check out my writings <33 and feel free to send asks or song recommendations for fics
&Team ๐
^All I Really Want Is You- Maki <In the hot night of June, you and Maki slip out into the quiet, leaving the world behind. With every step, the air grows heavier with things unsaid, feelings youโve learned to keep hidden. Maki feels the shift, reaches for you, and in that stillness, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur.> Genre: fluff, Suggestive. word count: 1196
^Spin Me Around- Nicholas <Small touches and shared sweetness blur into laughter, kisses, and the comfort of being wanted without rush. By the end, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you, close, spinning gently, held in a moment that feels inevitable.> Warnings/Tags: established relationship, fluff, kissing, making out, the reader really likes cherries. word count: 450
^Dangerously Yours-Maki <You come face-to-face with Maki from your past, and the meeting stirs emotions you thought you had already buried. As you talk, old memories, unspoken feelings, and the weight of time surface, forcing you to confront what silence once protected and what it cost. The encounter becomes a quiet reckoning with vulnerability, regret, and the choice between holding on or letting go.> genre: angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. word count: 2k
Riize ๐ธ
^Kiss me- Anton <Some days, the world feels false, and being seen feels harder than being alone. You come home worn out by pretending, unsure where to set the weight. Thereโs Anton, soft, steady, and real, reminding you that you donโt have to hide anymore.> warnings: Young Royals quote somewhere in the middle cuz why not, fluff, comfort, suggestive, itโs a little angsty ig. word count: 888
Enhypen ๐
^White Ferrari- Niki <You kiss someone else in hopes that distance might cure what love refuses to loosen. You tell yourself silence is protection, not punishment, even as it slowly eats both you and Niki alive. Every unspoken word becomes another quiet fracture, another place where truth could have lived. And in trying to move on, you only learn how deeply you canโt.> warnings: Itโs kinda really angsty, but cute in the end, misunderstandings, unspoken feelings, kissing, fluff. word count: 1.5k
CORTIS ๐ข
^By Your Side- James <On a winter night atop a snowy mountain, you and James turn a playful competition into something deeper.> warnings/tags: friends to lovers. fluff, fluff and more fluff. kissing. this is more like โwe both know whatโs happening but weโre pretendingโ type beat, so very push and pull dynamic. one or two cuss words. probably a lot of typos๐ซถ๐ป word count: 2k
^Dayfly- James <You and James are working on a song and you have no motivation to write again, so James helps you find the voice within yourself.> warnings/tags: friends to ???. Kinda melancholic, very cutesy tho, comfort<3. They both go to uni. word count: 1k
^Moody's mood for love- James (SMAU) <At the YCC university nothing stays private for long, especially when a rumor account is involved. James, a student who plays basketball and loves photography, unknowingly becomes the center of a campus-wide gossip storm. A mysterious orange cat roams the campus, and both James and YN have taken to feeding it at different times. When the university rumor account notices this coincidence, a story spreads like wildfire: James and YN are secretly dating. However, in reality, Theyโve never even met. Between accidental encounters, awkward misunderstandings, and the small, intimate moments of observing and taking care of the cat, a quiet connection begins to form, a bond born not from the rumor, but from curiosity, shared kindness, and unspoken fascination.> ONGOING
NCT
^Hey You-Mark - <You find Mark withdrawn and distant, weighed down by something he canโt quite put into words. When you reach out, he opens up just enough to reveal how lost and uncertain he feels. You stay with him, offering quiet comfort.> Warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort??? Contains themes of emotional distress, loneliness, and existential struggle. no use of y/n. word count: 1.6k
previous chapter/// you are here- chapter 13 his literal wife //////////////// chapter14
^^pairing: James x Reader
^^warnings: lots and lots of cuss words lol, the entire chapter is James's POV
a/n: hey...how yall doin...
I almost scrapped this entire SMAU because I was way too lazy to finish it, and honestly, I still kinda am. This takes SO much effort and I have a whole new level of respect for everyone who does this regularly.
BUT then James dyed his fuckass hair and I simply could not NOT continue this series.
The next chapter is gonna be fully written because I'm sick and tired of making fake text messages. Sorry not sorry. I promise it'll be long and full of cute stuff though.
I think I'll still do a couple more text-format chapters here and there because I don't want to rush things and end up butchering the story for y'all <3
previous chapter/// you are here- chapter 12 chill I'm easy //////////////// chapter 13
^^pairing: James x Reader
^^warnings: the last slides are maki's pov
a/n: hey, hi, hello, i was gone for a flippin century mb guys. i really need to wrap this up lol, this is stressing me tf out. writing smaus are not my thing apparently.
<You find Mark withdrawn and distant, weighed down by something he canโt quite put into words. When you reach out, he opens up just enough to reveal how lost and uncertain he feels. You stay with him, offering quiet comfort.>
^^pairing: Mark x Reader
^^Warnings/Tags: established relationship, angst, comfort??? Contains themes of emotional distress, loneliness, and existential struggle. no use of y/n.
^^author's note: I needed a break from the (cortis) James SMAU i'm working on so I wrote this and lwk cried a little. I thought neo had my back </3. I'm wishing Mark aaaall the best in this new era. Every bad thing makes way for something good amirightt. if there are any typos, donโt mind them please ๐ซถ๐ป
!!! This is a fictional piece and does not depict real events.
Please read with care and prioritize your well-being while engaging with this work.
^^word count: 1.6k
A purple hue settles over his room, heavy, unmoving. His back is turned away, head pressed against the wall as if heโs trying to disappear into it. Smoke lingers in the air, slow, weightless, spirals curling like something that never leaves. Itโs filled with loneliness, the feeling of growing old, tired, the kind of tired that doesnโt just come from countless sleepless nights, but from living, simply existing. Tired from walking on the road, where youโre always being told what you can and canโt doโฆ how you should and shouldnโt feel.
The shower is still running in the bathroom, but Mark sits there, bare, stripped of more than just pieces of clothing. Only leaving the outline of himself behind. The room emptied of what there once was, what there once used to be.
The purple light clings to his body, illuminating on his skin, soft, faded, like heโs suspended in a moment that refuses to end. Like heโs stuck in space, as if the gravity itself has abandoned him, left him wandering into the endless nothingess. Time loosens around him, seconds no longer pass, they only just linger, or atleast thatโs what it feels like. They linger, refusing to carry him forward. He floats beyond the pull of the living world, befond its warmth and motion. With nothing to grasp, no orbit to return to, no gravity strong enough to call him home. Even his breath is shallow, struggling to keep pace with the distand world that still turns without him
He exhales slowly, gazing through the smoke that blurs the edges of the room. Maybe for a second, he wonders if it would be easier to let everything dissolve with it, fade within the purple smoke. Let the walls, the noise, the years ahead disappear into that same quiet haze.
Youโre almost afraid to speak, too careful even with your breathing, scared that even the tiniest bit of noise might shatter him. You see him balancing on something thin, something fragile and one wrong movement will send him crashing.
But maybe crashing is what he needs.
What if the silence is doing more damage than any noise ever could.
Your fingers twitch at your side. You want to reach out. To say something, anything really, to pull him back into the room, back into himself.
Because the way he sits there doesnโt look like rest, it looks like disappearance, he looks like heโs about to fade away, become one with the smoke thatโs coiled around him. Consuming him, seeping into his lungs, untill he is no longer separate from it, but the part of a motionless, airless world.
So you reach for him, your hand touching his bare backโฆreal, solid, still here.
โMarkโฆโ
He turns his head to you almost at the speed of light, the motion too sudden for him, like youโve broken through whatever quiet void he had sunk into. His eyes already spilling over, watering at the sight of somebody, the sight of you.
Before you can say anything else, he folds into you, his face pressing hard into your abdomen as if itโs the only place left that still feels real.
Instinctively you gather him, arms curving around his head, holding him close, as hard as you can. Embracing him, keeping him from slipping any further into the silent darkness.
โTalk to meโฆโ
He shakes his head against you, as if the words are stuck somewhere too deep. His hold tightens on you, fingers pressing into your sides, while yours slightly comb through his wet hair. His breath is uneven against you, shaky, unstable, like every inhale costs him something.
โI donโt know what Iโm doingโฆโ he says finally, the words barely audible. โI donโt..โ
And the rest collapses into a sob, torn from his throat before he can even say anything else.
You donโt interrupt, your hand is steadily moving over his hair, while your own tears gather, not daring to spill, as if even they are afraid to disturb the fragile space holding him together.
โI thought I knew what I wantedโ he chokes on his words breaking apart between breaths. โNow it all feels so uncertain. I donโt know what Iโm supposed to do now.โ
Your chest tightens at his words, now unable to speak, unable to give comfort your own lover.
โI ruined everythingโฆโ You feel it in the way he clings to you. Itโs not just grief or regret, but fear. The kind of fear that comes from standing at the edge of something unknown, something dark, something that has never been explored before.
โI wake up and I donโt even know what Iโm waking up for. I thought I knew who I was supposed to be, and now I just keep thinking that if I had done something differentlyโฆโ
You hear yourself sniffle, still not letting your tears fall before speaking. โYou donโt have to figure everything out right now, and certainly not alone.โ
He lets out a weak sound, between a sob and a laugh. โEveryone else knows what theyโre doing, and Iโm just stuck, it feels like Iโm already too late.โ
โYouโre not late Mark. Youโre just in the part where no one talks about. Youโre in the part where everything falls apart before something else can exist.โ
He pulls back just enough to look at you, though he can barely see through his misty, tear stained eyes. โWhat if there isnโt anything after this?โ he wants to believe your words, he just doesnโt know how.
โitโs just like spaceโฆ Nothing just appears whole. Planets donโt start as planets, they begin as scattered dust, broken pieces of nothingness, drifting without shape, without direction. And then, somehow gravity finds them, and pulls everything in. Pulls in every lost, every shattered part untill something new begins to form. Not what it was before, but something that still can exist, something that can still be.โ
Your thumb brushes under his eye, catching a tear before it paints his face once more. He blinks slowly, taking your every word in, settling somewhere deep, where he hasnโt let anything reach in a long time.ย โWhat if I stay like the dust? What if nothing ever pulls it together?โ
โThen you wait, donโt force it into something itโs not ready to be.โ
โI donโt know how to wait without feeling like Iโm wasting everything.โ
โYouโre not wasting anything, Mark. Youโre still here, youโre still feeling it, which means something is already moving, even if you canโt see it yet.โ
The room falls quiet again. He exhales slowly, like heโs learning how to breathe again. Itโs silent for a while, except for the distant sound of the shower running. His forehead rests lightly against you now, no longer collapsing.
โThen maybe Iโll try to hold on, even if I donโt know what Iโm becoming yetโ
โyou donโt have to become anything tonight,โ you whisper.
โIf Iโm just dust right now, then youโre the only thing that ever felt like gravity to me.โ ย His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow, lingering, like heโs memorizing every detail. โand if this is all I getโฆ if this is as far as I go, Iโm glad itโs you who made me feel like I was more than just pieces of dustโฆbecause, loving you was the only time I ever felt whole.โ
Itโs not certainty. Not clarity, but something gentler, something that holds or has a grip.
The room settles into a fragile quietness, the kind that doesnโt feel empty just yet. You stay like that for some time, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe thirty minutes, maybe even longer as the time stretches strangely around you. Your hands still moving through his hair, slower now, more absentminded, like your body remembers the motion, even as your thoughts drift somewhere else, as his grip loosens little by little, still not fully pulling away.
โIโm here, not going anywhere.โ You whisper. โLet me be your gravity, let me hold you like this.โ
His breaths have stilled, you just hold him closer, your chin resting lightly against the top of his head.
โyouโre going to be okayโฆโ
Your fingers trace his neck, over his shoulder, feeling the shape of him, the silhouette of his body.
"everything is gonna be fineโฆ" you murmur, softer now, like youโre speaking into something that might still hear you.
"Youโre cold." You say, only now noticing his bodily temperature, your hand stills for a second before you move it again, a little more deliberate now, rubbing lightly along his arm, like youโre trying to coax the heat back into him.
Your movements slow. Not stoppingโฆ just softer now, more careful.
Silence answers you. Not heavy, not loud.
You press your face into his hair, breathing him in, holding him tighter than before, like youโre afraid he might slip away even now.
the room doesnโt change.
The shower keeps running.
The smoke still hangs in the air.
And youโre the only one left moving.
Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head again, holding him exactly where he is, like you can preserve this moment, like if you donโt let go, neither will he.
"โฆI told you Iโd stay," you whisper, voice breaking just slightly now.
You just hold him.
As if, if you donโt let go, he hasnโt gone anywhere at all.
<You find Mark withdrawn and distant, weighed down by something he canโt quite put into words. When you reach out, he opens up just enough to reveal how lost and uncertain he feels. You stay with him, offering quiet comfort.>
^^pairing: Mark x Reader
^^Warnings/Tags: established relationship, angst, comfort??? Contains themes of emotional distress, loneliness, and existential struggle. no use of y/n.
^^author's note: I needed a break from the (cortis) James SMAU i'm working on so I wrote this and lwk cried a little. I thought neo had my back </3. I'm wishing Mark aaaall the best in this new era. Every bad thing makes way for something good amirightt. if there are any typos, donโt mind them please ๐ซถ๐ป
!!! This is a fictional piece and does not depict real events.
Please read with care and prioritize your well-being while engaging with this work.
^^word count: 1.6k
A purple hue settles over his room, heavy, unmoving. His back is turned away, head pressed against the wall as if heโs trying to disappear into it. Smoke lingers in the air, slow, weightless, spirals curling like something that never leaves. Itโs filled with loneliness, the feeling of growing old, tired, the kind of tired that doesnโt just come from countless sleepless nights, but from living, simply existing. Tired from walking on the road, where youโre always being told what you can and canโt doโฆ how you should and shouldnโt feel.
The shower is still running in the bathroom, but Mark sits there, bare, stripped of more than just pieces of clothing. Only leaving the outline of himself behind. The room emptied of what there once was, what there once used to be.
The purple light clings to his body, illuminating on his skin, soft, faded, like heโs suspended in a moment that refuses to end. Like heโs stuck in space, as if the gravity itself has abandoned him, left him wandering into the endless nothingess. Time loosens around him, seconds no longer pass, they only just linger, or atleast thatโs what it feels like. They linger, refusing to carry him forward. He floats beyond the pull of the living world, befond its warmth and motion. With nothing to grasp, no orbit to return to, no gravity strong enough to call him home. Even his breath is shallow, struggling to keep pace with the distand world that still turns without him
He exhales slowly, gazing through the smoke that blurs the edges of the room. Maybe for a second, he wonders if it would be easier to let everything dissolve with it, fade within the purple smoke. Let the walls, the noise, the years ahead disappear into that same quiet haze.
Youโre almost afraid to speak, too careful even with your breathing, scared that even the tiniest bit of noise might shatter him. You see him balancing on something thin, something fragile and one wrong movement will send him crashing.
But maybe crashing is what he needs.
What if the silence is doing more damage than any noise ever could.
Your fingers twitch at your side. You want to reach out. To say something, anything really, to pull him back into the room, back into himself.
Because the way he sits there doesnโt look like rest, it looks like disappearance, he looks like heโs about to fade away, become one with the smoke thatโs coiled around him. Consuming him, seeping into his lungs, untill he is no longer separate from it, but the part of a motionless, airless world.
So you reach for him, your hand touching his bare backโฆreal, solid, still here.
โMarkโฆโ
He turns his head to you almost at the speed of light, the motion too sudden for him, like youโve broken through whatever quiet void he had sunk into. His eyes already spilling over, watering at the sight of somebody, the sight of you.
Before you can say anything else, he folds into you, his face pressing hard into your abdomen as if itโs the only place left that still feels real.
Instinctively you gather him, arms curving around his head, holding him close, as hard as you can. Embracing him, keeping him from slipping any further into the silent darkness.
โTalk to meโฆโ
He shakes his head against you, as if the words are stuck somewhere too deep. His hold tightens on you, fingers pressing into your sides, while yours slightly comb through his wet hair. His breath is uneven against you, shaky, unstable, like every inhale costs him something.
โI donโt know what Iโm doingโฆโ he says finally, the words barely audible. โI donโt..โ
And the rest collapses into a sob, torn from his throat before he can even say anything else.
You donโt interrupt, your hand is steadily moving over his hair, while your own tears gather, not daring to spill, as if even they are afraid to disturb the fragile space holding him together.
โI thought I knew what I wantedโ he chokes on his words breaking apart between breaths. โNow it all feels so uncertain. I donโt know what Iโm supposed to do now.โ
Your chest tightens at his words, now unable to speak, unable to give comfort your own lover.
โI ruined everythingโฆโ You feel it in the way he clings to you. Itโs not just grief or regret, but fear. The kind of fear that comes from standing at the edge of something unknown, something dark, something that has never been explored before.
โI wake up and I donโt even know what Iโm waking up for. I thought I knew who I was supposed to be, and now I just keep thinking that if I had done something differentlyโฆโ
You hear yourself sniffle, still not letting your tears fall before speaking. โYou donโt have to figure everything out right now, and certainly not alone.โ
He lets out a weak sound, between a sob and a laugh. โEveryone else knows what theyโre doing, and Iโm just stuck, it feels like Iโm already too late.โ
โYouโre not late Mark. Youโre just in the part where no one talks about. Youโre in the part where everything falls apart before something else can exist.โ
He pulls back just enough to look at you, though he can barely see through his misty, tear stained eyes. โWhat if there isnโt anything after this?โ he wants to believe your words, he just doesnโt know how.
โitโs just like spaceโฆ Nothing just appears whole. Planets donโt start as planets, they begin as scattered dust, broken pieces of nothingness, drifting without shape, without direction. And then, somehow gravity finds them, and pulls everything in. Pulls in every lost, every shattered part untill something new begins to form. Not what it was before, but something that still can exist, something that can still be.โ
Your thumb brushes under his eye, catching a tear before it paints his face once more. He blinks slowly, taking your every word in, settling somewhere deep, where he hasnโt let anything reach in a long time.ย โWhat if I stay like the dust? What if nothing ever pulls it together?โ
โThen you wait, donโt force it into something itโs not ready to be.โ
โI donโt know how to wait without feeling like Iโm wasting everything.โ
โYouโre not wasting anything, Mark. Youโre still here, youโre still feeling it, which means something is already moving, even if you canโt see it yet.โ
The room falls quiet again. He exhales slowly, like heโs learning how to breathe again. Itโs silent for a while, except for the distant sound of the shower running. His forehead rests lightly against you now, no longer collapsing.
โThen maybe Iโll try to hold on, even if I donโt know what Iโm becoming yetโ
โyou donโt have to become anything tonight,โ you whisper.
โIf Iโm just dust right now, then youโre the only thing that ever felt like gravity to me.โ ย His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow, lingering, like heโs memorizing every detail. โand if this is all I getโฆ if this is as far as I go, Iโm glad itโs you who made me feel like I was more than just pieces of dustโฆbecause, loving you was the only time I ever felt whole.โ
Itโs not certainty. Not clarity, but something gentler, something that holds or has a grip.
The room settles into a fragile quietness, the kind that doesnโt feel empty just yet. You stay like that for some time, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe thirty minutes, maybe even longer as the time stretches strangely around you. Your hands still moving through his hair, slower now, more absentminded, like your body remembers the motion, even as your thoughts drift somewhere else, as his grip loosens little by little, still not fully pulling away.
โIโm here, not going anywhere.โ You whisper. โLet me be your gravity, let me hold you like this.โ
His breaths have stilled, you just hold him closer, your chin resting lightly against the top of his head.
โyouโre going to be okayโฆโ
Your fingers trace his neck, over his shoulder, feeling the shape of him, the silhouette of his body.
"everything is gonna be fineโฆ" you murmur, softer now, like youโre speaking into something that might still hear you.
"Youโre cold." You say, only now noticing his bodily temperature, your hand stills for a second before you move it again, a little more deliberate now, rubbing lightly along his arm, like youโre trying to coax the heat back into him.
Your movements slow. Not stoppingโฆ just softer now, more careful.
Silence answers you. Not heavy, not loud.
You press your face into his hair, breathing him in, holding him tighter than before, like youโre afraid he might slip away even now.
the room doesnโt change.
The shower keeps running.
The smoke still hangs in the air.
And youโre the only one left moving.
Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head again, holding him exactly where he is, like you can preserve this moment, like if you donโt let go, neither will he.
"โฆI told you Iโd stay," you whisper, voice breaking just slightly now.
You just hold him.
As if, if you donโt let go, he hasnโt gone anywhere at all.
previous chapter/// you are here- chapter 10 stay with me now //////////////// chapter 11
^^pairing: James x Reader
warnings: bad words yall know the drill by now. the very last slide is Maki's POV.
a/n: it's been ages since i've updated. this chapter is short asf buuuut i'll be posting longer ones... and i'll try to update today, no promises thoo. hope i didn't mess up the names again.
<You find Mark withdrawn and distant, weighed down by something he canโt quite put into words. When you reach out, he opens up just enough to reveal how lost and uncertain he feels. You stay with him, offering quiet comfort.>
^^pairing: Mark x Reader
^^Warnings/Tags: established relationship, angst, comfort??? Contains themes of emotional distress, loneliness, and existential struggle. no use of y/n.
^^author's note: I needed a break from the (cortis) James SMAU i'm working on so I wrote this and lwk cried a little. I thought neo had my back </3. I'm wishing Mark aaaall the best in this new era. Every bad thing makes way for something good amirightt. if there are any typos, donโt mind them please ๐ซถ๐ป
!!! This is a fictional piece and does not depict real events.
Please read with care and prioritize your well-being while engaging with this work.
^^word count: 1.6k
A purple hue settles over his room, heavy, unmoving. His back is turned away, head pressed against the wall as if heโs trying to disappear into it. Smoke lingers in the air, slow, weightless, spirals curling like something that never leaves. Itโs filled with loneliness, the feeling of growing old, tired, the kind of tired that doesnโt just come from countless sleepless nights, but from living, simply existing. Tired from walking on the road, where youโre always being told what you can and canโt doโฆ how you should and shouldnโt feel.
The shower is still running in the bathroom, but Mark sits there, bare, stripped of more than just pieces of clothing. Only leaving the outline of himself behind. The room emptied of what there once was, what there once used to be.
The purple light clings to his body, illuminating on his skin, soft, faded, like heโs suspended in a moment that refuses to end. Like heโs stuck in space, as if the gravity itself has abandoned him, left him wandering into the endless nothingess. Time loosens around him, seconds no longer pass, they only just linger, or atleast thatโs what it feels like. They linger, refusing to carry him forward. He floats beyond the pull of the living world, befond its warmth and motion. With nothing to grasp, no orbit to return to, no gravity strong enough to call him home. Even his breath is shallow, struggling to keep pace with the distand world that still turns without him
He exhales slowly, gazing through the smoke that blurs the edges of the room. Maybe for a second, he wonders if it would be easier to let everything dissolve with it, fade within the purple smoke. Let the walls, the noise, the years ahead disappear into that same quiet haze.
Youโre almost afraid to speak, too careful even with your breathing, scared that even the tiniest bit of noise might shatter him. You see him balancing on something thin, something fragile and one wrong movement will send him crashing.
But maybe crashing is what he needs.
What if the silence is doing more damage than any noise ever could.
Your fingers twitch at your side. You want to reach out. To say something, anything really, to pull him back into the room, back into himself.
Because the way he sits there doesnโt look like rest, it looks like disappearance, he looks like heโs about to fade away, become one with the smoke thatโs coiled around him. Consuming him, seeping into his lungs, untill he is no longer separate from it, but the part of a motionless, airless world.
So you reach for him, your hand touching his bare backโฆreal, solid, still here.
โMarkโฆโ
He turns his head to you almost at the speed of light, the motion too sudden for him, like youโve broken through whatever quiet void he had sunk into. His eyes already spilling over, watering at the sight of somebody, the sight of you.
Before you can say anything else, he folds into you, his face pressing hard into your abdomen as if itโs the only place left that still feels real.
Instinctively you gather him, arms curving around his head, holding him close, as hard as you can. Embracing him, keeping him from slipping any further into the silent darkness.
โTalk to meโฆโ
He shakes his head against you, as if the words are stuck somewhere too deep. His hold tightens on you, fingers pressing into your sides, while yours slightly comb through his wet hair. His breath is uneven against you, shaky, unstable, like every inhale costs him something.
โI donโt know what Iโm doingโฆโ he says finally, the words barely audible. โI donโt..โ
And the rest collapses into a sob, torn from his throat before he can even say anything else.
You donโt interrupt, your hand is steadily moving over his hair, while your own tears gather, not daring to spill, as if even they are afraid to disturb the fragile space holding him together.
โI thought I knew what I wantedโ he chokes on his words breaking apart between breaths. โNow it all feels so uncertain. I donโt know what Iโm supposed to do now.โ
Your chest tightens at his words, now unable to speak, unable to give comfort your own lover.
โI ruined everythingโฆโ You feel it in the way he clings to you. Itโs not just grief or regret, but fear. The kind of fear that comes from standing at the edge of something unknown, something dark, something that has never been explored before.
โI wake up and I donโt even know what Iโm waking up for. I thought I knew who I was supposed to be, and now I just keep thinking that if I had done something differentlyโฆโ
You hear yourself sniffle, still not letting your tears fall before speaking. โYou donโt have to figure everything out right now, and certainly not alone.โ
He lets out a weak sound, between a sob and a laugh. โEveryone else knows what theyโre doing, and Iโm just stuck, it feels like Iโm already too late.โ
โYouโre not late Mark. Youโre just in the part where no one talks about. Youโre in the part where everything falls apart before something else can exist.โ
He pulls back just enough to look at you, though he can barely see through his misty, tear stained eyes. โWhat if there isnโt anything after this?โ he wants to believe your words, he just doesnโt know how.
โitโs just like spaceโฆ Nothing just appears whole. Planets donโt start as planets, they begin as scattered dust, broken pieces of nothingness, drifting without shape, without direction. And then, somehow gravity finds them, and pulls everything in. Pulls in every lost, every shattered part untill something new begins to form. Not what it was before, but something that still can exist, something that can still be.โ
Your thumb brushes under his eye, catching a tear before it paints his face once more. He blinks slowly, taking your every word in, settling somewhere deep, where he hasnโt let anything reach in a long time.ย โWhat if I stay like the dust? What if nothing ever pulls it together?โ
โThen you wait, donโt force it into something itโs not ready to be.โ
โI donโt know how to wait without feeling like Iโm wasting everything.โ
โYouโre not wasting anything, Mark. Youโre still here, youโre still feeling it, which means something is already moving, even if you canโt see it yet.โ
The room falls quiet again. He exhales slowly, like heโs learning how to breathe again. Itโs silent for a while, except for the distant sound of the shower running. His forehead rests lightly against you now, no longer collapsing.
โThen maybe Iโll try to hold on, even if I donโt know what Iโm becoming yetโ
โyou donโt have to become anything tonight,โ you whisper.
โIf Iโm just dust right now, then youโre the only thing that ever felt like gravity to me.โ ย His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow, lingering, like heโs memorizing every detail. โand if this is all I getโฆ if this is as far as I go, Iโm glad itโs you who made me feel like I was more than just pieces of dustโฆbecause, loving you was the only time I ever felt whole.โ
Itโs not certainty. Not clarity, but something gentler, something that holds or has a grip.
The room settles into a fragile quietness, the kind that doesnโt feel empty just yet. You stay like that for some time, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe thirty minutes, maybe even longer as the time stretches strangely around you. Your hands still moving through his hair, slower now, more absentminded, like your body remembers the motion, even as your thoughts drift somewhere else, as his grip loosens little by little, still not fully pulling away.
โIโm here, not going anywhere.โ You whisper. โLet me be your gravity, let me hold you like this.โ
His breaths have stilled, you just hold him closer, your chin resting lightly against the top of his head.
โyouโre going to be okayโฆโ
Your fingers trace his neck, over his shoulder, feeling the shape of him, the silhouette of his body.
"everything is gonna be fineโฆ" you murmur, softer now, like youโre speaking into something that might still hear you.
"Youโre cold." You say, only now noticing his bodily temperature, your hand stills for a second before you move it again, a little more deliberate now, rubbing lightly along his arm, like youโre trying to coax the heat back into him.
Your movements slow. Not stoppingโฆ just softer now, more careful.
Silence answers you. Not heavy, not loud.
You press your face into his hair, breathing him in, holding him tighter than before, like youโre afraid he might slip away even now.
the room doesnโt change.
The shower keeps running.
The smoke still hangs in the air.
And youโre the only one left moving.
Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head again, holding him exactly where he is, like you can preserve this moment, like if you donโt let go, neither will he.
"โฆI told you Iโd stay," you whisper, voice breaking just slightly now.
You just hold him.
As if, if you donโt let go, he hasnโt gone anywhere at all.
<You find Mark withdrawn and distant, weighed down by something he canโt quite put into words. When you reach out, he opens up just enough to reveal how lost and uncertain he feels. You stay with him, offering quiet comfort.>
^^pairing: Mark x Reader
^^Warnings/Tags: established relationship, angst, comfort??? Contains themes of emotional distress, loneliness, and existential struggle. no use of y/n.
^^author's note: I needed a break from the (cortis) James SMAU i'm working on so I wrote this and lwk cried a little. I thought neo had my back </3. I'm wishing Mark aaaall the best in this new era. Every bad thing makes way for something good amirightt. if there are any typos, donโt mind them please ๐ซถ๐ป
!!! This is a fictional piece and does not depict real events.
Please read with care and prioritize your well-being while engaging with this work.
^^word count: 1.6k
A purple hue settles over his room, heavy, unmoving. His back is turned away, head pressed against the wall as if heโs trying to disappear into it. Smoke lingers in the air, slow, weightless, spirals curling like something that never leaves. Itโs filled with loneliness, the feeling of growing old, tired, the kind of tired that doesnโt just come from countless sleepless nights, but from living, simply existing. Tired from walking on the road, where youโre always being told what you can and canโt doโฆ how you should and shouldnโt feel.
The shower is still running in the bathroom, but Mark sits there, bare, stripped of more than just pieces of clothing. Only leaving the outline of himself behind. The room emptied of what there once was, what there once used to be.
The purple light clings to his body, illuminating on his skin, soft, faded, like heโs suspended in a moment that refuses to end. Like heโs stuck in space, as if the gravity itself has abandoned him, left him wandering into the endless nothingess. Time loosens around him, seconds no longer pass, they only just linger, or atleast thatโs what it feels like. They linger, refusing to carry him forward. He floats beyond the pull of the living world, befond its warmth and motion. With nothing to grasp, no orbit to return to, no gravity strong enough to call him home. Even his breath is shallow, struggling to keep pace with the distand world that still turns without him
He exhales slowly, gazing through the smoke that blurs the edges of the room. Maybe for a second, he wonders if it would be easier to let everything dissolve with it, fade within the purple smoke. Let the walls, the noise, the years ahead disappear into that same quiet haze.
Youโre almost afraid to speak, too careful even with your breathing, scared that even the tiniest bit of noise might shatter him. You see him balancing on something thin, something fragile and one wrong movement will send him crashing.
But maybe crashing is what he needs.
What if the silence is doing more damage than any noise ever could.
Your fingers twitch at your side. You want to reach out. To say something, anything really, to pull him back into the room, back into himself.
Because the way he sits there doesnโt look like rest, it looks like disappearance, he looks like heโs about to fade away, become one with the smoke thatโs coiled around him. Consuming him, seeping into his lungs, untill he is no longer separate from it, but the part of a motionless, airless world.
So you reach for him, your hand touching his bare backโฆreal, solid, still here.
โMarkโฆโ
He turns his head to you almost at the speed of light, the motion too sudden for him, like youโve broken through whatever quiet void he had sunk into. His eyes already spilling over, watering at the sight of somebody, the sight of you.
Before you can say anything else, he folds into you, his face pressing hard into your abdomen as if itโs the only place left that still feels real.
Instinctively you gather him, arms curving around his head, holding him close, as hard as you can. Embracing him, keeping him from slipping any further into the silent darkness.
โTalk to meโฆโ
He shakes his head against you, as if the words are stuck somewhere too deep. His hold tightens on you, fingers pressing into your sides, while yours slightly comb through his wet hair. His breath is uneven against you, shaky, unstable, like every inhale costs him something.
โI donโt know what Iโm doingโฆโ he says finally, the words barely audible. โI donโt..โ
And the rest collapses into a sob, torn from his throat before he can even say anything else.
You donโt interrupt, your hand is steadily moving over his hair, while your own tears gather, not daring to spill, as if even they are afraid to disturb the fragile space holding him together.
โI thought I knew what I wantedโ he chokes on his words breaking apart between breaths. โNow it all feels so uncertain. I donโt know what Iโm supposed to do now.โ
Your chest tightens at his words, now unable to speak, unable to give comfort your own lover.
โI ruined everythingโฆโ You feel it in the way he clings to you. Itโs not just grief or regret, but fear. The kind of fear that comes from standing at the edge of something unknown, something dark, something that has never been explored before.
โI wake up and I donโt even know what Iโm waking up for. I thought I knew who I was supposed to be, and now I just keep thinking that if I had done something differentlyโฆโ
You hear yourself sniffle, still not letting your tears fall before speaking. โYou donโt have to figure everything out right now, and certainly not alone.โ
He lets out a weak sound, between a sob and a laugh. โEveryone else knows what theyโre doing, and Iโm just stuck, it feels like Iโm already too late.โ
โYouโre not late Mark. Youโre just in the part where no one talks about. Youโre in the part where everything falls apart before something else can exist.โ
He pulls back just enough to look at you, though he can barely see through his misty, tear stained eyes. โWhat if there isnโt anything after this?โ he wants to believe your words, he just doesnโt know how.
โitโs just like spaceโฆ Nothing just appears whole. Planets donโt start as planets, they begin as scattered dust, broken pieces of nothingness, drifting without shape, without direction. And then, somehow gravity finds them, and pulls everything in. Pulls in every lost, every shattered part untill something new begins to form. Not what it was before, but something that still can exist, something that can still be.โ
Your thumb brushes under his eye, catching a tear before it paints his face once more. He blinks slowly, taking your every word in, settling somewhere deep, where he hasnโt let anything reach in a long time.ย โWhat if I stay like the dust? What if nothing ever pulls it together?โ
โThen you wait, donโt force it into something itโs not ready to be.โ
โI donโt know how to wait without feeling like Iโm wasting everything.โ
โYouโre not wasting anything, Mark. Youโre still here, youโre still feeling it, which means something is already moving, even if you canโt see it yet.โ
The room falls quiet again. He exhales slowly, like heโs learning how to breathe again. Itโs silent for a while, except for the distant sound of the shower running. His forehead rests lightly against you now, no longer collapsing.
โThen maybe Iโll try to hold on, even if I donโt know what Iโm becoming yetโ
โyou donโt have to become anything tonight,โ you whisper.
โIf Iโm just dust right now, then youโre the only thing that ever felt like gravity to me.โ ย His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow, lingering, like heโs memorizing every detail. โand if this is all I getโฆ if this is as far as I go, Iโm glad itโs you who made me feel like I was more than just pieces of dustโฆbecause, loving you was the only time I ever felt whole.โ
Itโs not certainty. Not clarity, but something gentler, something that holds or has a grip.
The room settles into a fragile quietness, the kind that doesnโt feel empty just yet. You stay like that for some time, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe thirty minutes, maybe even longer as the time stretches strangely around you. Your hands still moving through his hair, slower now, more absentminded, like your body remembers the motion, even as your thoughts drift somewhere else, as his grip loosens little by little, still not fully pulling away.
โIโm here, not going anywhere.โ You whisper. โLet me be your gravity, let me hold you like this.โ
His breaths have stilled, you just hold him closer, your chin resting lightly against the top of his head.
โyouโre going to be okayโฆโ
Your fingers trace his neck, over his shoulder, feeling the shape of him, the silhouette of his body.
"everything is gonna be fineโฆ" you murmur, softer now, like youโre speaking into something that might still hear you.
"Youโre cold." You say, only now noticing his bodily temperature, your hand stills for a second before you move it again, a little more deliberate now, rubbing lightly along his arm, like youโre trying to coax the heat back into him.
Your movements slow. Not stoppingโฆ just softer now, more careful.
Silence answers you. Not heavy, not loud.
You press your face into his hair, breathing him in, holding him tighter than before, like youโre afraid he might slip away even now.
the room doesnโt change.
The shower keeps running.
The smoke still hangs in the air.
And youโre the only one left moving.
Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head again, holding him exactly where he is, like you can preserve this moment, like if you donโt let go, neither will he.
"โฆI told you Iโd stay," you whisper, voice breaking just slightly now.
You just hold him.
As if, if you donโt let go, he hasnโt gone anywhere at all.
previous chapter/// you are here- chapter 9 may the odds be ever in your favor ///////////// chapter 10
^^pairing: James x Reader
a/n: i'm sooo lazy to finish this </3 I've been feeling a bit unmotivated and off lately. I tried my best to make this as fun as I could. lmk if yall fw it or not lol. ps: i effed up the names again for seonghyeon and keonho in the 18th pic so donโt mind that
previous chapter /// you are here- chapter 8. not you being goofy ///////////// chapter 9
^^pairing: James x Reader
a/n: uni has me locked up lowkey, sorry for the late upload once again. this is kinda like a filler chapter BUT i promise it gets more fun after this <3 and i promise longer chapters are about to come.
previous chapter /// you are here- chapter 4. mysterious...juhoon... /// chapter 5
I effed up the names in the second pic of the gc brah ๐ itโs supposed to be jju saying that instead of keon. so sorry about that
^^pairing: James x Reader
!!! this also includes a small written part. wc:350
!!! I feel like i need to say this just in case lmao. These ships are purely fictional, no real life shipping intended whatsoever.
โdo you always sit here?โ
Iroha looks up, pulling one side of her earphones off. She doesnโt seem surprised to see him. Justโฆ calm.
โsometimesโ
A small pause. Not awkward, just quiet.
Juhoon nods, glancing at the book sheโs reading, then back at her.
He observes her for a second, her back pressed against the tree, hair almost the same color as the pink and white, milky sky. She looks like spring, so fresh, gentle, almost fragile to touch.
โwhat were you listening to?โ
She tilts her head slightly, squinting one eye to block the sun, the other one studying the boy for a second.
โdo you actually wanna know, or are you just making conversation?โ
He lets out a breathy laugh
โbothโ
โfairโ she says, and holds out one earbud toward him.
He hesitates before taking it, fingers brushing hers briefly. Itโs so new, yet so familiar to both of them.
He sits next to her, shoulders brushing each others, their breaths almost synced, barely noticeable though.
He clears his throat โthis is niceโ
โit isโ
They sit like that for a moment, shoulders still touching, not really talking, just sharing the same space, music still flowing in their ears.
โYou donโt talk muchโ she says after a while.
โdonโt need toโ
Thereโs no attitude, just a soft aura, a simple fact.
Juhoon nods one time, like that makes sense.
โitโs warmer todayโ Iroha says, glancing up at the sky, still not settled enough to look him in the eyes.
โdo you like it?โ
โitโs better than the coldโ
โwhatโs your name?โ he asks
โIrohaโ
โJuhoonโ
โyou seem braver than your friend, Juhoon.โ
He laughs, then looks at her, properly this time.
She looks back as she feels his stare, calm, confident but still shy and reserved.
previous chapter /// you are here- chapter 2. Who is this mysterious woman? ///chapter 3
^^warnings: cussing and like one inappropriate joke that's all
^^author's note: if u wanna be added to the taglist lmk<3. idk if yall like the layout, I hope it's not confusing or anything like that. feel free to tell me if I should change anything up with the formatting.
<At the YCC university nothing stays private for long, especially when a rumor account is involved. James, a student who plays basketball and loves photography, unknowingly becomes the center of a campus-wide gossip storm. A mysterious orange cat roams the campus, and both James and YN have taken to feeding it at different times.
When the university rumor account notices this coincidence, a story spreads like wildfire: James and YN are secretly dating. However, in reality, Theyโve never even met.
Between accidental encounters, awkward misunderstandings, and the small, intimate moments of observing and taking care of the cat, a quiet connection begins to form, a bond born not from the rumor, but from curiosity, shared kindness, and unspoken fascination.>
