt like a gilded cage.

your journey here has unsettled you, planting a persistent seed of doubt. was this truly what you wanted? leaving behind the familiar comforts of your apartment to follow caleb to this towering, enigmatic place—was it the right choice? did that moment—the feeling of his lips on yours—truly change anything between you? did he think about it as often as you did?

the initial shock and disbelief of reuniting with caleb, after weeks spent mourning him, had begun to settle by your second night in skyhaven. the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him alive—relief, confusion, and a flicker of anger—faded into a dull hum as reality set in. as the day dragged on, with caleb strictly advising you not to leave his sleeping quarters’ floor, you found yourself with plenty of time to adjust to the strange circumstances you now found yourself in.

your first day here had passed quietly, an uneasy stillness settling over you. you hadn’t yet met any of caleb’s colleagues. the only glimpse you’d gotten of them was when you both arrived, their initial looks of curiosity quickly extinguished by caleb’s commanding presence. whatever questions they had, they didn’t dare voice them. his authority was absolute, and for now, it shielded you from the world beyond his floor—but it also left you feeling isolated, a stranger in this new environment.

the second day started and ended much like the first—confined to his bedchambers, with nothing but your thoughts and the ever-changing view from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows in his room. you spent hours there, caught in a trance as the sky shifted through an endless palette of colors, clouds forming and dissolving in shapes that seemed just as fleeting as your grip on this new reality.

caleb’s presence was everywhere and that made you a little dizzy. his scent lingered in the shirts he had lent you, in the bed sheets that cradled you at night, a warm mix of leather, musk, and something distinctly his own. his quarters, though rarely used given how much of his time was consumed by work, were unmistakably a reflection of him.

the room was awash in muted greys, from the smooth metallic walls to the minimalist furniture that prioritized function over form. cabinets lined one side, adorned with badges from past missions—quiet tokens of his history, his sacrifices, and his triumphs. their arrangement felt almost random, yet carried a subtle, unspoken order.

his bed, though crisply made, was an island of softness in the otherwise sharp-edged decor. a worn leather jacket hung by the door, its scuffed edges a contrast to the polished surface of his boots, lined perfectly beneath. on the desk in the corner, a stack of reports waited alongside a notebook with frayed edges, a relic of a more personal side of him he rarely let anyone see.

when reality came crashing down, you realized that you felt no different than when you were a little kid—admiring the boy of your dreams from a distance, your heart caught between hope and the quiet certainty that this dream was just that: a dream. the same ache lingered, a mixture of longing and doubt. you felt closer to that dream every time you caught caleb staring at you when he thought you were distracted.

speaking of ache, the injury you’d sustained a few days earlier during one of your missions was still fresh in your memory. the medic team at the farspace fleet had tended to it with precision, and that counted as the second time you’d interacted with anyone here. you hadn’t meant to let it slip during your journey that your ribs were swollen from an accident at work, but caleb had noticed—and he wasn’t about to let you brush it off.

when you tried to wave away his concerns, insisting you just needed rest, he didn’t take it lightly. his worry for you came out in an unusual way—firm, commanding, and impossible to ignore. he barked orders at the medic team with an authority that left no room for argument, his voice sharp and unwavering. watching him threaten them to ensure you received the best care, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t just acting as a colonel—he was someone who cared deeply for you. 

as the clock marked the start of your third day as caleb’s reluctant guest, you rose from his bed, the routine as monotonous as the view outside. you slipped into fresh clothes—despite having no prospect of seeing anyone besides caleb—and began your habitual ritual of tidying up his space, a quiet attempt to pass the time and bring a sliver of normalcy to the strange circumstances.

you were certain the colonel wouldn’t mind if you spent the day lounging in his shirt—it wasn’t like he’d complain—but there was something about maintaining a semblance of decency that felt necessary. maybe it was your way of reminding yourself that you and caleb weren’t pre-teenagers cuddling in granny’s sofa like you used to anymore, now you were both adults.

caleb’s presence in the room was fleeting, almost ghostlike. you always fell asleep before he returned and woke to find the bed cold and empty, his absence a constant companion. and yet, in the stillness of the night, there were moments—fleeting, but undeniable—when you stirred just enough to feel him. his arm would circle your waist, his breath soft against your hair. it was never long enough to fully wake, but just enough to remind you that he was there, in his own quiet, guarded way.

and there it goes your attempt at decency once again.

you’d joked once about how he was keeping you hostage, trying to lighten the mood of your strange arrangement. caleb had smirked at your remark, that faint, knowing curve of his lips that you used to know what it meant but couldn’t pinpoint it anymore. “be patient”, he’d teased, throwing out that stupid nickname he’d decided to saddle you with since kids. then, with his usual abruptness, he’d turned to leave, disappearing for yet another task that demanded his attention.

you caught yourself daydreaming about kicking his ass more times than you wanted to admit, but refrained from it because of the little consideration you had for the man. caleb had always been more than a mere presence in your life. growing up, he had been both a confidant and the object of an innocent, unspoken infatuation. 

back at school, you remembered the way your classmates would fawn over him after the whole chronorift thing happened, their voices tinged with admiration and awe. it had stirred a quiet possessiveness in you that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now—until two nights ago, when he brought you to the farspace fleet. the way the other daa soldiers regarded him, with a mixture of respect and fear, reminded you of those little girls in school, seeing him as someone out of reach. 

the sound of your footsteps echoed faintly in the silence of caleb’s quarters as you paced, restless energy building with nowhere to go. the midday light filtering through the observation deck window cast long shadows, shifting subtly as the minutes dragged into hours. you’d spent the morning turning over every piece of information caleb had given you—trying to make sense of his cryptic remarks.

you had thought about confronting him more than once, but every time you pictured his sharp gaze and those carefully chosen, guarded responses, you stopped yourself. caleb didn’t share things easily like he used to, and if he was keeping you in the dark now, there had to be a reason. but patience had never been your strong suit, and the isolation of the past three days only made your doubts heavier, pressing against your thoughts like an unshakable weight.

as the door to his quarters hissed open, your heart jumped, the sound breaking the stillness like a gunshot. caleb stepped inside, his movements precise, his expression unreadable. his uniform was slightly rumpled, the dark fabric clinging to his frame, and a faint sheen of sweat on his brow suggested whatever task he’d been called to wasn’t as simple as he might claim.

“you’re still up here,” he observed, his tone neutral but his gaze flicking over you briefly before settling on the desk where he’d left a stack of reports.

“where else would i be?” you replied, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “you made it pretty clear this is my designated prison cell.”

his lips quirked into that familiar smirk. “if this is a prison, i’d say you’ve got the best cell in the fleet.”

you rolled your eyes at his response, folding your arms across your chest. “sure, best cell in the fleet,” you muttered, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “it’s not like i have much to compare it to.”

caleb chuckled softly, his smirk lingering as he moved toward the desk, casually thumbing through the stack of reports. “you’ve got a knack for making everything sound like an ordeal,” he said, glancing at your choice of clothes for the day—it wasn’t anything crazy, just some jeans and a black compression shirt. caleb didn’t gave you time to actually pack your stuff, of course. “but you’ll want to save your complaints for later. something tells me you’re about to get more to gripe about.”

before you could ask what he meant, the door hissed open again, and a small team of people entered, their arrival so abrupt it left you momentarily stunned. they carried garment bags and cases, moving efficiently under caleb’s orders. he turned to you, his expression unreadable but his tone calm and firm.

“go with them,” he said simply. “they’ll help you get ready.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “ready for what?”

“it’s time for you to get out of here,” he said, his tone firm yet measured. “you need to meet some people. there’s an interrogation set up, and they’re going to need answers—everything you know about onychinus, the aether core, and ever. try to dig up whatever you can remember about your time in the lab,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “that should keep them satisfied, princess.”

your body tensed at the mention of onychinus. it was a name you didn’t expect to hear here, of all places, and the weight of it hit you like a blow to the chest. your gaze snapped to caleb, your mind already racing. how much did he know? how much had he told them?

“onychinus?” you repeated, your voice sharper than you intended. “how do they even know about that?”

did they know about sylus?

caleb’s expression remained unreadable, his amethystine eyes cool and steady, but there was a flicker of something he wasn’t saying. “this isn’t just about you anymore,” he replied simply. “they need answers. so do i.”

“and the lab?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? i don’t know shit about that place, caleb. i already told you. it’s hard enough to believe i’m some kind of fucking experiment.”

he sighed heavily, the sound more resigned than exasperated. “we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice steady but with a tinge of weariness, as if the conversation had played out in his head a hundred times already.

“no,” you shot back, stepping closer, your voice trembling with emotion. “you talked about this. you told me we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other. you told me about your time before the chronorift and granny josephine.” your voice faltered for a moment, your breath hitching. “and i told you, caleb, i don’t remember any procedures being done without my consent. even after the chronorift tragedy. you should stop fretting me about this.”

“you don’t remember,” he said quietly, his amethystine eyes holding yours with a steady intensity. “that’s fine. i didn’t either, at first.” he paused, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he continued. “but i hope we can talk about this again later, when you finally do remember.”

his voice dropped lower. “trust me,” he said, the words heavy with meaning. “you’re going to want me by your side when that happens.”

you narrowed your eyes, your tone turning accusatory. “and what about you? are they interrogating you too, or is this just about me?”

he tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint smirk that was equal parts infuriating and captivating. “i was the one who asked for your interrogation,” he said, his voice calm, almost casual, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“what do you mean, you asked?” you demanded, stepping closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. the sheer size of him, amplified by the sharp lines of his uniform, made him feel larger than life. the dark fabric clung to his frame, accentuating his out worldly height.

his perfume was also divine.

“i need to make sure you’re telling the truth,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. the words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in concern. his bionic arm rested at his side, the faint hum of its servos almost lost in the tension between you.

your breath hitched, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “you don’t trust me,” you said, your voice quieter now, though no less sharp. “after the stunt you pulled at granny’s house, i should be the one not to trust you”.

his gaze softened, just for a moment, but then his expression hardened again, the familiar steel returning to his eyes. “this isn’t about trust,” he said, his voice low and steady. “it’s about knowing what we’re up against. i can’t afford to take chances—not with you, not with anyone.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your fists clenching at your sides. “you’re not the caleb i remember,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. the sharp lines of his uniform, the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you—it was almost too much. “i’m not,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “that boy’s gone. at least the part of him that had to change so i could protect you right now. and if you can’t handle that—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly. “just forget it.”

the tension between you crackled like static, the air too heavy to breathe. finally, he exhaled, the sound more controlled than the storm in his eyes. “after the interrogation,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction, “you’ll be free to move around skyhaven. no more confinement.”

you didn’t respond, your throat tight with words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. as if sensing the shift, caleb straightened, his imposing figure softening just slightly as he stepped closer. his expression shifted to something quieter, almost tender.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, comforting tone he used when he wanted you to listen. his flesh hand gently cradled your cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding you, even as you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “you know you can trust me, right? pipsqueak?”

the nickname caught you off guard, tugging at something familiar, something from a time when things felt simpler. you blinked, unsure whether to be annoyed or comforted by the teasing lilt in his voice. “don’t call me that,” you muttered, though your heart wasn’t in it. 

you blinked hard, feeling the sting of unshed tears threatening to spill over. your chest tightened as the emotions you’d been trying to bury the last two days clawed their way to the surface. his thumb brushed against your cheek, a quiet, unspoken reassurance.

“look at me,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. when you didn’t, he leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. 

the warmth in his eyes didn’t fade. “stop acting like you don’t trust me,” he said, the teasing edge softening into something more serious. “i know this isn’t easy for you. hell, it’s not easy for me either. but i need you to believe me when i say i’m doing this for us—for you.”

“for me?” you repeated, your voice laced with annoyance as you crossed your arms. “you shouldn’t keep me in the dark like this, caleb. i don’t like it.”

his expression faltered for just a second, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before he straightened again, his bionic arm twitching faintly at his side. “it’s not that i don’t trust you,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh. “it’s that i need to protect you. and sometimes… that means making decisions you’re not going to like.”

you swallowed hard, his words settling heavily in your chest. he reached out then, his human hand brushing lightly against your arm, grounding you with a touch that was more deliberate than casual.

“you know me,” he whispered in your ear, leaning in slightly, his voice so quiet it was almost a secret. “you know i’d never let anything happen to you. you’re the only one i’ve ever been able to count on. don’t forget that, okay?”

after that, caleb took a step away from you, nodding to the team waiting by the door.

“get her ready,” he ordered, his voice carrying that same commanding edge that left no room for argument.

the team ushered you into a side room, where they worked quickly and efficiently to help you change. the uniform they presented was a masterpiece—sleek and custom-fitted, clearly designed to match the style of caleb’s but with details tailored to you. the base was a deep charcoal grey, nearly black, with white, red and gold piping along the seams and shoulders that shimmered faintly in the light. the high collar hugged your neck, its edges trimmed with subtle leather lines.

the fabric was sturdy yet flexible, designed for both movement and protection, while still accentuating your figure with precision. the insignia on the chest was a smaller, more refined version of the fleet’s emblem, embossed in gold. the sleeves bore intricate embroidery that hinted at your stats as a companion, adding a touch of elegance to the otherwise utilitarian design. the boots were polished to perfection, completing the look with a sense of authority and efficiency.

the team handed you the final piece of the uniform—a sleek military-style hat reminiscent of a pilot’s, crafted with the same precision and detail as the rest of the attire. its charcoal-grey base was accented with a polished silver insignia of the fleet, the mark of the deepspace aviation administration that gleamed in the light. 

the room buzzed with quiet efficiency as the staff worked around you, their movements quick but deliberate. the space itself was bright and sterile, with sleek metallic walls that reflected the soft hum of machinery. the air carried a faint smell of ozone and disinfectant, underscoring the precision of the environment. each member of the team seemed hyper-focused on their tasks—adjusting a seam here, brushing away an invisible speck of lint there—all while maintaining a level of deference that left you slightly uneasy.

their respect toward you wasn’t forced, but it felt oddly out of place, as if it was more a reflection of caleb’s authority than anything you’d earned. you caught snippets of murmured conversation between them, their glances respectful yet curious, as though they were trying to piece together who you were and why caleb had ordered such meticulous preparation for you.

when they finished, you stepped out into the hall where caleb was waiting. he stood with his back to you, his broad shoulders filling the space, his bionic arm resting at his side. 

for a split second you imagined yourself kicking his ass once again and making him fall face first on the floor for the way he’d been avoiding you the last two days. but then you remembered where you were and what you were doing here.

you’re not lying when saying you had spent a few seconds just glancing at his back without his notice. the sharp lines of his uniform only emphasized the commanding presence he carried, making him look every bit the colonel he was. the moment he felt your presence, he turned, his amethyst eyes locking onto you.

for a moment, caleb didn’t say anything. his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, taking in every detail of the uniform. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something deeper—pride, maybe, or something more possessive.

“it fits,” he said finally, his voice low and steady, 

“barely,” you replied, attempting to lighten the moment, though the intensity of his stare made your voice falter.

he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. “no,” he said, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “it fits perfectly.”

his eyes swept over you again, lingering just a fraction too long to be casual. “actually,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “it does more than fit. you look…” he paused, tilting his head slightly as if searching for the right word, though the gleam in his eyes told you he already knew. “exceptional.”

you felt heat rise to your cheeks, his compliment catching you off guard. “exceptional?” you echoed, attempting to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight waver. “didn’t think you were the type to throw around fancy words like that, colonel.”

his smirk deepened, the teasing edge in his gaze making your pulse quicken. “i don’t throw them around,” he said smoothly. “only when they’re deserved.”

the way he looked at you made your breath hitch, the weight of his presence making the space between you feel charged. “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the insignia on your chest.

“i did,” he replied simply, his voice dropping even lower. “you’re with me now. they need to see that.” his gaze softened just enough to let a flicker of vulnerability show before it disappeared. “are you ready?”

no, i’m not, you wanted to say, but you doubted your insecurity would make a difference here. you were a hunter on a mission right now, and any false step could lead to your demise and caleb’s plan failing. you hoped he didn’t sense your nervousness, but something told you that you couldn’t hide anything from the man beside you. he always knew how to read you—this part of him resembled zayne a little, though you feared the comparison.

you walked side by side out of the sleeping quarters, your boots echoing softly against the polished floors. the corridor was a stark contrast to the warmth of caleb’s quarters—bright, sterile, and buzzing with activity. as soon as you stepped into view, every officer and soldier below caleb’s rank stopped their tasks, snapping to attention with a crisp salute. the air seemed to shift, charged with an unspoken reverence for the colonel.

the corridor led to an expansive atrium, its vaulted ceiling revealing the full grandeur of skyhaven. the deepspace aviation administration headquarters was a masterpiece of engineering, blending sleek modernity with a palpable sense of purpose. towering support structures arched gracefully overhead, made of an alloy that shimmered faintly under the artificial lighting. expansive observation windows lined the atrium walls, offering a breathtaking view of linkon city far below.

skyhaven itself was an artificial marvel, a massive floating island suspended by an intricate network of protocore technology and magnetic stabilizers. the island wasn’t just a hub for the military—it was a living ecosystem of cutting-edge science and aviation. beneath the steel and glass exterior, skyhaven buzzed with life, housing research centers, training facilities, and state-of-the-art hangars that extended far beyond the viewable limits.

as you glanced out one of the observation windows, a small sigh of relief escaped your lips. linkon city stretched far below, its familiar skyline bathed in the amber glow of the sun. despite everything—your doubts, your fears—there was something comforting about seeing the world from this vantage point. for a moment, you let yourself appreciate the surreal beauty of it, even as caleb’s brisk pace pulled you back into the present.

as you approached the center of the base, the architecture shifted subtly, becoming even more advanced. panels of polished black metal lined the walls, embedded with glowing data streams that flickered in shades of blue and green. interactive holographic displays projected tactical maps, fleet status reports, and complex equations, their light casting faint patterns across the gleaming floor.

caleb led you through a security checkpoint, where biometric scanners and advanced surveillance systems verified your presence. the guards at the station snapped to attention at his approach, their expressions taut with respect. beyond the checkpoint, the central operations hub opened up—a sprawling room filled with tiered workstations and holo-screens that hovered mid-air.

in the heart of the hub stood a group that was unmistakably different. clad in black tactical uniforms, their gear adorned with the subtle insignia of ever, this was the special force. they didn’t salute caleb as the others had; their deference was more subtle, marked by a slight inclination of their heads and a sharp, assessing glance in your direction.

you felt your blood boil as your gaze landed on the emblem stitched into their uniforms—the unmistakable insignia of ever. the sight of it twisted your stomach, bringing back every sleepless night, every unanswered question that had haunted you since josephine’s death. zayne’s reluctant handoff of those cryptic documents had started it all, but it was the whispers of ever that had lingered at the edges of your stay at the N109 zone and your time at the nest that really troubled you.

and now, here they were, not just a name on a paper or a faint memory on onychinus’ air, but living, breathing soldiers standing right in front of you. their presence was as real as the knot forming in your chest. 

one of them stepped forward, a woman with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. her voice was calm but firm. “colonel,” she said, her gaze briefly flicking to you. “the team is ready for the briefing. we’ve set up in conference room XO2.”

your gaze darted to caleb, who was speaking with the woman at the forefront of ever’s team. his tone was steady, his expression calm, but to you, it was infuriatingly unreadable. how could he be so composed? how could he stand there, shoulder to shoulder with the people who might have made you both into weapons? your mind raced with fragments of memory and half-formed theories.

caleb’s words echoed in your mind: “we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other.” it was a concept you’d rejected at first, clinging to the idea that you were still whole, just a hunter with a weird heart. but the cracks had started to show. the unnatural resilience, the strange flashes of memory that felt both foreign and familiar, the way caleb’s presence had always felt like a tether. had josephine known? had she always known what you were? was that why she left you those documents, why she’d placed zayne in your path? 

as you walked toward the mentioned room, the sound of your boots echoed faintly in the metallic corridor, mingling with the synchronized footsteps of the armed guards flanking you. their presence was suffocating, a living barricade of authority around you. their weapons were sleek and unrelenting.

the corridor opened up into a larger chamber, the entrance marked by a reinforced door flanked by additional guards. their posture was identical to the others, their faces emotionless masks as they stepped aside to let you pass. the door hissed open with a low, mechanical groan, revealing a room that was as starkly advanced as the rest of skyhaven.

as you waited for caleb to acknowledge you, suddenly all of the guards left, leaving only caleb, you and the lady in the room.

caleb gestured for you to take a seat, his voice low but firm. “sit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you hesitated for a fraction of a second, your gaze flicking to him before complying. the grey-haired woman took a seat across from you, her sharp eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

caleb remained standing, his hands resting on the back of the chair beside you. his presence was steady, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. he leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.

"do as you’re told and don’t cause any trouble," he whispered, his voice low and edged with an authority that sent a shiver down your spine. "you won’t get hurt, then."

your body stiffened at his words, your fists curling slightly against the cool surface of the table. despite the sharpness in his tone, there was an undercurrent of something else—something almost protective.

the grey-haired woman—you still didn’t know her name—exchanged a few words with caleb and then rose from her seat completely ignoring you. her heels clicked against the floor as she strode toward the door, her sharp gaze lingering on you for a moment before she exited. you caught the faintest glint of approval in her eyes as she passed. the door hissed shut behind her, leaving you and caleb alone in the room… or so it seemed. you glanced to the side, catching sight of the conference window. she was still there, standing with her arms crossed, her sharp silhouette illuminated by the sterile glow of the room beyond. a microphone sat near her hand, her presence palpable even in her absence.

"if you’re understanding the situation, then let’s go ahead and have a nice chat, right, pipsqueak?” caleb said, straightening and placing his hands on the table. “there’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room and it will be over before you know it". if he was trying to console you, he was doing a terrible job.

the investigation started with stupid questions like what was your name, age and evol. questions about the chronorift catastrophe resurfaced and time dragged slow by the time caleb got to the more important questions. your patience were running thin, asking yourself why was the need of all this bullshit if they wouldn’t explain things to you at the end of the day.

caleb’s monotone tone annoyed you more than anything, but the eyes observing you in this room stopped you from starting a childish banter with the colonel. speaking of eyes, the grey-haired-scary woman kept hers on you the whole time. you could feel her obsession over this ever entity all the way from fucking linkon city. you hated it.

as time passed by, you started to grow restless when he got to ask the questions about granny. it was infuriating the way he was speaking like he wasn’t there the whole time—like he wasn’t the other child that josephine took under her wing. 

your anger faltered when caleb reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of papers. the documents slid across the table with a deliberate motion, their edges crisp and yellowed with age. the faint scent of old paper mixed with the sterile tang of the room. “these,” he said, tapping the top of the stack with two fingers, “are her personnel files from ever.”

his words hit like a punch to the gut. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. the room seemed to tilt, and you gripped the edge of the chair to steady yourself.

“what?”, your throat was hoarse from answering all of the stupid questions previously, leaving you with a sense of laziness.

“this is what we were capable of gathering from the ever base, turns out they didn’t questioned why we needed it at all”. his words hung in the air as if taunting you.

“what are you on about, caleb?” the words escaped your lips, hollow and trembling. the honorifics were gone now, discarded the second his eyes shifted toward the grey-haired woman observing from the other room. 

“would you at least look at it first?”, his annoyed tone made your blood boil.

“not if you’re going to keep playing me, this is not funny.” even after you said that, his lips quirked into a milimetrical smirk.

“i’m not asking you to jump from the observation deck, pipsqueak, i’m asking you to read our granny’s documents”.

you wanted to laugh—this was absurd. it had to be.

“i don’t have a reason to lie to you, do i?” he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. that infuriating tone of his—it made you want to reach across the table and slap the smugness off his face. how dare he accuse the woman who had raised you, who had raised both of you, of being involved in something as insidious as this entity?

“shut up and stop running in circles!” you shoved the chair back as you stood, the legs screeching against the floor. you leaned forward, eyes locked on his with a fire that demanded answers. “is this a game to you? did i come all the way from linkon city for nothing? you said you would help me.”

“and i am helping you.” caleb’s reply was calm, as if he weren’t phased by your outburst. “this is the truth, princess.”

princess. there it was again—that nickname, so casual and so utterly out of place in a room filled with cold, calculated tension. did no one else find it strange that the colonel of the daa was speaking to you like this? a glance at the observation window confirmed that the grey-haired woman hadn’t moved an inch. her gaze remained fixed, expression unreadable.

what had caleb told her about you? about this? and why in god’s name had you agreed to any of it in the first place?

“Y/N.” his voice snapped through the air, sharp and commanding. he saw the way your legs shifted toward the door, the way your hands twitched with the urge to leave. before you could move, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. the contact wasn’t rough, but the authority in his grip held you in place. his eyes met yours, and for a second, you froze under the weight of that gaze. it was as if the word “behave” was scrawled across his face, an order you couldn’t defy.

why did he need you to believe in things that felt so unexplainable? what was he trying so hard to convince you?

“she was recruited at thirty-one,” caleb continued, as if you weren’t about to leave this place for good instants ago. “straight out of her postdoctoral research in applied quantum mechanics and energy manipulation. she was already making waves in the scientific community, so ever snapped her up for their advanced energy division.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about”. you defended, freeing your hand from his grip and crossing your arms with anger.

“have you never asked yourself why granny didn’t move houses?”, his eyes were fixed on you, the moment charged with unexplained betrayal. still, he didn’t stop there. “she hated that neighborhood and always complained about the kids leaving trash on the sidewalks. still, she never moved. have you never thought about how she was always alone, didn’t had friends, no one visited? how she was able to afford your college? she never spoke about having children and her family never called.”

the rage that had fueled you moments ago was now dulled by confusion. the image of her—your grandmother, your rock—shifted in your mind, colliding with the version caleb was painting. a version you couldn’t reconcile with the woman who used to hum lullabies while baking or press a kiss to your forehead after long days.

but the conviction in caleb’s tone was undeniable, and the papers lying between you were a damning testament to something you weren’t ready to face.

hesitant, you reached for the documents, your fingers trembling. the top page bore a formal header: EVER CORPORATION - PERSONNEL DOSSIER: DR. JOSEPHINE. below it, a photograph of your grandmother stared back at you, her sharp features framed by neatly pinned hair and a lab coat adorned with various badges of rank.

you scanned the documents, words like chief research officer and project architect leaping out at you. “she was the head scientist?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

fucking hell. this was impossible.

“not just head scientist,” caleb said. “she was promoted to director of advanced energy systems by thirty-five. she oversaw the development of key protocore technologies before spearheading project aether. these reports,” he gestured to the papers, “detail her work in bioenergetics, quantum harmonics, and adaptive energy matrices. she didn’t just design the aether core—she built the framework that made it possible.”

he made a pause to glance at you. you felt his eyes on you, heavy with meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop reading the details in front of you. every line on the page chipped away at the foundation of what you thought you knew.

“i know this because we used to work together.” the words sliced through the sterile air, shattering the fragile barrier between your disbelief and the truth he was forcing on you. there it was again—an unexplainable revelation that felt shattering and wrong.

what was that again?

your hands froze, trembling slightly as the paper slipped from your grasp. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded into nothing. the hat was off his head now, his fluffy hair slightly mussed as if this moment required something more personal, more vulnerable. it didn’t match the clinical coldness of the room or the gaze of the grey-haired woman observing from the corner. it felt intimate, despite the invasive presence lurking just behind the glass.

“what is that supposed to mean?”, your heart was beating like crazy, you could feel the vibrations thrumming through your ears. “i don’t… i don’t believe you”.

“she recruited me to take care of you.” his voice was quieter now, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something raw in his expression. empathy, maybe. or guilt. it was enough to make him look away, his gaze dropping to the papers spread between you. “as an experiment.”

his words hung in the air like a loaded weapon. the tingling sensation that ran down your spine turned into a full-body shiver. your breath hitched, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. your throat tightened as the weight of what he was saying settled in, suffocating and relentless.

“impossible. granny wasn’t a woman on a mission, she was…”, you gulped, “she was intelligent and kind.”

the room spinned, your breath hitched. again, the situation was sadly laughable. were those times you dreamed about blood, about a life that didn’t seem to belong to you all real? were they fragments of your memory? weren’t they just coincidences?

gods, how were you so stupid? how did you never think about this?

“was all of this ever all along?” you muttered, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. the room felt too small, the air too stifling. your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and for a fleeting moment, you wanted to punch something, anything. it felt childish, but the frustration boiling in your chest demanded release.

“why would she hide this?” your voice cracked as you spoke, trembling with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “why wouldn’t she tell me?”

you didn’t see a reason to keep this from you. from your life. would you even know about this if you never blindly agreed to show your face in the nest that day? how could something so enormous not make itself accidentally aware throughout one’s whole life?

and how could you be so stupidly blind? what were you, a child?

caleb’s gaze softened slightly. “because she knew what ever would do if they thought you were a threat at that time. she hid the truth to protect you, but in doing so, she left you vulnerable. and now, we’re all paying the price.”

“protecting me?” you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief. “how is lying to me, hiding everything, supposed to protect me? she left me completely blind!”

you were so angry. angry at yourself, angry at the woman who raised you, angry at caleb for not telling you, angry even at fucking zayne for handling you those documents from you. he probably also had secrets about your heart’s condition that he never talked about.

how could anyone possibly hide something like this from you? weren’t they your friends?

how did betrayal felt so bitter and deserving at the same time?

“you were a kid, Y/N,” caleb said, his voice calm but laced with an edge of frustration, as though he were trying to reason with a storm.

“so were you!” you snapped, the words sharp and cutting. the knot of anger and betrayal in your chest tightened, spreading like fire through your veins. “you never… did you never think about how i would feel? god, caleb.”

caleb leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers interlocking as he spoke. “she left you blind because she knew they were watching. she couldn’t risk them finding out how much she cared about you, how far she was willing to go to shield you. the second they saw you as a threat—or as leverage—everything she’d done would have been for nothing.”

his words settled over you like a heavy fog, dense and suffocating. you wanted to reject them, to push back against the idea that your grandmother—the woman who had been your everything—had willingly kept you in the dark about a past so entwined with danger. 

“did she fucking planned her death as well? did she know about the explosion that day?”. you were practically raging now, venom laced with hurt spitting from your mouth as your body leaned over the table, trying to make caleb snap you back into reality. why was he telling you all of these nonsense?

“she asked me to end her the moment she posed a threat to you. she didn’t know about the explosion, i didn’t tell her.” his low tone showed a masked hurt that almost offended you.

oh, you were so pissed.

“so, what?” you said. “she let them turn me into this… thing? this experiment? and then she just… left?”

“she didn’t just leave. she stayed in their system as long as she could, long enough to set things in motion for you to have a chance of surviving. she made choices that no one should ever have to make, and she paid for them.” your eyes watered and your chest tightened. 

“do i really have a chance?” you asked, your voice trembling as you pointed toward the grey-haired woman standing beyond the glass. “isn’t she from ever? what are you doing with these people, caleb? heavens, i can’t even understand you anymore.”

his face didn’t change immediately, but his shoulders seemed to tense, the weight of your words pressing down on him. when he spoke, his voice was low, steady. “josephine told me everything,” he began, his gaze dropping to the table for just a moment. “right after i turned old enough to understand what it all meant. she didn’t just tell me—she made me promise.”

“promise what?!” your voice cracked, and the anger that had been simmering inside you surged again, fueled by the sharp sting of treachery.

“to protect you,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, as though each one was a confession. “she used me, Y/N. she knew what was going to happen. she knew what they’d try to do to you, what they’d use you for. and she… she made me a part of her plan.”

“her plan?” you echoed, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air. “what plan, caleb? because from where i’m standing, all i see is a mess she left for me to clean up.”

his jaw tightened, and he finally looked back at you, his amethyst eyes sharp but filled with something raw and unspoken. “it wasn’t just her plan. it became mine too. i let her use me, Y/N, because i thought—i hoped—it would mean you’d never have to deal with this. i thought i could handle it for both of us.”

“and what?” you snapped, leaning forward as your frustration boiled over. “you just decided for me? you and her both?”

“i didn’t decide for you,” he shot back, his voice rising for the first time, though his control quickly reined it in. “i decided to protect you. there’s a difference.”

“why would you do that?” you asked, your voice quieter now but no less cutting. “because it feels like all both of you did was trap me in this endless nightmare.”

caleb’s patience snapped. you saw the moment it happened—something dark flickered behind his eyes, replacing the calm exterior he’d been holding onto. without warning, he rose from his chair, the scrape of metal against the floor echoing through the room. before you could react, his hands slammed down on the table on either side of you, caging you in with his sheer presence.

he leaned over you, his frame engulfing yours entirely. his proximity forced you backward, the cool surface of the table pressing against your spine as you arched slightly to meet his gaze. the shift in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine—not fear, but something far more complicated. his presence was suffocating, his intensity overwhelming, and yet you couldn’t look away.

if anyone entered the room now, they wouldn’t even know you were there, hidden entirely behind his broad frame. he was close—too close—and every inch of him radiated authority and tension. 

you still felt anger pulse inside you. even with his figure towering over you, you stared right back into his eyes, daring him to explain. but caleb wasn’t waiting for your permission to speak—his words spilled out, sharp and unrelenting, as though he’d been holding them in for far too long.

“you can scream all you want, princess,” he began, his voice dangerously low but cutting, “but i’m not letting you blame the woman who gave me the chance of loving you for something she regretted every day of her life until the day she died.” his eyes burned into yours, daring you to interrupt, but you stayed silent, your breath caught in your throat.

“she designed the aether core,” he continued, the words bitter, as if they left a bad taste in his mouth, “but she didn’t know it was going to be put in a fucking child. she told me that. she swore it to me.” his voice cracked slightly, a rare vulnerability slipping through before he pressed on.

“she would never partake in something so inhuman and cruel if she’d known about it,” he said, his tone hardening again. “when she realized what they were doing—what you were—she made a choice. she could’ve run and left us behind, but she didn’t do that.” his gaze softened for a brief moment before his jaw tightened. “she took us with her.”

his next words struck you like a blow. “ever knew the potential the aether core had. so they created an antidote. me.”

the silence that followed was deafening, his confession hanging heavy in the air between you. your heart raced, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not yet. 

“before i even knew you, princess, our destinies were bound,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “we were never meant to be anything else—two halves of a cruel design, bound together by ruthless people driven by intense power.”

he leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. “when she told me everything, when i finally understood, i made a choice. i sacrificed myself to continue the fucking experiments ever wanted me to participate, so no one else in this world would have the capacity to destroy you other than me.” he straightened, his tone heavy with finality. “only me.”

you heard your own hiccup as if it were from somene else.

"kirsten was her colleague," caleb said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency. "she also left the project behind when things got heated. since then, they’ve been trying to capture you. she was the one who handed me these documents." he gestured toward the stack of papers, his gaze flicking briefly to the woman observing you from beyond the glass. "grandma trusted her."

your surprise was impossible to hide. your eyes darted to the woman, her stoic presence now layered with a significance you hadn’t grasped until this moment.

"we both are trying to find a way to protect you," caleb continued, his tone firm. "and infiltrating ever is the first step to do that. we need to gather as much information we can and gain their trust so we can take them down and their fucking crazy plan of interstellar domination."

oh fuck, they wanted the aether core for that?

he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "do you understand it now, pipsqueak?" his voice softened at the nickname, but the weight of his words lingered, pressing into the space between you.

the room seemed to shrink as the truth settled over you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and cold. your chest tightened, and before you realized it, tears began streaming down your face, silent but relentless. you hadn’t even noticed them falling until caleb stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache even more.

his hands cupped your cheeks, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your skin as he tried to wipe the tears away. 

“do you understand how i need you to live, princess?” caleb’s voice cracked, raw with emotion, tugging at strings in your heart you didn’t even realize were there. “i love you so much, you have no idea the limits i’d go to prove it to you.”

his words settled over you like a tempest, leaving you breathless and trembling. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, every syllable laced with unrelenting devotion and a darkness that both frightened and comforted you. you felt so dangerously cherished, as though his love could burn the world down if it meant keeping you safe.

the worst part? you could say you felt the same.

his grip on your face tightened, not painfully but with a firm desperation, his calloused thumbs brushing away the lingering wetness on your cheeks. his eyes softened as they held yours, the fierceness in them giving way to something almost pleading.

“if you want me to beg, i’ll fucking beg you, princess. if you want me on my knees, i’ll do it. just stay here with me where i can see you.” he whispered, his voice barely audible but impossibly steady, his tone dropped so low it was almost a growl, the sound vibrating through the air and sinking deep into your chest. his jaw tightened, the sharp angles of his face accentuated by the tension coiling in his body. 

why did his love felt so crushing?

his hands stayed on your face, grounding you, but his grip was firm, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. his eyes, dark and stormy, searched yours, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“why are you doing this to me?” you finally whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of his confession. “why do you care so much?” the question felt sacred, as if it wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud, but you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

his jaw tightened, his hands still cupping your face as his eyes locked onto yours. for a moment, he didn’t speak, as though the answer was too heavy, too raw to give voice to.

“did they hurt you, caleb?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “in those experiments?”

your clenched fists, tight with anger and frustration, slowly dissolved into something softer. the tension in your body ebbed away, leaving only the raw ache in your chest. before you could second-guess yourself, your hands moved on their own, rising to his face. your fingertips brushed against his jaw, tentative at first, before settling into a gentle caress.

“they can hurt me all they want,” caleb said, his voice low and raw, each word cutting through the air like a blade. “as long as they keep their distance from you, i’ll endure it. i’d end myself if it meant that you would never be hurt again.”

his gaze bore into yours, fierce and unrelenting, yet there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest ache. it wasn’t just desperation—it was devotion, the kind that threatened to drown you in its intensity.

“they can’t control my evol anymore, their plan of the antidote backfired” caleb said, his voice vulnerable as if only talking about that chamber already caused him agony. “that’s why they’re scared. the last neural control experiment—the zero gravity chamber was destroyed because the machines couldn’t handle it. they wanted to transform me into a robot, somehow my mind never cooperated”. his gaze averted to the emblem on your chest.

you swallowed hard, his words sinking into your brain like lead. “aren’t we a danger to each other, caleb?” you asked, your voice trembling, hiccups breaking through as tears streaked your face. you were scared. “am i capable of hurting you? do i… isn’t it dangerous if we stay together?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his gaze unwavering and intense. “if there’s anyone in this world i’d let hurt me, it’s you, princess,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead as he did when you were both kids. and then his tone shifted into something darker, almost obsessive. “i don’t fucking care what you do to me, you can hurt me all you want if that makes you fucking happy. don’t you understand?”

“don’t say that…” you murmured, trying to avert your gaze, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment and suffocation.

he smirked, a sharp, knowing curve of his lips as his thumb brushed another tear from your cheek. “i want to create a world where it’s just the two of us,” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper that sent shivers racing down your spine.

his bionic hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the unyielding strength of his hold making your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, so close his lips nearly brushed your ear. “just say the word, and i’ll do it,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending your mind spinning. “i’ll end everything. you know that.”

“caleb…” you murmured, your palms pressing gently against his chest, trying to create even the smallest bit of distance between you. “i thought you had gone crazy.” your voice trembled as you looked up at him, the weight of his intensity still bearing down on you. “i’m sorry you had to endure that… because of me.” your breaths came quickly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “i… i still think you’re crazy, though.”

a flicker of amusement crossed his face, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“but… what do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your thoughts spinning wildly. “do they know you brought me here?”.

“all of the personnel outside is from ever, they think i’m convincing you to willingly participate in the project. make you turn into some kind of sacrifice for humanity. bullshit.” just saying it out loud seemed painful for him, and hearing it sounded even more crazy.

“they wanted to start everything straight away, test the energy of the aether core inside of you before we could even talk. i convinced them to let me handle you, that’s why i can’t let you leave skyhaven for now.” he sounded almost guilty when saying those words, waiting patiently for your reaction so he could be deemed innocent.

“so i am your hostage, basically?”, something akin to amusement surged in your face, dried tears staining your rosy cheeks.

“that depends if you are willing to cooperate, just say the word and i’ll fly us across west coast immediately.” his gaze made you feel the most heartbroken and cherished woman in the world. cruel. “i don’t plan to stay here forever”.

“what about kirst—” your words stopped abruptly as realization struck you like a lightning bolt. your eyes widened as your breath hitched in your throat. “oh my fucking god, caleb, kirsten!”

panic surged through you, and you shoved him back with far more force than you intended, as if he were suddenly contagious. your cheeks burned hot as your gaze darted toward the observation room. you could feel every beat of your heart hammering against your ribs.

from where you stood, the glass gave an impeccable view of everything that had transpired. your stomach churned as you imagined what she might have seen, what conclusions she might have drawn. but as your eyes landed on the empty chair, your confusion deepened. kirsten wasn’t there.

“where… where did she go?” you stammered, your embarrassment morphing into unease. “wasn’t she just—she was right there!” you pointed toward the glass, your voice climbing an octave.

“jesus, when did you become so strong, pipsqueak?” caleb muttered, his tone equal parts stunned and impressed as he steadied himself. the few inches you’d managed to push him away seemed to amuse him more than anything else, his eyes glinting with an undeniable sense of pride.

“caleb, kirsten!” you exclaimed, pointing toward the observation room with wide, exasperated eyes. “did she see us? oh my god, she might think i’m a whore!”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “c’mon, pipsqueak, don’t push it,” he said, his voice calm and teasing as he stepped forward. “i bet she understands. we were made for each other, after all.” his tone turned deliberately corny, and you could feel your cheeks burning like they were on fire again.

“don’t say that!” you snapped, mortified, as he tried to close the gap you’d created between you. you quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him, your glare sharp. “don’t touch me, you perv!”

caleb smirked, his amusement only growing at your reaction. “are you seriously worried about an 70-year-old woman judging you right now?” he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief, “after the life or death situation we just discussed?”

“you can’t keep saying these things to a woman…” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you stubbornly ignored the look caleb was giving you. you kept the distance between you, maintaining the few inches of air.

“things? what things?” he teased, his tone light and playful, though his eyes held that familiar mischievous glint.

you groaned, feeling the heat creep back up your neck. “like… like you’re going to die for me! you asked for a custom-made uniform for me just like yours, do you know what this looks like for other people? and that thing you said about being on your knees? jesus…” you stammered, your words tangling over each other as your embarrassment grew. “you shouldn’t say those things in moments like this!”

caleb’s lips curved into a slow smirk, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “i want them to look at you and remember who you’re with,” he murmured. “do you want me to prove it?”

your eyes widened in horror as you saw him begin to shift, his knees bending slightly as though he were actually going to kneel in front of you.

“oh my god, caleb. get up! my god!” you hissed, your hands flying out to stop him before he could make good on his teasing. your gaze darted toward the window and the door, nerves prickling at the thought of someone walking in and witnessing this absurd scene.

caleb, meanwhile, was practically doubled over in laughter, clearly finding your panic far too amusing. “i’ll keep that in mind,” he said between chuckles, his tone teasing as ever. “you don’t like things in public, princess. noted.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snapped, your voice climbing a few octaves in your exasperation. your hands flew up to cover your face, both to hide your flaming cheeks and to block out the infuriating sight of his grin. “oh my god…”

caleb’s laughter only grew louder at your reaction, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “relax, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice still laced with amusement. “i’m just saying I’ll keep it private next time.”

next time? sweet heavens.

you glared at him, your cheeks burning hotter than ever. “you still haven’t told me your plan, it’s time we get out of here, they will start getting suspicious,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering embarrassment. 

“oh, don’t worry, baby. they know they’re dead if they interrupt us”.

despite his infuriating smirks and relentless teasing, you couldn’t deny the way caleb’s presence steadied something deep within you—a part of yourself that had always felt untethered, incomplete. there was a gravity to him—oh the irony of it all—, an unshakable certainty in his actions, even when everything else around you felt like chaos. the pieces of your past, fragmented and jagged, were beginning to fall into place. 

as you stared at his grin right now, you asked yourself if it would be the right time to confess your feelings for him since childhood. he knew you loved him, but you still wanted to say those three little words.

you hated how much you didn’t want to believe him, but there was no escaping the truth: caleb had always been there, weaving himself into the fabric of your life in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now. 

“i trust you, caleb. with my life.”

the words felt heavier than you’d anticipated, and for a moment, the air between you shifted. you watched as his expression changed, his playful smirk fading into something more serious. his gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the way your confession hit him, sharp and profound, like it was a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands.

but how could you not? how could you not trust the man when just being near him brought a peace that felt almost childlike—a fleeting memory of safety you hadn’t realized you’d lost? when every sacrifice he made screamed of a love so consuming it defied logic, a love that compelled him to climb through military ranks with a single-minded determination, as if his very existence depended on it? he spent his days training, his nights planning, and his rare moments of respite killing parts of himself, carving away his own humanity, all to try and make you feel whole.

your life had been in his hands from the very beginning, cradled by the will of a man whose obsession burned brighter than any protocore, whose evol bent not to power but to the unrelenting need to love you.

caleb’s love was a force of nature, raw and unyielding, and even if it frightened you, even if it left you reeling, you couldn’t deny the truth of it: it was the only constant in a world that had always sought to tear you apart.

caleb’s love made you shiver. and for some reason, you didn’t mind that at the moment.

“me and kirsten already have a plan,” he said finally, his voice quieter but laced with determination, glancing at the watch displayed in the hologram behind you. “i’ll tell you everything when we’re completely alone. i promise.”

honestly? right now you just wanted to kiss the man in front of you stupid and spill all your love on him. the love you have felt since your first time playing kitty cards with him and kissing each other’s cheeks as kids.

but you were quickly reminded of where you were when you glanced at the door and stared at the daa emblem painted on it. you felt like a wreck of emotions.

the change in scenery left you gasping for air as caleb slowly guided you out of the conference room. the ever personnel not even blinking as you and the colonel passed through them.

your eyes darted around, searching for something familiar, something real to ground you amidst the mess of revelations swimming in your mind. part of you hoped to see kirsten, her sharp eyes and scary aura a strange kind of reassurance in the chaos. but when the grey-haired woman was nowhere to be seen, a small, unexpected wave of relief washed over you.

maybe it was better this way. maybe you weren’t ready to face her yet—not after everything caleb had told you, not when the weight of your own memories, or lack thereof, felt like an anchor dragging you down.

you stared at linkon city sprawling below skyhaven, the glittering lights painting an intricate mosaic against the inky darkness of dawn. from the observation decks you walked over, the city looked almost surreal, a world that felt both achingly familiar and impossibly distant. something tugged at your chest—a dull ache of nostalgia—at the thought of your childhood home hidden somewhere within those shimmering lights.

the tech center that skyhaven was, with its seamless blend of towering glass structures and advanced machinery humming quietly around you, filled you with a strange sense of innocence. as though everything you’d endured until this day could be set aside as a different life of yours.

wasn’t this exactly what the core inside of you was? so powerful it could transcend planets, weaving its influence across time and space—capable of creating not just miracles but catastrophes?

weren't you a walking human weapon? haven't you always been one?

your thoughts were interrupted by caleb gesturing toward his room, his tone calm as he said he’d finish up and spend the rest of the day with you. you barely registered the words, too lost in the whirlwind of your mind to notice how the two of you had already made your way back to his quarters.

just as he turned to leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand instinctively. the touch froze him in place, his eyes immediately locking onto yours in his chambers. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. would it sound strange to admit you didn’t want to be alone? to confess that you were scared?

caleb stepped closer, his presence grounding you like a warm tether against the cold, sterile hallway outside his room. “you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice quiet, gentle. it wasn’t a question so much as an acknowledgment of the weight you carried. he grabbed your hand on his.

you nodded, your grip tightening slightly on his hand. “it’s just… too much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “to think something so small—something inside me—has the power to destroy so much. reshape worlds. ruin lives. it fucking terrifies me, caleb.”

he didn’t answer right away, but his silence felt steady, unhurried. his thumb brushed lightly against the back of your hand, a simple gesture, but one that somehow made it easier to breathe.

“listen to me,” he said, his voice low, steady. “you’re allowed to be scared. no one’s asking you to shoulder this alone. not me, not anyone.”

you nodded, your throat tight with emotion, as he squeezed your hand gently. “i’ll just go fix some things, and i’ll be right back, okay? i’m not leaving you alone anymore.”

his words struck something deep within you, a vulnerability you’d tried so hard to keep buried. you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, wondering why you were so emotional today.

“promise me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. was it selfish? probably. but at this point, you didn’t care. caleb cared about you—loved you, even—and you were done pretending you didn’t need him.

his lips curved into a soft smile, one that held more warmth than his usual teasing grins. he leaned in slightly, his gaze steady and full of affection. “i promise,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your heart stutter.

you watched his back turn to you after he left another kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it lingering long after he stepped away. 

maybe the betrayal would fade someday, its sharp edges dulled by time and the quiet moments like this that he gifted you. or maybe it wouldn’t. maybe the wound would remain, a reminder of everything he had done to you—and for you.

but even now, as you stood there watching him walk away, you couldn’t deny the part of yourself that clung to what he had done. the part of you that loved him for it, no matter how much you tried to resist.

after all, you were his since the beginning.

author's notes: tell me i didn't ruin this halfway bc that is what i felt when i was finishing it. next chapter they will be doing the woompakoompa so buckle up (i just hope it doesn't turn into a 20k words smut scene) lord help me. i'll cry if nobody comments below because my week's sanity was poured into this work. just kidding (i'm not), i love you freaky caleb girlies, see you next time, xo.

[vrystalius]

Never giving up on Sanemi, even after pushing you away

He flinches, he yells, he can’t sleep and keeps trying to push you away, but you won’t give up on your husband that easily.

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

(Post-story, infinity castle arc spoiler warning! Traumatised-ish Sanemi)

You two haven’t slept in separate beds yet, but you might as well should. Ever since settling down in the outskirts of a peaceful village and starting a life without demons lurking, Sanemi has changed a lot. He isn’t the loving, cuddly and sometimes overprotective husband. He is flinching every time you come close and immediately pulls away when you try to touch him. His words drip of venom as he tells you to just leave him be, he’s not in the mood for lovely dovely things right now. But he really is anymore.

All your husband does is sit on the porch with his katana and stare into the woods. Watching. Checking. Paranoid demons may be lurking even after watching the demon king be beheaded and eradicated. His grip on the sheath of his katana was tight and if you tried to gently slip it out of his hand, Sanemi’d aggressively pull away and yell at you to just leave him alone, damn it!

You were incredibly worried about your husband and how obviously he is traumatised about everything that happened. You know he tends to suppress his emotions, especially during his hashira years. All this anger and fear that he bottled up is all overflowing now, affecting you.

You laid on your side of the bed, showing your back to him. Sanemi was having another nightmare, you could hear it. The sheets were shuffling beside you and his breaths came out in a short, ragged rhythm. You wanted to roll over and reach out, touch his shoulder and wake him up, pulling your husband into your arms, telling him it’s okay. But it might make him feel worse, you watched how he jumped everytime you touched him so innocently to pull him into a kiss or just a hug. Now that you were thinking about it, when was the last time you kissed him?

Then finally, Sanemi gasped sharply, his arm reaching out for something in the darkness, before tiredly falling back onto the mattress. Everything got silent, only yours and his breaths filling the quietness between you two. You slowly and carefully rolled over to not startle him. His eyes were unfocused and oh so tired. You wanted to brush some hair out of his face and caress his scalp like you used to, remembering the calming effect it had on him, but you didn’t.

“Sanemi, please.”

He didn’t blink, still staring at a non-existent point in the darkness above.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help. You’re hurting so much…”

Silent tears began to well up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away. Sanemi remained silent, rolling over and showing his back to you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you did the same thing, burying your face in the sheets in an attempt to muffle any sobs daring to exit your mouth. You thought he fell asleep when you didn’t hear him speak.

“I keep seeing him, my brother.”

Your husband mumbled. His voice was deep and raspy, but quiet. You listened, letting him talk.

“I keep thinking he’s there in the corner, or the guys with the black hairs in the village. I’m dreamin’ of him all the time.”

The sheets ruffled beside you and you sensed how Sanemi was facing you now. You didn’t turn around yet, wanting to let him vent.

“I see the six-eyed-freak, blood, fucking blood everywhere. The corridors, Himejima.. I see it all. Every night.”

You heard how his voice began to break slightly. That finally made you turn around, seeing your husband tearing up. You hesitantly reached out and cupped his cheek. Sanemi closed his eyes, carefully leaning into your touch. His lower lip was quivering and his brows furrowed together.

“I’m sorry I keep yellin’, I’m just fucking messed up. I couldn’t protect my fucking brother, couldn’t protect shit…”

Tears couldn’t stop running down his cheek while he was rapidly trying to wipe them away. You moved closer, using both of your hands to cradle his handsome face, wiping the salty tears with your thumb. Sanemi sobbed, holding onto your clothes desperately. He pulled you closer slowly snd wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You felt how his whole body was shaking.

“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, you’re going to be okay…Shhh..”

You tightly held him against you, your hand rubbing his back soothingly. He was still sobbing, maybe even louder now, wrapping his legs around you. You sighed quietly.

“We’re going to get through this, okay? You’ll be fine… It wasn’t your fault. You’ll be okay…”

Sanemi shook his head, clinging onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I’m fucking messed up. You shouldn’t be with me, you need someone normal, a fucking healthy person. Not me, not me damn it…”

It was like he was apologising for being severely traumatised, as if it was his fault. Your tight embrace of him never wavered, giving him a little comfort. His tears stopped flowing, now being reduced to just sobbing and shaking. Your hand began working through his hair like you always used to do.

“No, I want to be with you. I choose to be with you, Sanemi. You’re my husband and I love you so so much, more than you can ever imagine.”

You planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“We’ll get through his together. I’ll stay with you, we can do baby steps. One at a time.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing his head against your chest. Sanemi closely nuzzled against your warm skin, listening to your heartbeat. His hands were still having a death grip on your pyjamas. He nodded quietly.

“Okay… Okay.”

“I love you, Sanemi. I always will.”

Your husband nodded slowly, finally regulating his breathing, his grip loosening.

“Me too. I love you.”

🎃

Fictorber prompt: “I will never give you up.”

Oh jeez I’m so tired. I debated writing today but managed to do it, but now off to bed I go! I’m completely spent for no reason XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

My event Masterlist 🎃

[qwimblenorrisstan]

To Be Known | Azriel x Reader

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: ~ 2.4k

Warnings: Drunk ppl, drunk fem reader, allusions to smut, std mentions, bloodwork (doctors), guy being an ahole + taking advantage of drunk reader, scars, angst to comfort

A/N: this request was so good (ty to anon!!), I feel like az always pairs really good with angst to comfort, anyways hope you enjoy<3 (also sorry for lack of posts recently I just had a math+science test back to back and have spent the past few days studying😭)

Requests are open!

Unlike the rest of your friend group, you weren’t special.

You weren’t a High Lord, Spymaster, General, High Lady, Seer, or any special title. You weren’t funny like Mor, witty like Amren, or even talented in much like all of your friends were.

But then again, like your mother had said, opposites always attract.

Maybe that was why had always had a small crush on the Spymaster who was withdrawn and secretive, the opposite of your friendly personality. You could befriend just about anyone, knowing their name, age, and at least a few background details on them in a few minutes, while Azriel was the exact opposite, getting his information on people through other ways.

With his job and his centuries of experience for two different High Lords, it was a wonder he didn’t already know about your crush on him. Maybe it was because, like everyone else, he was focused on the central characters in your friend group.

The three sisters and brothers. It was hard to overlook them, with all their achievements and accomplishments, not to mention the things they’d overcome and their pasts.

Tonight you were all out at Rita’s, Cassian telling awful jokes to Nesta as she rolled her eyes, playfully swatting him on the shoulder, Rhys and Feyre having a drinking competition, Azriel brooding somewhere in the corner, alone because of Elain visiting Autumn Court with Mor for “political purposes” even though everyone knew she wanted to see Lucien.

You were taking a sip of your drink, idly standing at the bar, elbows propped on the table as your eyes raked through the crowd, searching for someone who could offer a decent hookup. Drunk Fae stumbled about, laughing loudly with genuine joy that made your lips twitch up a bit, the music playing in the background also helping your mood as a cool breeze blew through the open area.

“Looking for someone?”

You choked on your drink, alcohol coming back up to sting your throat a second time before you swallowed it all backdown, one hand over your heart as you sighed in relief, looking at Azriel who’d somehow approached without you knowing.

“Mother above, Az, you scared the shit outta me.”

You replied, taking a few more breaths to calm down, turning to face him, back now against the bar table as the shadowsinger looked down at you, hair falling into his eyes in a boyish way that made you giggle as you tried to brush some behind his hair.

“Someone needs a haircut,”

You teased, and a hint of a smile graced his lips.

“I’ll make sure not to go to Mor this time.”

He said, grimacing for a moment at the memory of the awful haircut Mor had given him, insisting he needed it, only to butcher his beautiful dark locks. You could still remember how distraught he’d been after, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

“I could do it, my mom used to cut hair, taught me a thing or two,”

You offered with a little shrug, taking another sip of your drink, one you’d already refilled by now. Maybe twice. You couldn’t remember, all you knew was that the hangover in the morning would be brutal.

A chuckle from Azriel made you rub your thighs together as he shook his head in fond exasperation. He swallowed, almost nervously, odd for him, before speaking.

“Maybe next time, though I wouldn’t object if you-“

He was cut short by another male strolling up to you a tad bit too confidently, one arm going to the right of you on the bar table as his eyes met yours.

An old partner. Particularly a fuck-buddy.

The best solution for tonight, really, since Cauldron knows you weren’t bold enough to push anything with Azriel. He was a friend, nothing more, or at least you tried to convince yourself. He still hadn’t gotten over Elain, or you thought he hadn’t yet, and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship or making things awkward between the two of you because of your desires the the crush you’d kept secret for years.

Your fuck-buddy’s eyes met yours, and you swallowed, glancing at Azriel as he watched the silent interaction the two of you had before giving a terse nod and walking away. You would’ve noticed how his eyes narrowed, or how he looked stiff if you hadn’t taken a few too many sips between talking with those at Rita’s tonight.

“Want to take this back to my place?”

The male drawled, arm sliding around your waist as he began guiding you to the exit around the side, where people could discreetly leave. Neither of you was beating around the bush, and you rarely did anyway. You both just needed a release, or at least you did.

“Mm..sure.”

You murmured, body hot now, thinking about Azriel instead of the male leading you to his old home, wishing it was Azriel’s hands on you, wishing you knew what it felt like to know him more, deeper than just the tip of the iceberg you’d touched.

~

Weeks had passed since that night, you’d woken up cold and alone in the male’s bed, gotten up, and collected your clothes before walking your ass back to the townhouse while your head had felt like someone split it open.

You had vowed not to go drinking for a while now.

And things had gotten weird between you and Azriel Joe, too. He was avoiding you, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, you could tell.

When he heard your footsteps, he left the room almost immediately, hell, even his shadows were avoiding you, not following you like loyal dogs per usual, just one or two to make sure you were safe at all times like he did for every member of the Inner Circle. His jaw was clenched every time he was in a room with you, and he wouldn’t look you in the eye, maybe couldn’t.

You barely remembered what had happened that night other than a few blurry memories of conversations and whatnot; so you didn’t know if you’d said something stupid and messed it up, or he thought you were a whore for going out with that other male and leaving him all alone.

The more you thought about it, the more you thought the latter was more likely.

It didn’t help that just a few days later, amidst all your worries, you’d decided to take a little walk through Velaris to get some outside time and a serotonin boost, only for the exact opposite to happen when you were met with your previous fuck-buddy from that night weeks ago screaming in your face, yanking you down a small alleyway to properly yell at you.

“Nasty bitch, gave me a disease! If you’re going to be a whore, at least keep your fucking viruses to yourself-!”

Horror shot through you at his words. You didn’t have any sort of STD, not that you knew of at least, and if you’d spread the theoretical disease to him…He might be an asshole, but no one deserves that.

Unsure what to do as tears welled in your eyes and fell, you began trying to ignore him as you turned and dashed out of the alleyway, the loose clothing you were wearing helping you to slightly outpace him through the streets, avoiding the children and Fae on them, not to mention the vendors and toys strewn about.

He pursued you, screaming still, and hot tears of embarrassment pouring down your cheeks as you began to sob, you didn’t even realize you’d outrun him until you were already at the steps to the House of Wind, ascending them, not even bothering to count out the 10,000 steps in your head.

Somehow, through either pure anger or sadness, you reached the top right when your knees gave out, only for Nesta to catch you right before you fell, dressed in her training leathers, weapons strapped to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion and already-building anger as she saw you crying your eyes out.

“What’s wrong?”

She demanded, shifting to hold you up fully, carrying you bridal style as she started walking into the House, snapping her fingers once she got inside, and the House listened to her as always, making a warm cup of tea in your favorite flavor, and a comfort meal she knew you loved as she slowly sat you down at the table. The House must’ve deemed it necessary when it added a cushion beneath your butt on the chair, considering your aching legs.

You tried to blubber out an answer amidst the tears, but couldn’t manage to, and her eyes softened as she sighed, sitting down next to you on your right, before seeing that she wasn’t making much progress, and getting back up.

“Eat, we can talk about this later, I’ll go get him.”

You were about to ask who she was going to get, even though a part of you already knew as you saw her walking off in the direction of his room. You began slowly digging into the food, finding yourself to be much hungrier than earlier anticipated. Then again, you’d skipped out on breakfast, expecting to get a big lunch while out and about in Velaris.

Azriel arrived only a moment later, shadows swirling, concern evident on his face as Nesta gave him a stern look and pointed to you before she mouthed “You’re welcome.” to you, and strolled out of the door.

“What happened?”

He asked, smooth voice soaked in worry as he quickly pulled out the same chair Nesta had just been sitting in, sitting in it as it groaned under his weight. One of his wings stretched out in your direction, just barely curling around you.

You swallowed a bite of your food, tears coming back up.

“It’s embarrassing.”

You managed to croak out, and he shook his head.

“I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”

He pledged, and you trusted that promise as you sniffled again, wiping the wetness from your eyes with one hand.

“Me and that male from Rita’s, we slept together, and he just accused me of…of giving him an STD.”

You said, before breaking into sobs again, hands going to cover your face despite the warmth that burned in your cheeks from the shame of being in this situation. His large palm gently brushed over your back as he scooted closer, raising an eyebrow at the cushion in your seat for half a second before his wing curled fully around you; and he pulled you into a surprisingly warm hug.

“I’m sorry.”

He murmured, and your sobs slowly subsided until you had no tears left to cry, but you still held onto him in the hug, hands fisting the back of his shirt, the cloth bunching up beneath your fingers.

“What if I do, though? Have a..virus?”

He gave a little hum of thought.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, do you want to go get tested?”

You gave a sad little nod, a small pout on your lips that made him want to rip apart the male that made you feel this way. He gently picked you up, careful with your sore legs, figuring out what had happened rather quickly after some of his shadows informed him what they’d seen. They also quickly informed him on the full story, and what that male had done. Another job for another day, but he would make sure he paid for it.

Nearly two hours later, you’d had to pee in a cup for Madja to check, and now were getting blood taken to get that tested as well, as well as any other necessary bodily fluids. Symptoms were noted if there were any. It was uncomfortable at best, but Azriel held your hand the entire time, not even wincing when you squeezed his hand a bit too hard for all the scars covering it.

He quickly winnowed the both of you to the House of Wind afterward, having been told the results would take at least a day to get back. He winnowed the both of you straight into his room.

It was dark, curtains drawn and everything, with the barest essentials in it as well as a desk for work, a few maps hanging from the walls, and assortments of fancy knives you knew he must’ve collected over the centuries.

You turned to leave, but his hand grasping your wrist quickly made you turn, tilting your head sideways in mild confusion.

“Stay.”

He begged, looking terrified of what you might say, but also hopeful. You sniffled again, nodding and tentatively following him as he gently led you over to the bed, each move like a new dance, one that neither of you had practiced before, but were willing to try.

He slowly stripped his leathers off, letting you see his scarred body and wings for what it truly was. And for once, the sight of his bare body, while very attractive, didn’t just make you horny or craving him. It made you appreciate him, who he was at his core. The years he’d spent training and honing his body to protect his Court, the scars he’d suffered protecting his loved ones and serving them; even willing to take it to the end.

You appreciated him. Even in the bad lighting of the room, or the thick shadows swirling everywhere, you appreciated Azriel.

And so, in turn, you began slowly tugging your clothes off, leaving only your undergarments on. His eyes ran over you, respectfully as always, but taking in your vulnerability; who you were beneath the covers, before he gave a small nod.

He walked over to his dresser, pulled out one of his more casual shirts; one that was clean that he hadn’t worn in a good while, and walked over to you, standing in front of you as he helped gently tug the opening over your head, guiding your hands to the arm holes, adjusting it for you.

No words were exchanged, and none needed to be, not ad you both crawled into his bed under the blankets, and he enveloped you in an embrace; wings and arms wrapped around you with his head tucked into your neck.

And tonight, you knew for sure that you wouldn’t wake up cold and alone like that night so many weeks ago.

No, tonight, you didn’t need the warmth of passion or lust to keep you from the biting cold, now you had Azriel by your side, and that was more than enough.

[why-are-you-still-awake]

Jealousy with the Naruto boys

A/n: I’ve seen this done multiple times so here’s my take on it :)

Warning/content: nothing :)

characters: Sasuke, Gaara, Sai

Sasuke Uchiha

☆ Sasuke claims to not be a jealous person, “he’s above that” as he puts it, but something about seeing you laughing and smiling with someone else makes him feel weird, insecure? No couldn’t be…. He likes to think that he’s just being overprotective and he’s not jealous, he believes he’s too good to be jealous and let’s be real, he’s far too prideful to admit he’s a little insecure. ☆

☆ One time when you guys were out in the Konoha market place, some person came up to you and started a casual conversation, but to Sasuke it seemed like this person was getting a little too close for comfort. So to solve this, he came up behind you and placed his arm over your shoulder giving the person a “can I help you?” Look, let’s say they didn’t stick around much longer. ☆

☆ If you try and bring up his jealous behavior, he’ll deny it adamantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust other people. If we’re being honest here, he’s deeply afraid of losing you, to him you’re the only person he has left. So even when he’s being a jealous prick, it comes from a place of love even if he doesn’t outright express it. ☆

Gaara

☆ He wouldn’t consider himself a jealous person by any means, he love you and you love him. He has no reason to be insecure or jealous, but even the kazekage struggles to be reasonable sometimes, he’s only human after all. He wouldn’t be very upfront about his feelings, if you noticed jealous behavior then you’d have to bring it up because he won’t talk about it first. ☆

☆ One time you were waiting for a council meeting to be over and you were in meeting room with him, it was very boring like watching paint dry would’ve been more entertaining. You soon notice a younger council member staring at you trying to get your attention and smiling at you, you politely smile back but then Gaara catches on to the silent interaction. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer while clearing his throat and continuing speaking. ☆

☆ If you ultimately decide to confront him about his momentary jealous behavior, he won’t deny it but will probably be very embarrassed he was caught doing something like that even if you reassure him that you’re not upset and may even find his jealous protectiveness attractive…..☆

☆ He didn’t know anything really about relationships do to growing up in Root, so you and to guide him and explain things basically. Some might’ve found It tiring but you found it endearing to an extent. He had never experienced jealousy before until he saw you talking to someone else who seemed to be pretty funny because you couldn’t stop laughing, he had a weird feeling in his chest and it made him feel *strange* he didn’t understand.☆

☆ He decided to try and get to the bottom of this weird feeling in his chest, so he decided to just outright tell you how he was feeling, you were kinda surprised, but after breaking through the momentary freeze and explained it to him. He was surprised, he never thought he’d be jealous, he trusted you, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him. ☆

☆ There’s no really confronting him about jealous behavior because he’s very honest about how he’s feeling, he definitely forgets appropriate time and place sometimes when he says something, he’s unintentionally a good communicator because of how honest he is and won’t beat around the bush with how he feels. He loves you and wants you to know. ☆

A/n: I’ve never written for Sai before, so sorry if his part sucks. Thanks for reading, love u <3

Do not repost

Edit: thank you all who heart or reblogged or in someway interacted with this post, it means so much <33

[blue-jisungs]

fighting with them ♡

author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)

making up after a fight - here !

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.

and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.

you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?

“y/n”

you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.

“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes

“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh

“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.

“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.

“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.

“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.

“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–

“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.

“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”

the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.

“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.

your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.

changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.

“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.

“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”

the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.

“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.

you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.

“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”

he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.

“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”

the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.

“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”

“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek

“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms

“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.

hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.

“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”

“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue

“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”

“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.

“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him

“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.

“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed.

your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.

“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.

“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.

he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.

you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.

suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.

“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile

“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.

following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.

“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.

“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.

“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.

“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started

“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away

“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“

entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.

“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse

“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.

“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.

“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.

“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms

“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused

“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake

“what are you talking about?” felix grunted

“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.

“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“

“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.

“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”

with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.

“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”

he groaned, making you frown.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.

“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head

“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading

“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed

“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.

“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured

“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice

“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff

“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.

you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.

“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away

“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him

“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”

“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…

“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him

“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.

“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.

you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?

“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”

your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.

you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.

“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.

“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.

“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”

“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by

“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.

before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[anastasiabowe]

𝙏𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙔! — song lyrics corresponding with your boyfriend!

note: Hey guys! So, I have been writing a lot of KNB posts (which I’ll never stop) but if you guys want someone or many to be written about OTHER than KNB, then just request!

P.S. I wanted to try something new so this is why this is a little different from the recent posts!

Content warnings: smut, piv, licking, pussy eating, back scratching, pussy pounding, dick sucking, praise, jealousy, cuffs, overstimulation, and body worship.

★ — 𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜 She's just like candy, she's so sweet!

Kagami dragged his tongue across your neck, growling in the process. You whimper as he did that action, you’ve never done this before, and his tongue feels weird! Kagami continued to dig his fingers that were on your thigh help keep your legs open as he laid between them, and the other on the bed holding himself up.

Kagami wanted to take it slow, savoring in your sweet innocent taste. He has never enjoyed smelling and licking someone like a fucking dog before, but if you asked him to bark, he’d yap. Your hands were on his collar bone as you tried to push his head away. He grabbed your hands with the hand that was on your thigh, and pushed them above your head.

When he was done enjoying your neck, he moved lower. This threw you off. Your face heated up, and panic filled your lungs as he lowered your fitted top past your boobs. Kagami kicked and kissed around your nipples and eventually your nipples causing your- down there to heat up.

Kagami sucked on your nipples, and slowly moved his hand down to your cunt. “W-wait!” Kagami stopped his movements, and lifted his head to look up at you.

He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to clarify. He didn’t move his hands, he actually moved them away from your parts. Eventually when you covered your face from embarrassment he got the memo.

“We don’t have to do this. I just can’t get enough of your taste. You taste sweet.” He smiled, you looked at him through your fingers, and sighed.

“O-ok, well, just go s-slow.” He chuckled, and moved his whole body lower so he was face to face with your cunt.

“Alright, let’s see how sweet she is.” He slid of your panties, and you felt extremely exposed, but yet extremely turned on. Kagami’s mouth practically frothed at the sight. He pushed your legs farther, you pushed back, not wanting him to see all of that, but he was stronger. When you kept fighting he stuck his tongue out and started eating you out. You then slammed your legs closed around Kagami’s head and he chuckled into your cunt.

After a while, he pulled his head from your cunt, prying your legs apart, and looked up at you with a cheeky smile.

“Mhm, she is sweet!”

★ —𝗞𝗨𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗢 Baby, I got everything and so much more than he's got!

Kuroko’s hand gripped yours as he saw your ex playing basketball in the local basketball courts. He was really good, no, very good, and he caught you taking a quick glance. You didn’t seem interested, but a glance was enough to make him jealous. He pulled you into his house quickly, and you let out a whine thinking you were in trouble or something. Kuroko only got like this when he was upset, so what is he upset about.

He pushed you up the stairs, very gently, but you were moving too slow, and he walked you into the bedroom. He slammed the door behind him and grabbed your face in a heated kiss. His face was so smushed into yours you had to pull away because it was becoming painful. Kuroko placed his hand behind your head to keep your lips on his. You whimper out in pain from your lips digging into your teeth.

Kuroko laid you down on the bed, and when you got a good look at his angry face, you could tell it wasn’t you. It was him. Kuroko quickly pulled your pants down, and spat on your cunt. Even though he is mad and not in the mood to be playing games, you couldn’t help but stifle a quick giggle from his cute little tantrum. He perked his eyebrow up when he head you laugh, and soon it wasn’t funny anymore.

“B-baby! I’m sorry, please just slow d-down!” Kuroko pounded into your cunt, his hair in your and his face. He hit his bottom lip as he kept thinking about how you were probably getting fucked by your ex before Kuroko came along. He kept thinking about how you probably once upon a time enjoyed your ex during sex since you stayed with him so long. These thoughts field his fire which he usually didn’t have very much, and it was becoming too good for you too handle.

“Whatever I did, I-I’m sorry!” Kuroko smashed his lips on yours so you could shut the fuck up. He of course wouldn’t dare say that to you, but that was what he wanted to say to you right now. You whimpered into his mouth as he pounded harshly into your cunt. You felt like cumming again, hoping Kuroko wouldn’t deny another one for you.

“I-I’m gonna c-“ kuroko pounded harder and brought his hand down to your pl cunt and started rubbing your clit. You moaned loudly at the action and came, hard. Kuroko wasn’t quite there, he wanted another one from you, and maybe a few more after that. He wanted to show you he was so much better than your ex!

★ — 𝗔𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 I can name a couple ways, baby, this shit might go!

Aomine clenched his jaw seeing you with your friends. You were wearing a skin tight black dress with ripped tights and black pumps. He already knew guys were up against you wherever you were, and he was upset he couldn’t even punch one in the face. You didn’t know Aomine was following you and your drunk friends. I mean you wouldn’t have been hard to find with all that yapping and screaming you all did. He hurriedly walked towards you and your friends calling out your name so they know he wasn’t a creep.

You turned and stumbled from how drunk you were. Aomine grabbed your arm and dragged you a little ways ahead of your friends. You were in heels so he eventually just had to pick you up and carry you home over his shoulder. He got angrier by the second when he kept pulling your dress down over your ass. Why the fuck did you wear this shirt dress. Your ass must of been out in the open and you weren’t even wearing underwear under the tights.

Once you both reached home, Aomine had an idea. He removed your clothes, put on new ones, washed your face and put you to bed. You may think you’ve gotten away with this, if your altered brain could think at all, but tomorrow will be an interesting day.

When you woke up, your wrists and legs were cuffed to the headboard. If you hadn’t recognized the area, you would’ve thought you were kidnapped, but you heard the shower running and knew Aomine was home. “Shit.” You pulled on the cuffs, thankfully you didn’t have a major headache from all the drinking you did, don’t know how, but Aomine must of Gaven you something.

“Aomine?” You tried to yell out, but the shower was too loud. After maybe 5 minutes, the shower turned off, and out walked Aomine. Wet, hot, and mad. To a normal person he looks normal, but to you, you could see the slight twitch in his jaw, showing he is clenching it, which he only does when he’s upset.

He grabbed another towel and laid it over his head. You watched him, getting hornier by the second, but Aomine knew this. The towel around his hips hung low, and his abs were practically punching you in the face from all the workouts he did.

“Ao-“ “shut the fuck up.” His calm voice saying such an aggressive thing made you even more turned on.

Aomine took a deep breath, a tactic he learned from his anger control therapist, and he thought about what he was going to say.

“Y/n. Why the fuck did you think going out dressed like that, without telling me, is okay?” You frowned, annoyed he even noticed. “I don’t usually give a fuck about what you’re doing, but when you ignore my texts for 4 hours, it’s going to tick me off.” He quickly riddled his hair in the towel, and threw it into a hamper. The towel around his waist came off right behind it and you stared at his cock.

He took another deep breath, and walked towards the bed. “There’s a couple of ways this can go, I can’t decide on one, so why don’t you help me, okay?” You looked at him confused, and he smiled.

“Do you want the good option, or the bad one?” You couldn’t breathe. What this a trick question? “W-what?” You tugged on the cuffs again, getting nervous.

“Do you want the good option, or the bad option.” He repeated the question, still standing waiting for your response. “G-good.” You let out a shaker breath, and he smiled. “Good.”

Aomine pounded into you as you screamed, begging him to slow down. He had been making you cum over and over and over, and never once did a smile not break off his face.

“Oh baby, you had a choice, and this is what you wanted!” Your nails slid down his toned back, making him groan in pleasure. “I personally think this was the best choice.” He leaned down and softly kissed you, almost taunting you, because you guys never kissed gently.

“Don’t worry baby, just a few more, then I forgive you. Does that sound good?” When he looked at your face, he could see your eyes slowly closing. He softly slapped you face and chuckled.

“Don’t pass out on me baby, we still got a little more left to do!”

★ — 𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗚𝗔 Need someone who's sweet enough, who'll shoot to make that high note!

Hyuga never had time for a girlfriend, ever since their win at the winter cup, girls up just to speak with him, but he didn’t pay them any mind, until you. Hyuga used to joke about how he wanted a girl who wasn’t needy and could handle herself, so every girl that talked to him acted independent despite then being only a year 1 living with their parents.

But when he met you, his ways changed. You were sweet, kind, and needy. But for some reason, you were an enticing needy. You always wanted him to hang out with you and cuddle with you, and whenever you asked he would, like in a trance, obey you. He doesn’t know why, but he never feels annoyed by the hold you have on him. You aren’t intentionally trying to keep him wrapped around your little finger, but you do!

Hyuga would skip practice for you, very rarely, but if you both made plans and Riko for some reason assigned practice on that day, he would skip it. If there was a game, you were always front row, or on the benches cheering him on, to all the other Seirin girlfriends jealousy.

“Hyuga! Hyuga! Hyuga!” You cheered on the bench with the other teammates of Seirin as the time was ticking and he had to make this final shot. He looked over at your cute face cheering him on, and he felt that go straight to his dick-

He embarrassed but determined, reeled back, soread his feet and and jumped, pushing the basketball high past his opponent and straight into the basket. The arena erupted in a loud roar, and the other Seirin players ran towards Hyuga in victory, but he pushed past them and went straight towards you. He lifted you off the ground and hugged you as if you made the shot.

“You did it! Oh my god you did it!” You excitedly praised him. He felt his dick harden by the praise and had to cut this little victory short.

“We gotta go.” He excitedly said, but panic prevalent, you didn’t even question him and followed him. He led you both into a locked changing room, and he pushed you into the wall.

“I’m sorry baby, this is so inappropriate.” He breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down. You looked up at him with your pretty eyes, and he nearly came right there. You dropped down to your knees and grabbed his cock.

“Did I do this?” Your glossy lips slightly parted after the question which is so innocent but so hot in this current situation.

“You always do this.” You giggled, and brought your lips to his red tip. Hyuga’s knees nearly buckled in when you wrapped your pink lips around his cock.

“Ah! S-shit!” You jumped knowingly and started to take him as much as you could. Hyuga apologized as he grabbed your hair and pushed you onto his cock. You gagged which again, like almost everything you do, nearly made him cum. It was embarrassing at how quickly he came into your mouth, but you don’t care, you know he deserved this!

When you swallowed his cum, and showed him, the groan he let out sent a shiver down your spine. He pulled you up by your hands, and kissed you.

“Don’t make me hard again, we have to get home first.”

★ — 𝗧𝗘𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗜 Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper

Teppei is the definition of innocent. You lean in to kiss him, he turns his cheek, he thought you were trying to kiss his cheek. When you try to touch his abs, he laughs because he’s tickilish. And when you try to hint towards sex, he thinks you’re hinting towards going to sleep! You don’t want to seem slutty or horny, but if you have a hot boyfriend you deserve to have your hot boyfriend! And so, you try everything in your power to see if he’s even comfortable doing it.

You ask him if he’s a virgin. He responds with “what’s your definition of a virgin?” Face slap. You ask him if he’s ever kissed anyone. “Oh, yeah! I’ve kissed my dog, my mom, my sister, my pillow, well I do that every night when I sleep, I don’t have much control over that and I-“ face slap. You ask him if he finds you hot and if he thinks about you at night, he says “of course I think you’re hot! You’re gorgeous, but I always think about you, so.” Double face slap.

You can’t blame a man for being a gentleman but he really is a gentle man. One day, you were so sexually frustrated you resorted to jumping your pillow. Your fingers couldn’t reach where Teppeis COULD reach, and you can’t just rub your cunt! You cried into the air as the pillow wasn’t doing its job. Teppei walked up into the room, hearing your cries and approached you on the bed.

“What wrong?” His hand softly laid on your back as you laid your head against his shoulder. Your lip quivered and he couldn’t tell why.

“It’s nothing.” You softly said, and he pulled you off of his shoulder and made you look at him.

“No, tell me, if you need something or want something I can get it for you.” You frowned, and he softly ushered you to speak.

“It’s so stupid!” A tear ran down your face, for something that could be easily fixed, it wasn’t getting fixed.

“Nothing is stupid! Tell me what’s wrong, I promise it’s not stupid.”

“I can’t fucking cum, Teppei!” You already knew that word went over his head, but when he hugged you, you were shocked.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Your breath got caught in your lungs and you pulled away from him.

“Because I thought you didn’t know what my issue was..” Teppei softly smiled and pulled you into a kiss to your absolute shock. You kissed him back, and truly you didn’t know what the fuck was happening.

Teppei pulled you onto his lap, and you deepened the kiss. “Teppe-“ “What do you need?” He asked, you were almost confused by the question until you saw the look in his eyes.

“I-I need, wait Teppei-“ “what do you need, baby?” His voice still gentle, but more serious.

“Your fingers.” You softly said, he let out a little “alright.” And turned you both around on the bed.

“Teppei.” You called out to him.

“Hm?”

“Wha- how- I thought you didn’t know how this all worked.”

“I don’t, so you’re going to teach me.”

You looked at him in disbelief. He looked back at you, ready to listen to your every command. But he wasn’t stupid, so he started to kiss your neck and jaw. You eased into the feeling, but he was still waiting for you to tell him what you want him to do.

“Teppei, please go lower.” You softly moaned when he listed. He kissed your collar bone and sucked on it. He would then lick the mark, and move on. It felt so soft and loving, you were getting wetter by the minute, and Teppei could feel it on his thing since it was between your legs.

He kept going lower till he reached your nipple.

“Play with the other one t-too.” He sucked on your nipple and brought his thumb to the other and softly rubbed it with his thumb, and soon switched to his thumb and index finger, pinching it.

If you thought you were wet, you were wet now. You instructed him to touch your cunt, and like always, he listened.

He moved his mouth to the other nipple, wanting to satisfy everything and brought his and that was holding your boob down to your cunt. He swiped his thumb from your hole to your clit and back down. Even though he thought it wasn’t doing much, it was doing so much.

You moaned and arched your back at the feeling making him smile.

“What else baby, talk to me.” His breath warm on your boob, and fingers soft and gentle made you feel more than taken care of.

“Please use your mouth on my c-cunt.” Your voice shook from the immense pleasure and he moved himself down to your cunt.

He brought his face close to it, and inhaled your sweet smell. “Mmm, smell so good baby.” You smiled down at him, and he opened his mouth, and started to lick and suck on your cunt. Your hands instantly grabbed his hair, and he moaned when you tugged in it. When he got the taste of you, he became addicted. All the denying of knowing how to please a woman, and the innocent facade he worked hard to maintain fell the second he got a taste.

He felt almost too selfish from denying you of this, he shouldn’t have even pushed this off if he’d know you tasted this good. He had both hands on the sides of your ass, pulling you farther into his mouth. Your back arched and Nails scratched his head. Teppei was getting lost in your cunt, and you felt close.

“Teppei!” You squealed when you felt the euphoric sensation wash over you. Teppei never slowed his tongue movements sending you into overstimulation.

“F-fuck, T-Teppei, too much!” He moaned into your cunt, he couldn’t get enough of you, and his cock was getting dangerously hard by the second. Who knew eating you out would turn him on so much. Who knew eating you out was so addictive.

[llonelygoddess]

Yandere House Stark Headcanons

A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.

Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?

This is where the yandere tendencies begin.

Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.

Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.

Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 

On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 

Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 

Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.

Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.

[writer-with-jazz]

Bad nights (part two)

A/N: hi everyone!! Bad night was the first ever fix I posted and I am very glad everyone liked it so much!! I wasn’t expecting more than 20 likes? But this is crazy and I am overjoyed! This took me a lil while since I started working on this request I got which is a very interesting idea, but thank you sm <333

p.s: I reread this 3 times and used grammars for spelling mistakes if there are still any, do tell me!

Summary: Remus got clingy cuz of the full moon, James lost a match, Sirius has problems with his parents and you aren’t well. How Will this situation turn out?

Read bad nights part one, here

The tension in the room only deepened after Remus pulled back, He was always the calm one, the one who understood the unspoken language of their relations, but today, with every emotion piling up, even he was slipping.

You could feel the heat from his body as he stepped away from you, the silence hanging in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Your stomach churned in response, both from the physical ache and the emotional weight of everything around you.

James finally broke the silence, though his voice was very much with frustration. "I get it, Sirius," he said, barely holding back the anger in his tone. "You’re upset, and I’m upset, but don’t act like you have it all figured out." His hand clenched into a fist by his side. "This—this whole thing—it’s not just about losing a match, alright? It’s about everything. Every bloody thing that's been piling up lately." He paused, glancing at you as though the weight of his next words was too much to carry alone. "It’s about her. About how she’s always there for all of you, and… I can’t even seem to be enough for her."

Your heart squeezed at his words, but before you could say anything, Sirius snapped. "Enough? Enough? What about me, huh?" His voice cracked an that made your chest tighten. "I’ve been fighting off my mother’s poison for years, I’m constantly keeping my own demons at bay, and I’m the one who gets left behind! She’s always there for you, James, and for you, Remus. Always comforting you, holding you up, and I’m just… just here, trying to keep my head above water." His face was twisted in anguish, eyes wild. "And all I get is the scraps—the leftovers."

"That’s not fair!" Remus’s voice was raw, , "You think I want to cling to her like this? You think I’m not aware of everything she does for me? But I need her, Sirius. I’m barely holding it together after last night—" His voice wavered, and you saw the raw hurt in his eyes as he turned to you for comfort once more, even as he fought back his own tears. "I’m not asking for more than what she can give. I’m just asking for her to be there when I can’t be there for myself."

Sirius's glare softened for a split second before he snapped again, his frustration morphing into something darker. "Yeah, well, we all need her, don’t we?" he spat. "But it’s always you, Remus. It’s always you who gets the comfort, who gets the attention. And I’m just supposed to wait in the damn hard moments , pretending I’m fine when I’m falling apart inside." He was pacing now, his voice rising with every step. "I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when she’s the one holding everyone else together."

The words hit harder than anything you could have prepared for, and it was like a pressure released in the room. You knew he didn’t mean it like that. You knew he wasn’t blaming you specifically, but the weight of it settled over you like a suffocating wall. You wanted to shout at him, to tell him that you weren’t some object to be fought over, that you couldn’t be everything to everyone, but the words wouldn’t come.

"You think I’m okay?" James's voice cut through, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and hurt. "I’m the bloody Quidditch captain! I’m supposed to lead everyone, make everything perfect, and now I can’t even—" He stopped, voice cracking, fists clenched at his sides, looking away from both of you as if his words were too much to handle. "I’m so sick of failing."

s. That broken crack in James that you had never seen before. You wanted to walk over, to hold him, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but as soon as you moved, Remus took a step toward you, his eyes pleading, like he was afraid to lose you in all this madness. and Sirius’s hurt eyes, his unspoken plea, were just as raw.

But your body was betraying you. The nausea was getting worse, and the headache was growing more unbearable. You couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Stop,” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady as you stood between them, your hand resting on your stomach. "Stop. All of you. I… I can't do this anymore."

The room went silent, and for a moment, everything stopped.

You felt tears pricking at the edges of your eyes, but you held them back. "I’m trying so hard for all of you. I can’t be everything. I can’t be the one you all lean on all the time." Your voice was shaky, but you pushed through it. "I… I’m struggling too. Do you not see that? I’mtrying, I’m hurting, and no one’s even asking if I’m okay. All I do is try to hold everyone else together, and no one sees it until I’m falling apart. I just… I need… I need a break."

You didn’t give them time to respond, didn’t let them apologize or tell you it was fine. You turned on your heel and walked away

But in the quiet, as the seconds passed, you realized something. You weren’t the only one struggling,It was time for them to see that.

And you weren’t sure if that would make them love you less, or more.

alright so I think part three will be out more soon and will be the final part!!!!

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