#I guess this is just what happens when you get way into your own au

[trashisstillhere]

When I said I was currently working on a bit more ‘drawing stuff’, I fucking meant it. No quick art like the last few ones this time, nah screw that, this one’s actually gonna get some effort out into it!

Not just one but TWO-

Ok now listen… I honestly wasn’t planning on posting screenshots like these on here at all since I didn’t really plan or ever think about showing any wips on my account before as I usually only show the drawings and stuff when they’re fully done.

But since I am a little unsure about how long these are gonna take to work on this time, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to post at least a few sneak peaks and plus they don’t really show THAT much.. right?

So yeah, have these for now and plus it’s already getting pretty close to bed time for me.

In case you’re wondering, the first is a comic that will be about or at least supposed to be like 3 big pages. And the second is just a big (kinda I guess) drawing.

And yes, they’re both New Ninja AU related. AGAIN.

Oh and uh actually, I am still planning on working on my own version/ headcanons of the Norisu Nine (aka First Ninjas dead family) and I am going to very soon, like i really want to so bad man it’s been on my mind for almost AGES!!! These two just are being worked on a bit more and on the side.

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten. 

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close. 

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back. 

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear. 

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide. 

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

 But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show  up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore? 

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf. 

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

[yojeongin]

it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles. 

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them. 

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving. 

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh. 

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang. 

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout. 

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance. 

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.  

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself. 

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him. 

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work. 

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone. 

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed. 

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee. 

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle. 

“Lunch with a special friend?” 

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation. 

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?” 

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there. 

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true. 

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd. 

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes. 

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right? 

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on. 

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake. 

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’ 

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his. 

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife. 

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section. 

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters. 

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up. 

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. 

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.” 

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do. 

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that. 

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember. 

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect. 

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?” 

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight. 

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine. 

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you. 

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck. 

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically. 

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you. 

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them. 

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again. 

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while. 

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”  

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab. 

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity. 

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?” 

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained. 

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?” 

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you. 

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with. 

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either. 

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

 ‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat. 

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace. 

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way. 

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes. 

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich. 

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so. 

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability. 

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk ��three missing now— before heading towards the elevator. 

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.” 

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat. 

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain. 

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…” 

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face. 

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?” 

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo. 

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood. 

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses. 

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be? 

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault.  You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals. 

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed. 

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain. 

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down. 

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly. 

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

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[i2ycat]

clumsily yours

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis when your clumsy ass never fails to embarrass yourself in front of your crush, lee heeseung. but the catch is that lee heeseung is embarrassing himself to get your attention as well. a match made in heaven, if you will. genre college au, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers word count 5k+ warnings one mention of wanting to have heeseung in your bed, use of the word whore (in a non-derogatory manner), my man jungwon working overtime as the resident best friend, reader compares herself to other people, kissing, lmk if i missed anything else main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

Clumsy might as well have been your middle name with how much you embarrass yourself, tripping on your own two feet like a toddler learning how to walk for the very first time being just one of the many. However, your clumsiness doesn’t just extend to matters pertaining to your body; you’d much rather it end there, but things never really go your way. It also includes embarrassing yourself in front of Lee Heeseung.

You first met Heeseung at orientation. He was in the year above you, acting as one of the guides that led you and a bunch of other freshmen around the campus. You didn’t know it at the time — though you could’ve guessed — but you were just one of the many girls who fell for Heeseung’s charming smile on the first day of the semester.

Heeseung was known to be good with his words, having the innate ability to let anyone’s guard down. He had a disposition for making kind gestures and making you feel at ease, even with just his presence alone. You still remember the smile he passed you as you wandered aimlessly around the university. At one point, he was even nice enough to initiate small talk, asking you what course you took and whether you had clubs in mind you wanted to join, to which you remember answering the music club.

It was around mid-winter when you succumbed to the heat spreading throughout you whenever Heeseung was around, even at a distance. That was also the same time you found out about his reputation — an infamy for being a tragic womanizer. Tragic because he left every single girl behind with a hotter desire to get him back, but once he left, that was it. He was never one to get back with the same girl.

You’ve heard rumours of how Heeseung was such a good lover that they just couldn’t let him go. Another was that he dated three girls at the same time while he was in Bali for the holidays.

They didn’t bother you because it wasn’t like you had a chance with Heeseung to begin with. It’s hard enough that you’re his junior, but adding the fact that you’ve endlessly embarrassed yourself in front of him just makes it that much more of an exacerbation. Admiring his pretty face from afar doesn’t hurt anybody, especially not your heart.

“Stop ogling at him like some creep.” Jungwon grimaces, stabbing his fork carelessly into pieces of chicken atop his plate of creamy fettuccine.

Even in the packed dining hall, you couldn’t help but notice Heeseung the moment he entered. It wasn’t that you were looking for him; it just so happened that when you looked up, he and his friends walked in. “I wasn’t ogling; he just came in when I looked up.” You explain, despite knowing that Jungwon doesn’t believe you one bit. He has every reason to not, really. You’ve dragged him around campus just to get a glimpse of Heeseung in between classes, talked his ear off about how much you wanted the boy, and all the in between.

“I really don’t get why you don’t just talk to him.” He starts chewing in between words. “It’s not like he has a preference either; he literally dated Yuna from our introduction to economics class.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s pretty!”

“And you’re not?” He raises a brow incredulously.

“Well, I am... but what I’m saying is that Yuna is in a different league of pretty.” Your platter of chicken parmesan sits half eaten and forgotten. “An exclusive league of Heeseung’s exes.” You mutter almost enviously.

It’s true that every single girl that Heeseung dated was beyond the threshold of being just beautiful — Karina, Yuna, and Yunjin, just to name a few. It didn’t help that they are all such nice girls; though you’ve never interacted with them yourself, you know a good-hearted person when you see one.

“You could easily add yourself to that list,” Jungwon states matter-of-factly, taking hold of your unfinished plate of food.

Could you really though?

You look past your best friend and towards the direction of the table where Heeseung and his friends are currently sitting. He’s everything your highschool self could’ve ever wanted in a guy; older, funny, tall, handsome. How could anyone not fall for him? You don’t even blame the girls for wanting to get back with Heeseung, no matter the heartbreak.

Even as he conversed with Jay and Sunghoon, he had this cheekiness and charm to him that drew you in like no other. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought for sure that he was like any other nerd in the campus, with semi-permanent smiles, black rims and jean everything, but way hotter.

As if Heeseung could feel your lingering stare, his eyes met yours. Is it overly cheesy and overused to say that your entire world has stopped? Yes, but you can’t help it because that’s exactly what happened. For a moment, it was nobody else but you and Heeseung in this entire universe.

The rosy tint in your cheeks is hard to conceal, and you can practically hear the heart palpitations in your ear. You don’t even notice that Jungwon is rolling his eyes at you, because he’s sure he’s seen this exact same scene about a hundred times before.

Oh, you were horrendously down bad for Lee Heeseung.

—

“Y/n?” A familiar voice faintly calls from behind you, taking your attention off the book you were reading. You turn, half-expecting it to be Jungwon asking to borrow your car, only to be faced with Heeseung sporting his signature smile. You could’ve sworn you died right then and there.

“Heeseung?” You managed to keep your composure, but you were feeling like a high school girl all over again, internally giggling and kicking your feet over the fact that he was within a 2-metre radius of you.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve talked to Heeseung, but it definitely was the first time you’ve ever gotten this close to him. You could almost make out the number of freckles across the expanse of his face, and you’d gladly continue to do so if he hadn’t already realised the fact that you’re practically a breath away from each other due to his miscalculation of distance.

Heeseung awkwardly falls to his ass as he tries to inch backward. “Ouch,” He hisses.

“Are you okay?” You let the book fall from your hands, instinctively reaching towards him.

“Pretend you never saw that.”

“My eyes were closed!” You hastily reply.

Heeseung’s hazel eyes momentarily swim in yours, as if he wanted to dig deeper into you and know everything about you that he possibly could. He felt as if he was put into a trance under you. A beat passes before he lets out a hearty, genuine laugh. It fills your ears with a heavenly symphony. You wish you could hear it forever, so you commit it to memory. You also wished you would always be the reason he laughed like this.

You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it’s infectious enough for you to want to join in the short concord of laughter. So, it becomes just you and him laughing like complete maniacs in the centre of the campus quadrangle. Other students in the area send the both of you weird looks, but you don’t pay them any mind, because who cares? Who cares if the school’s heartbreaker is having a little fun with little old Jang Y/n? What could possibly go wrong?

In this moment and time, absolutely nothing could go wrong. Right now, the Lee Heeseung in front of you isn’t just what the rumours say he is. He doesn’t have to be the lover everyone makes him out to be.

“We should do this more often.” A smile is still present on Heeseung’s soft features.

“Do what? You fall on your ass, then we laugh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you don’t mind it in the slightest bit. You’re finally able to hold conversations with Heeseung without stuttering over your words and making a fool of yourself.

“Hey! You said you didn’t see a thing.” He pouts, and you feel your heart melting. You put your hands up in faux defeat, softly chuckling at the childish side of Heeseung that he’s suddenly showcasing to you on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.

A comfortable silence starts to permeate the air.

From behind, Heeseung’s friends start to call out for him, breaking the trance you’ve been put in under his warm stare. “I guess I’ll get going. See you around.” He gets up, waving with a boyish expression, which you gladly reciprocate.

—

Jungwon lets out an exasperated sigh, his fingers shifting to massage his temples as he takes the time to cool his nerves. He wonders why he continues to go through with his friendship with you, letting the question take laps around his mind while you stare at him with unwaveringly bright eyes.

“Come on,” You whine. “Please?”

“Can’t you just ask him yourself? You told me that you talked to him a few days ago.”

“Yeah, but what if he thinks I’m weird?”

“That’s because you are,” Jungwon mutters, huffing once more out of pure dispairment. “Look, it’s not weird for you to simply ask a friend out.”

“When you phrase it like that, you make it sound as if I’m asking him to be my boyfriend!” You nudge him in the arm.

“That’s because you make it seem as if you are.” He gives you a look and says, “See? It’s not that big of a deal.” You’re rendered speechless at Jungwon’s words of wisdom, as he likes to call them.

“Please?” You attempt to coerce Jungwon one last time, looking up at him with the infamous puppy eyes, but immediately admit defeat when he narrows his eyes at you, brows furrowing in the process. “Ugh, fine.” You get up from your position on the couch, dusting yourself when you stand in front of the body-length mirror by the front door.

“Text me when it goes wrong!” Jungwon’s voice echoes in the small apartment as you shut the door.

The walk to campus was relatively peaceful, but it doesn’t do much to calm either your heart or thoughts, even as you rehearse the lines in your head ten times over.

Hey, Heeseung! I really wanted you to come to the show my friends and I are having tonight! No, you’re doing way too much. Might as well tell him you want to kiss him.

Heeseung! Come to the show my friends and I are having. Definitely not, too demanding.

Hee! Could you please come to the show my friends and I are having tonight? Hee? And you sound way too desperate.

Hey, Heeseung! You and your friends could come to the show my friends and I are having tonight! You could roll with this. Friendly, casual, and totally doesn’t sound like you desperately want him to be there at all.

As you go over the lines in your head one last time for good measure, your body crashes into one that is much firmer and larger than yours.

“Ow!” You yell, hands flying all over the place to find something to hold on to catch your fall, which you do — a bicep, more specifically Lee Heeseung’s bicep.

In the flurry of emotions, you didn’t even notice who you bumped into, only realising seconds later when you'd already gotten steady on your own two feet by using their body as an anchor.

“It’s you again.” Heeseung’s voice is hard to mistake; the familiarity in his sweet and melodic tone does not fail to strike you in the heart, making it beat ten times faster against your chest.

Oh.

Oh.

Almost instantly, you become hyper-aware of his touch on your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your eyes are blown wide, unable to compute that you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Heeseung yet again. You just grabbed him in the bicep. All you wanted to do right now was hide in a ditch, preferably for the rest of the semester.

“Yeah, haha. It’s me again.” You rub your nape awkwardly, letting out a forced chuckle. “I was thinking about you!”

“Really now?” Heeseung raises a brow, with both intrigue and mirth present in his features.

The colour in your cheeks deepens. “No! That’s- that’s not what I meant. I was- I was just-” Each second that ticks by makes you want to run away even more, as you’re sure you’ve embarrassed yourself more than enough by now. He definitely thinks you’re some weirdo who thinks about him every second of the day — which you are, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Not that I mind you thinking about me; I actually quite like that you do, because at least I know the feeling’s mutual.” A smug smirk maintains itself on Heeseung’s face, twinkling eyes scanning the expanse of your face.

The what is what now?

You gulp almost painfully, blinking up at Heeseung with a bewildered stare, because there’s no way he just implied that he thinks about you too. Surely you’ve inferred wrongly. There’s just no way that you can take up space in the Lee Heeseung’s head.

“I-I have a show today at Delton. My band and I are performing. It would be nice if you could come.” You make the effort to completely disregard the revelation he’s just thrusted upon you, instead taking the chance to make use of the mental prep you were doing just minutes earlier. You were ready to ask him to come to your show, not to receive an indirect confession. It wasn’t a profession of love, but a confession nonetheless.

If Jungwon knew about this, he’d probably kick you in the shin for your pathetic excuse of a response. You internally shudder at the thought of Jungwon blowing up at you after you tell him what just transpired.

Before Heeseung can even come up with a response, you excuse yourself, brushing past him in a rushed manner. You didn’t even want to spare a glance at his face, scared that you would fall to your knees right then and there.

—

“Are you nervous?” Gaon, who is situated with a mic stand beside you, asks.

You nod your head ever-so-slightly, wiping your sweaty hands on the sides of your sweatshirt. You joined the music club a few months ago, but it wasn’t until just a few weeks ago that you started joining them as a lead vocalist in performances. So even until now, you weren’t acclimated to singing in front of a crowd just yet, no matter the size.

“I know you’ll kill it; you always do.” You both share a smile before the curtain in front of you slowly reveals the humble crowd just beyond the stage. In the dim lighting, your eyes scan the audience one by one, recognising a few girls from the classes you take and a few from the other majors. You even spot Karina with Yunjin near the back, as well as Jungwon.

When you don’t find Heeseung, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t disappointed. But after the little encounter you had with him this afternoon, you wouldn’t have either.

You put your thoughts aside when the familiar strums of Gaon and Junhan’s guitar fill your in-ears. You take a final deep breath, calming the last of your shaking nerves.

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there.” The stage lights finally bring attention to you as you sing the first verse, closing your eyes in the moment. “I’ll beg you nice from my knees.”

Right as the beat drops, guitars and drums harmonising to create a new rock-sounding melody, you open your eyes, only to see Heeseung in all his jean-clad glory standing at the front row. He’s hard to miss as he practically towers over everyone else with his intimidating height.

“All I wanted was you.” You pull the mic stand towards you, emotions pouring out of every lyric that you sing. As if no one else mattered in the confined space of the bar, you kept your gaze solely on Heeseung. The confidence in your voice mirrors the one you wish you had as you make it further into the song, singing the lyrics line by line. Adrenaline takes over, letting you enjoy the moment to the fullest.

When the music comes to a complete stop, the loud cheers and hooting of the audience replace it instantly. You thank the crowd for the night and make it backstage, getting bombarded with compliments from the stage crew and other performers.

“You sang so well!” along with other compliments, continue to follow even as you disappear back into the crowd, attempting to find your way back to Jungwon. You make an effort to smile at them bashfully, even though you don’t think you did as well as you wanted to tonight.

“Y/n!” Heeseung pushes past people to get to you, mumbling a roll of short ‘excuse me's in the process. “Hey, um, you did really well.”

“Thank you.” You smile at him.

You looked so beautiful, which was what Heeseung wanted to add, but he remains silent and motionless, admiring the way you looked under the dim lighting instead. You’ve both made it near the back of the bar, where there was nobody else but you two. The next performers kicked off their performance of the night, so it made conversations between Heeseung and you harder to hear, prompting him to inch a step or two towards you.

“You have a really beautiful voice,” He shouts over the background instrumentals. His body is closer to yours, with his hands ghosting over the shell of your ears. Is it just you or was it getting hot in here?

You thank him once again, not trusting yourself to say any more than that, already semi-traumatised by this afternoon’s incident. Because what if you accidentally let out that the reason you chose to cover the song was because of him? With your luck, you were sure you would be spilling how much you wanted him entangled with you in your bed.

“You like Paramore?” He asks, trying his best to keep the conversation alive. He knew you liked music from the get-go, so he used it to his advantage. He usually isn’t one to pull all his weight with the girls he talks to, but it felt different with you. He felt that he needed to try even harder with you if he wanted to get you. It’s a first for Heeseung, and it scared the shit out of him.

“I do, actually!” You purse your lips into a small smile, reminiscing about the times when you would hold a makeshift concert in front of your sister with remote controls as microphones and stools as stages. “I used to listen to them a lot when I was younger.”

“All I wanted was you is actually my favourite song from them.”

“Really?”

“Maybe even more now after I’ve heard your rendition of it.” Your breath hitches in your throat probably for the nth time today and because of the same damn reason: Lee Heeseung and his endless flirting. Could you even call this flirting? You don’t know anymore. He’s just playing with you, like he does every other girl on this entire campus.

“I think I heard Jungwon calling for me!” You motion with your hands, already taking a step back before Heeseung could even catch you. He watches as your figure disappears into the sea of people, sighing to himself in defeat. You’ve ran away from him, again.

—

“Then what the fuck is the issue here? Because I don’t see one!” Jungwon groans after hearing your side of the story. “He’s obviously into you if he’s making the effort to flirt with you. Plus, I saw you guys talking real close last night. You left me alone for a MAN of all people.”

“Jungwon, must I remind you that you’re a MAN yourself?”

“Then take my fucking advice, as I am a part of the MAN community, when I tell you that you should just let yourself be happy and be with the damn guy! Who the fuck gives a fuck if he’s a man whore?” He finishes his piece of bread, dusting off the crumbs towards you in a manner of frustration. “We’re in college; everyone’s a whore.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you don’t say anything to retort because you know it’s true.

You’ve long accepted the fact that you would only ever hold the title of Heeseung’s friend, so it felt like sudden whiplash when Heeseung was starting to show signs of reciprocating your feelings — or at least you think so, when all you’ve ever fantasised about was him feeling the same way. Maybe it suddenly felt too real, and you weren’t actually expecting him to like you when all you’ve done is embarrass yourself in front of him.

You didn’t want to jump the gun either, making your heart feel even worse if it really was all just friendly. I mean, what could you possibly have done to make him finally notice you the way you notice him?

“Ugh, I know that look. Give yourself more credit!” He ruffles your hair and says, “You’re already extremely pretty in your own way.” The intensity in his eyes softened. “And this thing isn’t just a friendly gesture, I can tell that much. He wouldn’t go this long to just play with someone, you know that.” You nod, acknowledging that Heeseung was too nice for that. He may have dated a long list of girls, but those girls only ever had good things to say about Heeseung, from how attentive he is to how he always takes care of them. It’s what made Heeseung such a popular bachelor in the first place — being such a good lover.

“He likes you for you, Y/n. Plus, you deserve to be loved, so let yourself be loved, yeah?” Jungwon’s thumb goes over the apples of your cheeks lovingly.

“Jungwon,” You pout, touched by your best friend’s sweet words. “Come here.” You widen your arms for a hug, and knowing that he despises physical touch, you’re not surprised when he runs away from you, but even then you chase after him.

—

A few weeks have passed since Jungwon gave you that pep talk, and ever since then, you’ve been more open and less awkward to Heeseung’s flirting, even replying with your own few flirty lines here and there. The both of you have evidently become much closer than just friends; everyone with a pair of eyes can see that much. And with Heeseung’s reputation and popularity, it’s all everyone has been talking about these few days.

Girls have been approaching you left and right, telling you to keep your guard up with Heeseung because he’s going to leave you the way he left the other girls, telling you how you’re not special and that you’re just his newest plaything. You know they all had good intentions, but deep down, it still hurt all the same. Did it instill a newfound insecurity within you? Yes. Did you now have an irrational fear of being ditched? Yes, times two. But the catch was that you weren’t even a thing to begin with.

Every single lingering touch and loving stare was under the umbrella of just friends, with neither of you making the effort to clarify because it was always more convenient that way. But you’re starting to get greedy as the days pass. You don’t want to just be his plaything, and maybe you’re reaching, but you really want this to be something. If you’ve already gotten this far, what’s a little more?

You’re unable to stop these thoughts from spreading throughout the crevices of your mind, even while you’re lying across Heeseung’s couch with your head on his lap. His tender hand caresses your locks, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok with the other.

Routines like this have unknowingly formed throughout the few months you’ve gotten to know Heeseung; after class, you would either end up at Heeseung’s apartment to chill and talk or find yourselves at a nearby restaurant to try. You recently found out that Heeseung is a big foodie, with ramen being his favourite of them all. It’s small stuff like this that makes you feel as if you’ve dug deeper into Heeseung than anyone else ever has before. After all, you’ve stayed with him longer than in all his past relationships.

It’s a sense of false accomplishment, really. They’ve got to actually call Heeseung their boyfriend, while you’re just some fake. A girl-friend.

“Baby, look at this.” Did you add that he also calls you baby? Because he does, all the damn time. You always remind him to just use your name, but he reasons that baby fits you much better. It’s as if he’s deliberately trying to torture your heart.

Heeseung shows you a video on his phone, but your mind is already occupied elsewhere, which he takes immediate notice of. “Baby?” He calls, his fingers brushing your cheek.

You sit up from your position on his lap to face him, “Heeseung, what are we?” You see Heeseung’s body tense up, his jaw going rigged, and his eyes blown wide.

The silence is deafening.

“I-” Words fail to make it past Heeseung’s lips, leaving him at a loss for words. As each second on the clock ticks by, your heart breaks a little more. So he really was going to discard you like everyone else.

You continue to chide yourself for your naivety, for thinking that you could change him when you couldn’t even make him like you. You don’t even blame him because you’re definitely not a Karina or a Yunjin in any aspect; there’s no way he would fall for you.

“I wanted the timing to feel right.” Finally finding the courage, he continues. “I didn’t want to rush into things because this felt different.” His auburn orbs soften as he gazes at you with such love and affection, wanting nothing more than to hold you tight in his arms.

“I don’t get it.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you to be my girlfriend for a while now, and I’ve been thinking of ways to ask you. Over a fancy dinner, maybe?” He chuckles, his hand flying to scratch the back of his neck. “And I still want to do that officially, but if you must know, you’re the only girl I want.”

You’re the only girl he wants. His voice echoes in your head, effectively melting every single doubt and insecurity in its path.

Heeseung scoots closer to you with his hands cupping your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” You slowly nod.

His soft lips felt perfect on yours, and you could feel your body buzzing with relief and warmth, your skin burning under his. His touch, his kiss, and his body being so close to yours made you feel lightheaded with want. It electrified you. Every single thing would no longer matter after this moment because Heeseung wanted you the same way you wanted him.

He was yours, and you were his.

—

“Where are we going?” You ask as you watch endless views of the seaside flurry by. With the windows rolled down, you relish in the onshore spring breeze.

“You’ll see, baby.” Heeseung squeezes your thigh for good measure, letting out a hearty laugh when the apples of your cheeks tint a bright red.

Minutes continue to pass you by, and when you reach your destination, or you believe that it is, Heeseung asks you to don a blindfold. You immediately comply, albeit a bit concerned, yet you still let yourself get dragged by Heeseung into unseen territory. With one of your senses gone, the sounds of hushed whispers, the clinging of keys, elevator sounds accompanied by their music, and the closing of a door are amplified tenfold. You try to make sense of your surroundings but give it up when you haven’t a single clue as to where you are or what you’re doing. You occasionally make the effort to inquire Heeseung about it, but he shuts you down almost immediately, repeating that you’ll see it soon enough.

“Come on, you big baby.”

Heeseung unties the blindfold, letting it fall onto the ground as you get slowly acclimated to the sudden difference in lighting.

It takes you a few seconds to realise that you’re in a hotel room, one that has been neatly decorated with helium balloons and flower petals everywhere, as well as the most stunning view you’ve ever seen. The sun continues to set in the background, painting the sky hues of orange and pink. You could even see the beach so perfectly from where you stood in the doorway. Your heart swells in its place, looking back at Heeseung with tears lining your eyes.

With his hand still clasped in yours, he leads you further into the suite, pointing at the large metallic letters reading, ‘Can I Be Your Boyfriend?’ on the headboard of the bed.

You knew that Heeseung wanted to make it special when he asked to officially become your boyfriend, but you didn’t think he would go this far: booking a hotel, letting the hotel staff in on it, then decorating said room in all your favourite colours.

“Heeseung.” You turn, hands flying towards Heeseung, to capture him in a deep and passionate kiss. When you’re both breathless and panting, you stick your forehead together with his, savouring the sweet moment. “Yes, a hundred times yes. You can be my boyfriend.” You smile at him, feeling the salty tears finally start to trickle down.

“I love you.” He picks you up and twirls you around before he continues to plant kisses on your lips and the entirety of your face. “I loved you the moment you fell in front of me, the moment our eyes met, the moment I fell on my ass for you, and the moment you sang my favourite song.” He whispers in between kisses.

This felt like a dream — how you went from crushing on the campus heartbreaker to dating the guy of your dreams.

© i2ycat 2024 i love heeseung sm goodbye. also if u see any mistakes no u don’t… i’ve proofread this like 20 times and i think i might’ve gone insane (real)

[bunny-jpeg]

vegetable patch (3)

farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon

cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),

part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.

but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.

it was cute.

the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.

the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.

it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.

he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."

your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.

he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."

you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."

"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"

"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.

price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.

"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.

you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."

"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.

but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.

the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.

you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.

his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?

you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."

he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."

he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.

you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.

it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.

"ah, sir!" you whimpered.

he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.

price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.

"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."

you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.

"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."

you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.

"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.

but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.

simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."

"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."

"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."

"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.

with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.

this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.

simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.

you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.

you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.

"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.

"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.

your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.

price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.

"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.

sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.

his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.

both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.

and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.

"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.

simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."

price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."

you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3

[cvnntagious]

ও ⋮ 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⸝⸝

all my fuckboy!matt blurbs, fics, and wips : here

fratboy!chris ver. here

⇢ SFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who, like his title entails, is a fuckboy. much unlike (fratboy!)chris, he's quick to entertain girls who throw themselves at him

❒ fuckboy!matt who 'isnt afraid of commitment'

" c'mon, y'think i'm scared of that shit? what's to be scared of? trust me, if i wanted to, i could keep 'er by m'side forever. "

" so... what? you wanna keep playing? "

" playin'? nah, m'jus havin' my fun. why settle down now? "

❒ fuckboy!matt who spends most of his time at the frat with chris

❒ fuckboy!matt who, despite his brother's constant begging, refuses to commit to chris' fraternity

❒ fuckboy!matt who mostly meets girls through chris, whether they're a client of chris' who happened to run into him, or chris sent them his way

❒ fuckboy!matt who is surprisingly top of his classes, taking homework and studying very seriously

❒ fuckboy!matt who does chris' homework

❒ fuckboy!matt who's dormmate is nick

❒ fuckboy!matt who doesn't deal, and actually happens to constantly be on chris' ass about being reckless

" gonna get fuckin' caught with that, " he said, snatching the little baggie from his brothers hand

" don't be a pussy matt, i got people feinin' for that shit—s'good money. "

" nothin' pussy about this, s'for your own good. you ain't heard twelve's out here really searchin' for this shit right now? i'm not bailing y'out, dickhead. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who only really has his brothers at the end of the day, so he allows himself to only care for them and no one else

❒ fuckboy!matt who noticed you in one of his classes on the very first day, but only got the guts to actually talk to you when chris told him to keep you occupied so he could head off with your friend

" we got hella booze, if y'drink, kid... I'll be taking her, and, um- " chris reached over to slap matt's chest as a gesture, " oh, perfect. this's my brother, matt. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's an asshole and he knows it, not caring how his words or actions affect others (unless you're nick and chris, of course)

⇢ NSFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who was never one to go back for more until he met you

❒ fuckboy!matt who, though he'd never admit it, hasn't so much as touched another girl since he'd gotten you in his bed

" you're seeing other people? "

" na— well, would it be a problem if i were? y'think we're together or sum'n "

" i guess not... "

" s'what i thought. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's sex drive is crazy, sometimes making you wonder if he ever gets tired

" one more time. just one more, c'mon, i know you can take it, " meanwhile you're spent beneath him, sopping wet and trembling as you struggle to form words from your fourth orgasm

❒ fuckboy!matt who could eat it till he's blue in the face, if you'd let him

❒ fuckboy!matt who always ends up taking control when you ride him

❒ fuckboy!matt who loves when you scratch him, overstimulating you til you can't do any thing but scratch at his biceps or back

❒ fuckboy!matt who refuses to do anything without a condom... until he's drunk and needy, hands wandering as he 'forgets' all about the rubbers sitting in the drawer of his nightstand

❒ fuckboy!matt who'll say things just to upset/piss you off, just so he can fuck all those harsh emotions away

" aww, hurt y'feelings? won't - do - it - again, sweets, promise. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's always down for a quickie—any time, any place

❒ fuckboy!matt who has no problem trying new positions, but usually sticks to speed bump, missionary, or any version of cowgirl

❒ fuckboy!matt who isn't embarrassed about being loud, not caring who could be hearing him

" fuckkk, sweetheart, keep backin' that into me. "

" ah- shit, oh, y'gonna make me cum. mm-mhm, do that shit again. "

a/n : pretend this didn't take years to get out cs i said i was gonna make headcanons for all my au's ages ago and basically stopped at fratboy!chris...

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!

[moonstruckme]

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse. 

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?” 

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.” 

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?” 

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.” 

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?” 

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.” 

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.” 

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.” 

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.” 

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.” 

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.” 

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.” 

“You were angry last night. Not me.” 

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.” 

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late. 

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you. 

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed. 

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?” 

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails. 

“I just want a chance to apologize.” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.” 

“Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.” 

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.” 

“I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“Sure you do.” 

“Why do you want to fight so bad?” 

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.” 

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?” 

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.” 

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.” 

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.” 

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle. 

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?” 

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.” 

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.” 

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer. 

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

[xetlynn]

Arcane Imagines- Viktor

Nosy Coworkers

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: this is a modern au where the characters are high school teachers. You and Viktor have been dating for 7 months and haven’t told anyone. Jayce and Vi are just now putting things together and decide to spy on you two to see if they’re correct. (GN reader, no pronouns used.)

“You want to use your lunch time to spy on our colleagues because you two have a hunch that they’re dating?” Mel asks with a raised brow beside Caitlyn that laid the same confused expression. “Well I just don’t understand why they’d hide it if they are!” Jayce exclaims, leaning against his desk. “Maybe because of this exact reaction?” The dark blue-haired woman rolls her eyes. 

Violet scoffs at her wife, standing up. “Or maybe they want us to figure it out on our own. Like a test of our intelligence. You guys know how Viktor is with his… love for.. Um- You know what I’m talking about.” She stammers, eyeing her friend to back her up. Jayce nods his head but is quickly interrupted by the two girls disagreeing. 

“Vi, I love you but this is childish even for the both of you.” Caitlyn sighs out, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What’s childish?” A voice pierces the room, startling the four. They looked to the doorway to see you standing there with a lopsided grin. 

Jayce and Violet sweat at the sight of you, looking back to their partners with fear in their eyes. Mel presses her lips together attempting not to laugh. “These two had some bright idea to convince the principal to let teachers wear pajamas to work whenever we want to.” Caitlyn lies straight through her teeth. Even though it was a stupid lie, somehow you didn’t question. Just letting out a quiet chuckle at what you were told. 

Jayce and Vi’s shoulders drop in relief. “I wouldn’t mind it if Principal Heimerdinger did allow that but you’d also have to argue with Vice Hoskel. Doubt that will go well.” You grimace, remembering the last time you tried speaking with that man about getting ink for the printer. 

“Jayce, here are those pencils you needed, by the way.” You drop three packs of the wooden sticks upon his unorganized desk.

“Thanks, [Name]. You’re the best. As usual. So smart… funny… Any guy would be lucky to be with you!” He nudges your arm with a bit too much enthusiasm. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at Mel who hides her face in her hands and shaking her head. Caitlyn bites the inside of her cheeks. “Uh, ha ha… Yeah I guess so.” You rub the back of your neck. Violet was even surprised at her best friend’s stupidity. 

“I’m um I have somewhere to be for lunch.” You clear your throat, excusing yourself rather abruptly. Not knowing what else to do. The three girls burst into laughter once you're out of earshot. “Dude!! That was rough!” Violet slaps Jayce’s back who was mentally cursing at himself for what he just said to his supposed coworker's partner… who was also his coworker. 

You sat alongside your boyfriend of 7 months at your usual cafe. Coming here frequently for lunch dates. Your hand held his as you took a bite of your sandwich. Viktor was looking over his upcoming units, figuring out the next works for his students. 

“Mm, Jayce said something really weird!” You speak up, cutting the comfortable silence. Viktor hums in response, taking his attention away from his papers to you. He momentarily takes his hand from yours to wipe the aioli from your sandwich off of your cheek, licking it. It leaves you stunned briefly. 

“What did he say, love?” Viktor smirks at your expression, you shake your head going back on track to your recent statement. “I gave him those pencil packs that we bought last night and when he said thank you he told me that any guy would be lucky to be with me.” Your face scrunched as your recalled what happened earlier. 

“He isn’t wrong, but what a strange thing to say.” Viktor doesn’t seem entirely muddled by their coworkers choice of words. His fingers trail down to your knee giving it a squeeze. “I know, right!?” You lift up your mug of coffee. “Can you check if it’s too hot, Vikkie?” You bring it up to his lips, he leans to the cup swiping the roasted liquid.

“Too sweet.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust, you playfully roll your eyes. “Is it good for me or not?” You pout and he snickers. “It’s the perfect temp, love.” He goes back to his paperwork and you connect your hands back together, his weaker leg resting over your calf that you stuck out on purpose.

 “Thank you for your service.” You peck his cheek. The both of you didn’t even notice the pink-haired girl wearing sunglasses and a beanie. And the big-lug on the other side of the cafe wearing a stupid blond wig. 

“Of course.” He murmurs, suddenly feeling a buzz in his pocket. “Who’s that?” You nosily inquire, resting your head on his shoulder. “Probably an email.” He ignores the device. 

Jayce deadpans, in disbelief due to being ignored. Sending another text but this time to your phone. 

You didn’t bring it though, leaving it in your classroom in the top drawer of your desk. “Do you think Jayce and Vi know finally?” You suddenly question your boyfriend, still leaning on him as you ate your food. “It’s a little surprising that they haven’t already, you’re very touchy.” He pokes fun at you. “You love it~” You lift your hands up, showing them off to prove your point. 

Jayce has an upset expression, being ignored by you as well. Neither of you are even peeking at your phones. He stands up from his spot, Vi silently freaking out the closer he gets to the happy couple. The pair had agreed not to confront them but the brunette couldn’t stop himself. 

His body is already standing in front of your table. The two of you glance up at him, you give a smile. “Hey, Jayce! I didn’t know you came here!” You cheerfully say, lifting your head from Viktor’s shoulder. He frowns at the loss of warmth. Jayce is confused by your lack of… shock? Not pulling away from one another.

“Is that Vi?” Viktor points towards the window tables. The girl melted into her seat in embarrassment. You wave at her, motioning for her to join the conversation.

“You two are dating?” 

“Mhm, for 7 months.” You proudly state. 

Violet and Jayce’s jaws slack open. “Why did you never tell us!?” Vi’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “You never asked.” Viktor shrugs his shoulders and you giggle. “We didn’t think it needed to be a conversation. Keeping it professional at work.” You explain further. 

Jayce and Vi sit in the booth across from the both of you, basically inviting themselves. “We’re in relationships, we could’ve been going on triple dates!” Jayce pretends to be angry. Viktor scrunches his nose. “Not happening.” 

“Awe, why not?” Vi juts out her bottom lip. “Well, you two were spying on us. Were you not?” Your partner gives them a straight-faced look. Their faces begin to heat up. “No- we- What? No we weren’t.” Jayce shakes his head, disagreeing with that unbelievable accusation. 

“Why do you have a wig in your pocket?” You lean over to the side, calling attention to the blonde fake hair he had stuffed into his pant pocket. “Vi’s wearing sunglasses and a beanie inside a coffee shop.” Viktor blinks. She rips them off, her hair lifting from the static. 

“Okay, whatever, you caught us.” She grumbles, sneakily snatching your sandwich and taking a bite of it. You glare at her to which she just mumbles out a half-assed apology. 

For the rest of your guys’ lunchtime they asked questions, curious about your relationship. You were more than happy to answer everything as Viktor only butted in a few times when their little interrogation got too personal or inappropriate. 

And once it was time to leave they were rushing to tell everyone that they had figured it out even though mostly everybody knew already.

Mel and Caitlyn especially. They were actually one of the first people to find out in the first few weeks of you two dating. 

Their lovers were just a little… slow. 

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

I think I'm going to make an actual story of this au with Viktor as the love interest if anyone would be interested in that!

Edit- I made a college student au ☝️

[fushiguro-megloomy]

request: [modern au] headcannons for childhood friends to lovers  pairing: viktor x gn!reader tags: nothing bad, very sfw, fluffy notes: ill be so for real with you i feel like i'm very weak at doing headcannons ;-; but i tried. i hope this is what you were looking for anon <3 divider from enchanthings-a

You’d known Viktor for as long as you could remember, his house across the street from yours. As a curious kid, you’d often linger while he tinkered with small projects, asking questions. Your friendship really solidified one summer when your bike broke, and Viktor fixed it with surprising enthusiasm. To repay him, you let him ride on the handlebars while you scooted him around the neighborhood.

He's absolutely critiquing your work before the teachers even get their hands on it. Sitting beside you at your desk clump, thick eyebrows pulled together and scribbling little “???” or just straight up “no” in the margins of your handwriting. You always glare at him but you're secretly grateful. 

He's observant, if you were hungry or tired he would wordlessly slide snacks onto your desk. He's not the best with social queues, but he knows when you're upset and he'll hover around you awkwardly until he blurts some random fact or sarcastic comment meant to distract you.

He's easily jealous, but in the way that he gets pouty, throwing himself into projects and denying anything is even wrong.

Definitely getting into squabbles all the time bickering like an old married couple

He's always gave you something handmade for your birthday. You still have it all. He's not big on his own birthdays but you always bring him a homemade cupcake.

This is not an original thought but he's definitely a gossip, ESPECIALLY as you grow into teen-hood. Not outwardly, but still he would unleash all his unfiltered opinions onto you, and his face definitely gives him away when he's silently judging someone. Mans got a wicked side eye.

Viktor had taken over his parents’ garage as his workshop, and it quickly became your second home. Most of your free time was spent perched on a stool, watching him work or pestering him with questions. You fell asleep there so often that he eventually squeezed a secondhand couch into the tiny space, insisting you needed somewhere more comfortable to crash.

You're each other's first kiss, but it doesn't happen until senior year. You're in his garage, complaining about never having kissed someone and he's like alright so let's kiss??? Things spiral from there.

“I mean, what kind of tragic story is that?” you grumble, tossing a pillow at him. “Eighteen and never kissed anyone. I’ll be the cautionary tale for future students.”  Viktor chuckles softly but doesn’t look up from his work. “I don’t see what the rush is. It’s not as if it matters.” “It matters to me,” you insist, sitting up. “Don’t you want to at least know what it’s like?” He stared at you for a moment, then let out a sigh, setting his tools aside. “Alright, then.” You blinked at him, confused. “Alright what?” He stepped closer, hands slipping into his pockets as he looked down at you. “Let’s kiss.” Your heart skipped a beat. “What?!” “You’re complaining about it, so, we kiss, you stop worrying about it, and we both move on. Simple.” His voice was steady, but the faint pink rising to his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re serious?” you asked, sitting up straighter. “Unless you’re too scared.” That did it. “I’m not scared,” you snapped, standing to face him. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath against your lips. “Then stop talking.” Before you could come up with a retort, his lips pressed against yours, soft and careful. It was brief but left you reeling, your heart pounding as he pulled back. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head. “That should suffice, no?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter. “Yeah… yeah, I guess it’ll do.” He smirked, turning back to his workbench, though the tips of his ears were unmistakably red. “You’re welcome.” It was just a kiss, you told yourself. But as you sat back down, touching your lips absentmindedly, you couldn’t help but wonder why your heart was still racing.

©lilsworks 2024

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 1 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (3.4k)

WARNINGS: descriptions and dealings of recreational drugs (weed), little bit of swearing, slight sexual themes and lots of shameless flirting. THIS IS A MODERN AU!!

A/N: the first part is here and I’m so excited!! Im still unsure how many parts this is going to be, but there’s a lot I want to happen in this series so probably (I’m guessing!!) six or seven, but we’ll see!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your patience was wearing thin. Very fucking thin. Those three grey dots mocked you as they bubbled at the bottom of the screen—disappearing and reappearing again—until they were replaced with another less than satisfying message.

Brandon: are you taking the piss? Why didn’t you just ask when you were here earlier?

You scanned the message over, swallowing back the groan at the idea of another potential argument. You needed to nip his attitude in the bud, you weren’t entertaining his bullshit anymore. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, your fingers quickly typed a response.

You: I didn’t realise I was out until I got home. Can you get any or not? Just lmk

The dots appeared again after a few moments of silence, and you prepared yourself for the snarky remark he was most likely to give you, and took a deep breath to compose yourself in advance.

Brandon: no. I can’t get you any. Sort it out yourself for once.

There was no way in Hell you were going to let your frustrations show. Despite the pure anger and annoyance that began to bubble even more within you.

Brandon could be a lot of things. A liar. A cheat. And a fucking asshole. In all honestly, the only thing he was truly good for was the occasional above par fuck and the fact that his dealer had the best weed you’d ever smoked.

But when they were the only two good things he had going for him, it was hard to justify the disgusting behaviour he showed throughout almost your entire relationship. You broke up every few weeks as it was, but if you’d known about the cheating before, you would’ve left for good sooner.

Instead, you found out a year and half into the relationship, coming to the deafening conclusion that he had, in fact, never been faithful for a single moment of his adult life.

Fuck him. And fuck his shit sex. The weed, you could get yourself.

You: lmao ok. What’s his number?

A heartbeat after he read the text, he was calling you. And the moment you answered the call, he was his usual, un-charming self.

“What the fuck do you mean what’s his number?”

“Hello to you, too.” You murmured, tucking yourself under the blanket on your couch.

His clipped tone didn’t startle you, didn’t worry you about any form of consequences. He wasn’t scary, even when he tried to be. He was just a douche.

“What do you mean what’s his number?” He repeated himself, that agitation growing thicker and thicker with every word he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to get any?”

“Find your own dealer.”

He was being bitter now, pathetically so. You picked at the aged edges of your book, a novel you’d read five times over but one you couldn’t get enough of. Your love for it could be seen by the fading print of the front cover and the severely broken spine—despite how careful you tried to be with your readings.

“Brandon, I’m not going to find a random dealer. Your Azriel guy has good stuff and I know it’s safe. Besides, me going to the same person as you is not going to affect you in any way.”

He was silent for a moment, mulling over your words. Despite his dreadful personality and lack of love and care and compassion, he knew how little you knew about marijuana. He was the one that taught you to roll, after all.

You’d barely smoked before you met him, and on the rare occasions you did get high, it was usually in the form of gummy edibles your friends had. And you weren’t addicted or reliant on it in any way. You just enjoyed a smoke every now and then if you’d had a long day.

Alcohol had never been your favourite, and you much preferred to feel the chilled buzz from a joint than cradle a hangover for two days after a soirée.

“Fine. I’ll text you his number. Say Marco gave it to you, it’s a code he made up—had cops on him a while ago. He can be a bit of an ass, don’t let him shit talk you. Ask for a 3.5, he usually charges 40 for it. It’ll last you a couple weeks unless you’re planning on smoking heavy.”

It was easy to be pulled back in when he was like that. When he did the bare minimum of offering advice on things he knew you weren’t too sure on. But you were better than that now, smarter. You weren’t going to fall back into your old ways again.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I’m not. Thank you.”

The line went dead as soon as the words left your mouth and a few moments later, he texted you Azriel’s number. You would’ve appreciated a reminder of what you were supposed to ask for but at least you got his number. Small wins. You weren’t his responsibility anymore.

It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed and erased, typed and erased. Until you settled on ‘Is this Azriel?’ and finally sent the message.

Ten minutes passed and you didn’t get a response. Your nose was tucked back into your romance novel as you chewed on the drawstring of your hoodie. In all honesty, you could’ve quite easily slipped into a peaceful slumber under the warm golden glow of your lamps.

That was another thing Brandon couldn’t respect. Your No Main Light rule. The vibes were always immaculate with gentle warmth from lamps. The main light was not allowed on under any circumstances. You much preferred the cosy feeling of golden hues that accentuated the deep green leaves of your plants and vines that scattered the walls and crevices of your home.

Your phone chimed from your lap, a small surge of anxiety pulsing in your chest. You unlocked the screen and read over the message.

Azriel: depends who’s asking.

Ah, Brandon did warn you. You considered fucking the whole idea off. Maybe cracking open a bottle of wine and snuggling on the couch with a book or tv show would be better than having to meet this asshole, but the bottle of White Zinfandel wouldn’t give you the mellow buzz you wanted.

Not unless you had at least four glasses which was usually paired with a hangover the next day. Something you did not want to entertain. So, you bit the bullet and typed your reply.

You: y/n, got your number from Marco. You about?

The more you let your mind wander, the more you realised how little you knew. You had no clue how this sort of thing worked. Would he come to you? Your home? Would you meet at a location of his choice? Or would he just stash the weed somewhere for you to collect and you don't cross paths at all?

But the burning fire of the what-if anxiety was quickly trampled and extinguished when another text came through and instead of him deciding for you, you were given choices.

Azriel: sure, I can meet you at old tower in 20 if that’s good for you? If not I can drop to your location.

He didn’t seem as much of an ass now. No, quite the opposite. But you supposed that offer was something he probably gave to all new, female clients. If he truly was an ass or not, you couldn’t fault him for the consideration.

Old Tower was the old old watermill tucked slightly away in the centre of the city. It had been derelict for years, but due to its location—so close to all the necessities and right opposite the police station—no one ever tried to break in or set it alight like the many other derelict listed buildings had been in the past.

Even now, at almost midnight, that part of the city would still be bustling with city-natives and tourists alike. And you appreciated the safe and public meeting spot he suggested.

You: old tower in 20 is fine.

As quickly as you sent the message, you received another reply. A text describing his blue Mustang and his licence plate. You shook the nerves off as soon as they came. Azriel was respectful and well known. He dealt to make his money and that was that.

But the facts didn’t stop you from sharing your location with Brandon just in case, nor did it stop you from double checking you still had your little pepper spray clipped to your keychain.

The walk to the Old Tower wasn’t a bad one. There were many ways you could access it, most of them leading you through the city, but here were a few that hid you behind back roads and alleyways—those were routes you never took. Not on your own and certainly not in the middle of the night.

The air was still a bit sticky from the summer heat, and while the denim shorts you wore kept your body cool, you were grateful you kept on your hoodie—just that extra layer that protected your arms and shoulders from the chill of the breeze that your legs never seemed to experience.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the Old Tower, and it took even less time to spot the electric blue 2022 Ford Mustang. Small tufts of white smoke emitted from the exhaust as it sat in its standstill, headlights facing the opposite direction of what you came in, but you could still hear the engine humming from your short distance away.

You double checked the licence plate to the number Azriel texted you, and slowly made your way closer. While you didn’t know much about drop offs, deals, and weed in general, you did know the unspoken rules of picking up. And if you were picking up from someone in a vehicle, most people got inside for a few minutes before leaving.

Azriel must’ve noticed you from the rear view mirror because just as you approached the back of the car, the passenger door opened wide, inviting you in. You sucked in a breath but accepted the invitation, keeping your eyes forward as you settled into the warmth of the leather seat and closed the door shut.

You finally let your body shift and your eyes met his. And you were fucking done for.

You’d never seen a man so strikingly fucking beautiful before. He was tall, lean and muscular and oozed pure sex and charisma. Tan, golden skin and dark, luscious hair that swept loosely down his forehead and curled gently around the tops of his ears.

His face was chiselled not too sharply, a subtle gentleness to the stark contrast of the cold, brooding aura he carried. And those eyes. Christ, those fucking eyes. Hazel iris’ that dripped with a golden hue of honey.

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and willed your lips to part so you could finally speak. “Thank you for meeting me so late.”

And Azriel was absolutely hooked.

When you’d texted barely thirty minutes ago, he did not expect to be meeting with someone so fucking gorgeous. Your soft hair was twisted in a loose braid that hung over your shoulder, wayward strands having fallen from the updo and framing your face mesmerizingly.

Your eyes were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen; rich in colour and wide with slight anxiety, despite the sleepiness he could slightly notice beneath them. Your voice sounded like a fever dream. It wasn’t sickly sweet like most women he knew or dealt to. Perhaps it was just the sleep, but there was a rasp—a very slight ruggedness—in your tone and Azriel was certain he’d never heard something quite so sensual in his life.

He cleared his throat, that all too cheeky grin teetering on the corners of his mouth. “I was already out,” he shrugged, nonchalantly. “How much are you after?”

His voice was a perfect blend of sweet and rough. A deep depth to his tone that skipped hand-in-hand with a sweeter note. God, he was unreal, and the sound of him had you forgetting entirely what exactly Brandon told you to ask for.

You pulled your lips between your teeth and offered a very sheepish—but mostly embarrassed—smile. “Um… I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologising for the second time tonight. “My ex used to do this part, so I have no idea how this works.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks at your own admission, couldn’t handle being the subject of his firm gaze, and you absolutely could not fucking handle the soft rumble of rich laughter that chuckled through him.

“Do you smoke a lot?” Azriel finally asked, a slightly amused smile on those full lips of his. His pink tongue swiped out to wet them and your heart thundered against your ribcage at the sight.

“Not really,” you cleared your throat. “Just every now and then. Semi-regularly, I guess.” There was no such thing as semi-regularly when it came to drugs and alcohol. To someone’s own self, sure. But not the general mass that consumed whatever it was they did.

Some considered three joints a day ‘semi-regular’, while others considered it as a joint every few days. Azriel had a feeling you were the latter, but he didn’t say anything about his thoughts or what you’d said.

Instead, he hummed and chewed at the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t laughing at you or your lack of knowledge or understanding. Usually, he’d have kicked a new client out of his car by now and told them to figure it out on their own—he was a dealer, not a fucking private tutor—but with you, he didn’t seem to mind explaining or breaking things down so it was easier to understand.

Neither of you quite understood why he was happy to explain, but you didn’t complain. You’d much prefer this than the alternative version of him that you’d been warned about.

“A 3.5 would probably be best for you, then.” He decided.

Yes, a 3.5… that sounded very familiar. You nodded, slowly, considering your next words carefully. You had already disclosed the most embarrassing part of not having a fucking clue how this worked, one more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of your neck. “But can you break that down in joint terms?”

Azriel laughed again, softer this time, through a breath. It was odd, really. He wasn’t laughing to be cruel or to embarrass you further. It seemed to you that perhaps he found it endearing—your innocence on the matter—and maybe, just maybe, you reminded him of himself when he too at one point, had no idea either.

“It depends on how strong you have them. Do you smoke blunts or just joints?”

Your eyes widened animatedly. “God, no. Just joints. I think a blunt might wipe me out.”

A glint of warmth and light fluttered through his eyes for a split second. “So, a 3.5 would get you like seven joints.”

“Yeah, that would last me like a week, two weeks.” You nodded. “I’ll have a 3.5 then, thank you.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, and it was only when he reached for the centre console and flipped open a compartment that you saw his hands. His golden skin was marred beyond belief, etched in burns and an array of pigmented colours. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not from fear or pity or disgust, no. Your stomach twisted in agony, your brain couldn’t comprehend a reason for scars like that.

You looked away as quickly as you clocked them, not wanting to stare and not wanting him to notice. You supposed he was used to lingering gazes, but you would not be a name added to that list of people.

Azriel did nothing but make you feel comfortable in the brief few minutes of meeting one another. He was kind enough to not laugh in your face and kick you out of his car after your admittance. You were not about to make him feel uncomfortable either.

He pulled out a small plastic baggie stuffed to the brim with forest green nuggets and handed it to you between two scarred, pinched fingers. You took it gratefully, a full and genuine smile on your lips now as you thanked him, reaching into the back pocket of your denim shorts for the cash.

“Did you want me to roll them for you, too?” Azriel’s teasing voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes snapped to him with a stern look. “‘Cause that’ll cost you extra.”

“I know how to roll, thank you.” You bit back, and while your voice and tone held all the conviction, the amused glint in your eye and the corners of your mouth told him he hadn’t offended you in the slightest.

“It’s twenty-five.” Azriel chuckled from beside you.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled out two twenty’s, meeting his gaze again. “Isn’t it usually like forty?”

The air now smelt of that tangy, vile scent, something that you don’t think you’d ever get used to. Or enjoy. He shrugged, flipping down the lid of the compartment between you. “You’re a new client.”

You raised a brow now, a taunting smirk creeping at the corner of your mouth. “Do you always undercharge new clients, then?”

Azriel liked you. Very much. You didn’t shy away or hide your personality from him, even after only knowing one another for barely an hour in total. He had a feeling he was barely scraping the surface.

He matched your stare, only he wasn't teasing. “Only the pretty ones.”

There was no hiding the heat that crawled up your neck and sat heavy on your cheeks. It had been a long while since you received a genuine compliment. Let alone one so forward and from someone so unexpected. You averted your gaze from him, looking at the two twenty’s in your hand. Raising them, you pursed your lips.

“I only have two twenty’s on me. So you may as well take the full forty.”

Azriel didn’t listen. Instead, he pinched one note from your hand, his skin brushing yours but you didn’t falter, didn’t shy away. He was warm, and despite the scars and marred skin, his skin was softer than you expected.

You huffed, not ungrateful for the discount but this was his livelihood and taking away from that felt wrong to you.

“Let me know when you’re out.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded, stuffing the bag and cash into your hoodie pocket and reaching for the door handle. “I will. Nice to meet you, Azriel.”

He watched you climbed out of the car, offering another warm smile as the cooler evening air kissed at his skin. He wanted to ask how you were getting home, if you’d be walking alone or if you needed a ride. But Azriel couldn’t cross those lines, especially not with someone he only just met.

So he bit his tongue and prayed to the Mother above to get you home safely. “You too, Y/N.”

He started up the engine again as soon as the door closed, but he didn’t drive away. He watched you through the rear view mirror until you were out of sight and when he finally looked down, he found his jeans tight around his crotch and a painful erection.

“Fuck.”

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[hiraethwrote]

❝ AND I SIMPLY BLEND IN WITH THE WALLPAPER ❞

[ satoru gojo x f!reader]

♬ ₊˚. insp: wallpaper - megan cromwell

✧ summary: witnessing satoru with his new girlfriend, eight months after your breakup ✧ cw: angst, no comfort, attending a party, college au ig, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 2.2k

part 1 - part 2

“Don’t want to alarm you babe, but you-know-who just walked in.” You turned your head to confirm her warning, and sure enough, there he was. Satoru, handsome as ever.

So many months you had desperately tried to stitch together the heart he obliterated into tiny pieces, but there mere sight of him had the badly sewn stitches tear apart at the seams.

He looked happy — genuinely happy, with his familiar grin spread across his face to expose his adorable dimples and creasing his eyes.

And at his arm was her.

His new girlfriend, absolutely stunning as well. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was tailor made for him. Craftily put together into the perfect girl who just fit beside him.

The way things were now, you knew you could never escape him. Not entirely. As long as you attended the same college, and had the same friends, you were destined to cross paths. And when that happened from time to time, you were just reminded of the gaping void he’d left in you.

But at the end of the day, you guess you were just glad you had friends after it all — even though those friends were his, first and foremost. But you were grateful that they had decided to remain at your side to some degree after they all had watched your relationship with their best friend crash and burn eight months ago.

“Hey,” Shoko broke your stare, drawing the attention to her. “Don’t let him ruin your evening, ‘kay? You’ve been doing great lately. Let’s just keep it that way!” She tried to give you a happy smile, but she didn’t manage to conceal how it was filled to the rim with pity.

“Yeah. Sure, it’s whatever.” There was an awkward pull of your tight lips. By letting her gaze flitter across your entire face, she could easily tell that it was in fact not ‘whatever’.

You wanted to shake off that horrible feeling that was sprouting in you, but it seemed like the universe had other plans. Because when Satoru suddenly came walking over, girlfriend right behind him, all the air immediately disappeared from your lungs.

“Hey guys,” he said cheerfully. You hated the fact that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your eyes travel down his arm before it settled on his hand that was interlocked with her fingers in a tight and caring grip — like he was never planning on letting go.

Everyone’s eyes were on you. Everyone’s but his.

They could all feel the tension, the incredibly uncomfortable atmosphere of having to share the same space as the two of you — made worse by the fact that Satoru was acting as if you were just another acquaintance.

His gaze only grazed you when travelling the crowd, just like it did when he looked at the others. There were no signs of him even recognising that the two of you shared an intimate past, your theory reinforced as his hand let go of hers to move it to a loving grip on her waist.

The suffocating lump in your throat only grew as he kept chatting about all and everything. The conversation went smoothly within the group, watching intently as he talked with his friends with such ease, while you simply stood there. You might as well have disappeared into the wallpaper and he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I’m just going to get some air,” you whispered to Shoko with a sad smile, not waiting for a response before you turned around completely to step out on the terrace in hopes to clear your head.

The fresh air greeted you like an old friend, serving some comfort while your mind was taking you down a dark path of ‘what if’s.

What if you had put up more of a fight that night eight months ago? If you’d followed him out the door instead of standing in a puddle of your own tears as you just watched him close the door in your face?

What if you could have prevented it? If there were signs along the way that you missed, and if you’d picked up on them in time you could have stopped him from leaving you?

There was, however, one ‘what if’ that was answered tonight.

What if it had nothing to do with you, and Satoru simply didn’t want to be in a relationship — seeing him tonight, with his hand resting reassuringly around her middle like he used to hold you, proved that was not the case.

Watching him shower her with affections of a boyfriend, you felt as if you were being abandoned all over again. It was utterly selfish, but you wanted for those romantic actions to be reserved for you only. For the loving smiles he bore to be directed at you again. You missed having his heavenly blue eyes stare deeply into yours, while you let your fingers brush through his soft, white locks. You wanted all that back, but it seemed like it wasn’t meant to be for you after all.

You turned around to see if he was still hanging around your friends by the kitchen island, if it was safe for you to return without having to feel as if you were only in the way. A sense of relief crept up on you when all you saw was Shoko and Utahime waving for you to come back inside, eagerness smeared on their faces for you to hang with them.

“How you holding up?” Utahime asked, draping a comforting arm across your shoulders before giving you a soft squeeze, pulling a sad chuckle from your lips.

“You know, it’s been eight months. I gotta let it go, right?” You said, looking between the two knowing it was a naive thought that you spoke, but it was at least a step in the right direction. “He’s dating again, which he is obviously allowed to. Maybe I should jump on that trend as well!”

“Aah, love the sound of that,” she gushed before placing a wet kiss on your cheek. “Satoru was never worth it anyways.” You playfully shoved her off you with a small laugh, as you desperately tried to wipe it away.

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve said-“

The universe had to stop.

You were abruptly interrupted when no other than the man himself, simply breezed right past you. His arm just barely grazing yours as he passed, but it didn’t even faze him that you were standing right there.

Again, you let your eyes follow him as he hurriedly approached his girlfriend before wrapping his arms around her with haste, lifting her up in a tight embrace, her cute squeals finding their ways to your ears even through the music and sounds of the party.

This was just cruel — pure torture. As if you’d been given front row tickets to the show dedicated to your pain. Couldn’t the end credits just start rolling? Couldn’t the curtains close? Why was it fair for this scene to play out just a few feet in front of you?

And oh, how he gazed at her, as if she was the only girl in the world. Looking at them, one couldn’t even begin to think he’d ever had feelings for someone else prior to being with her.

Your hands turned numb, your heart beating so loud it was all you could hear. It even tuned out both Shoko and Utahime’s pleading attempts as drawing your attention elsewhere.

Gently tearing away from their grip, you ignored them calling your name as you ran up the stairs and entered the first door you came across. There was not a single ounce of care for who the bedroom belonged to, but it was empty. Along with the door, you shut the party out, now able to hear your own thoughts.

It came crashing over you, the sadness overwhelming you in an instant. Your hand found its way over your mouth as a loud and sharp sob came flying out of you. Taking a seat on the neatly made bed, you desperately tried to choke them back, drying the tears as soon as they fell from your eyes in order to try and save your makeup. When you eventually walked out that door again, you didn’t want anyone to be able to tell you’d bawled your eyes out seconds before.

For a while now, you had been doing fine, relatively speaking. Did he always manage to pop into your mind one way or another on a daily basis? Yes. But, you were slowly but surely moving on with your life. Even when you heard the news of him and his new girlfriend a month ago, you’d managed to keep it together until you were alone in your dorm that same evening.

But it was something about seeing them together, how his hands caressed her so gently like he worshipped her, was too much for your poor heart. There was only so much a girl could take.

Your sobs were quickly strangled in your throat when the door swung open.

“Oh, sorry thought this was the bathroom- hey, you okay?”

Of course… of course she had to be the one to walk in on you in the midst of your sorrowful breakdown, her name unwillingly parting your lips.

She was even prettier now, without all the distortion and disturbance of the party around her. Someone could have told you she was Aphrodite reincarnated, and you would believe them in a second. But it wasn’t just her physical beauty that radiated. She had something about her, a warmth nearly uncanny, destined to grab the attention in any room she walked into.

Her eyes rested on you, and you could swear you saw a flash of remorse gloss over them — she knew who you were. She knew you were his ex, but god knew what that entailed.

“Yeah!” You sniffled weakly. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.” You tried to chuckle, finally able to tear your gaze away from her to look down in your lap.

“I can imagine.” Her voice was dripping with true compassion. “If you wanna talk…”

“Thank you, I’m good.” You hated how bitter you sounded. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and from what you’d heard she was just a very sweet person all around.

“I’ll see you around?” You didn’t think she meant for it to sound like a question, but you had just managed to make her uncomfortable enough to the point where she didn’t have anything better to say to you.

Once you heard the door shut, hot, quiet tears started to fall from your eyes again as your mind began to wonder.

It had already been a month since they started dating — how well did she really know Satoru?

Did she know him like you did already? His secrets, like how he had a secret stash of sweets at the top of his wardrobe, because he was the only one who could reach it? Or his flaws, like how he tended to shy away when things turned rough? If you were to sit down with her, would you be able to tell her more about her boyfriend than she could?

As the constant spiralling continued, you knew you couldn’t stay here anymore. There was not a chance you’d enjoy the evening as long as these were the circumstances — watching them stare at each other with nothing but pure adoration in their eyes.

Running back down the stairs, you heard Shoko immediately call your name. “Don’t leave,” she pleaded as she came rushing over, tugging at your arm.

“I can’t stay here,” you said in a low voice, avoiding her gaze in hopes it would allow you to leave faster.

“No, please! You can’t let him do this!”

“I’m not.” A sound that was supposed to be a chuckle, but resembled more like a sob, slipped out of you. “It’s just… I talked to her. I don’t know, I just can’t look at them. Not tonight.”

When you finally found it in you to meet her gaze, you were pleased to tell by the look on her face that she understood. She wasn’t going to force you to stay if you were truly as uncomfortable as you appeared to be, softly giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. We can order some food or something, okay?” You simply nodded weakly, forcing the faintest smile before she turned to join the party again.

One last time, you decided to shoot another look in Satoru’s direction. As expected, he was fawning over her still, the back of his hand grazing her cheek with the lightest touch while the other was intertwined with hers.

Maybe this was for the best.

As much as it pained you to witness it, he looked to be content — as if he was supposed to be with her. And when that breathtaking smile painted his features, you know it was for real. Of course you’d preferred it if it was you who were allowed to make him smile like that, but that wasn’t the case anymore. All you wanted for him, was for him to be happy. So if it was with her, so be it.

And you still love him, so dearly, enough to let him go.

a/n this is short and sad lol love that... this song came on my discover weekly like two weeks ago and had to write something about it so here you go

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[neocrias]

Hiii, how are you going?? (I hope fine).

I was thinking about this a few days ago and didn't hear back, but how do you think SVT members would try to flirt? Like, in a more sensual way, you know??

Hey, sorry for the delay, busy schedule and stuff... We weren't sure if this was what you wanted, so we did it like this. You can send another message if it's different from this.

How does svt flirt

warnings: descriptions; headcanons; gn (mostly) reader self insert;

pairings: svt x gn reader

gender/aus: fluff; slightly suggestive

Scoups

He's a total show-off. During the meeting, gathering, party, or whatever you're at, he just won't let you look at anyone else, because he'll make sure he's saying something, looking or being more attractive. Cheol will flex his muscles if it makes you pay attention only to him, and when (not “if”, when!) he catches you looking at him with those hooded eyes, he's gonna raise his thick eyebrows in pure arrogance. Seungcheol can't help it, he knows how he looks like, and he'll always use that in his favor.

Jeonghan

Probably, if Jeonghan is really invested into taking you tonight, he'll start making sly comments. "Oh, poor you, not really enjoying the party, hm?" "Bet you'll enjoy something else more..." or maybe just "I could give you some fun". I mean, being a bit mischieveous is one of the things he does best, so he's absolutely playing that game when it comes to flirting too. Probably plays a lot with his own hair in front of you. Probably is going to play a lot with your hair, too.

Joshua

Slight eyebrow movements, inumerous hand gestures, a lot of leaning towards you. Joshua is just a master of body language and he will certainly make good use of that when he wants you. Of course you'll notice when he's suddenly very close, almost towering over you, but it'll be so subtle that you won't be able to point out when exactly that happened. That, combined with his swift hand gestures as he speaks, as well as the soft tone he's using with you will do it. At this point, it's just natural for him to flirt like that.

Jun

Will absolutely use his good boy persona to get it. I'm talking gentleman acts but full of an unusual confidence that makes anyone's heart flutter. He will do all those manly acts such as opening your bottle and the door of the car, and he will certainly say some romantic things, pointing out how incredibly beautiful you are. Jun might as well just pull up a Romeo card out of his sleeve and say that your eyes are sparkling and all that stuff. Next thing you know, you're in his bed. Guess all that smooth talk worked on you, ha.

Hoshi

Do you like stereotypes? Well… I love it and will follow Hoshi’s biggest stereotype. he will take you dancing and will make sure your bodies are as close as possible. You will be able to feel his breath hitting your neck and Hoshi will make sure to brush his lips against your cheek to make you shiver – I won’t even mention how tightly he presses his hands against your hips…

Wonwoo

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Wonwoo is a romantic guy. BUT he’s also a low-key guy. I don’t see Wonwoo being the biggest fan of pda, so maybe he’ll slip his hand into your back pocket, pulling you closer to him, your shoulders bumping against his as he subtly nuzzles into you and leaves a peck or two on your cheek and shoulder. You’ll know he’s needy the moment you feel his arms snake around your back.

Woozi - (edited)

Don't ever mistake Jihoon's quietness with lack of attitude. He's the type to be certain about what he wants - and who he wants. So, when trying to flirt, Woozi will probably be very direct and straightfoward. He'll also stay close to you, making you feel his whole presence - and is likely to give you compliments throughout the night, from the most subtle to the most heartstopping ones.

Dokyeom

He'll wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against him, and he'll leave lots (LOTS) of kisses on your face. At first, they'll be spaced out pecks on your cheek, but little by little they'll become more frequent and will move down to your neck and shoulder. Dokie seems innocent, but he knows exactly what to do and where to kiss to get what he wants, and he'll smile brightly when he sees your eyes flutter.

Mingyu

He's into the physical type of flirting, so if Mingyu wants you, he's gonna make you know it. His hands will grip your tights pulling you closer to him. His fingers will run along the thin skin of your thigh, scraping his nails to make your skin crawl and give you goosebumps. He'll do this until you show him that you're just as needy as he is, so it won't be hard for you to agree to go home early.

Minghao

I think Minghao might pull an intelligent and collected act in front of you. Of course he wants to impress, and he knows it'll do. He'll start saying some incredibly smart things, and he'll love to see your slightly admired face as he explains something - because it'll mean it's working. Or, if you're able to keep up with his sharp and precise comments, he might as well just fall in love at the spot. Either way, he's getting it.

Seungkwan

You'll know Seungkwan wants something when he starts teasing you more. He'll pinch your waist, push his knee against yours, and stare... He'll try really hard to irritate you because (according to him) you look beautiful when you're angry and when you get tired and finally make a move, the make out sessions always get... better.

Vernon

I'm a strong defender of the Vernon whispering type of flirt. He just knows how to scan the room and he'll know when is the right time to take you quietly and subtly to the side, soft touches and an attentive glare as he licks his lips. When you're both out of others' sights, he'll lean in and whisper softly in your ear. Maybe some "you look so beautiful tonight" or maybe a more direct "should we go somewhere else?". It's effective, it's discreet, and it's hella sexy. Just like him.

Dino

I think Chan might be the type to directly flirt, like, be really honest towards the fact that he wants you. However, he won't do the chasing. As soon as he makes himself clear, he'll give you space and wait for you to reciprocate. He just loves to have you going for him, and to know that he made such an impact that he just left you there, overthinking and wanting him so much that you ended up taking some initiative yourself.

[shegetsburned]

IS IT THAT SWEET? I GUESS SO. w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡴꪫ

── ask content. “i gotta know, outside of the fwb!shiu au, what are your sfw and NSFW headcanons about him?”

sfw

negligent in keeping a normal sleep schedule, but when you’re with him he’s sleeping like a baby tucked between your breasts, arms wrapped around your lower waist, almost drooling on your shirt and you’ve never seen him this relaxed. he comes home late and just drops on you, easily drifting to sleep two minutes later.

a very well hidden case of chronic stress. he’s working a dangerous job with dangerous clients, which couldn’t be more stressful— even more when his client’s a greedy fool who kills teenagers. shiu has worked in the field enough time to make it unseen, but his stress level is constantly on a high, and guess who he goes to when it’s too much.

nonchalantly allows you to spend his money. he’s greedy with anyone else but you. you’ve got the password for his card and he’s even bought a credit card to your name in case anything happens. 'y/n kong' is written on the backside, with a more-than-generous credit limit.

makes time for you even with his fucked up schedule. he’s taking you out on expensive dates just to watch you parade in that pretty little dress he bought you days prior. it’s often 4-5 stars restaurants or breathtaking views.

he’s leaving early in the morning and doesn’t want to wake you up? there are flowers on the counter with a sweet note. you fell asleep waiting for him when he works late? beautiful flowers in the room when you wake up. you’re pissed at him for some stupid shit he did? no, you’re not. not when you’ve got flowers in your hands and he’s taking you to your favourite restaurant to make up for your stupid argument.

nsfw

knows how to properly enjoy every women’s features. he’s an ass and a boobs man, but also a thighs, waist, shoulders, eyes and lips man. he’s attracted to every part and shows his undeniable obsession when his hands travel from your hips to your back and to the nape of your neck to your sweet lips.

loves fucking you from behind. the sweat dripping from the curve of your back all the way to the flesh of your ass does things to him. while he plants his nails around your waist to steady the pace, he can’t help but get a mental picture of the addictive features of his beautiful girl.

takes a puff between kisses and blows the smoke into your mouth, intoxicating you further with the euphoric taste.

shiu ‘just one last time’ kong, but the next thing you know, he’s got you in a nasty mating press, ready to fuck his cum into you and bring both of you to yet another orgasm.

he’s truly obsessed. when he comes back home, he barely has removed his jacket when he cages you in the corner of the room, his hand buried under your shirt with a cocky smirk. he doesn’t remove anything but lower his pants and it’s sloppy and rough when he fucks into you.

the most silent man ever, but when he does make sound, it might be what finishes you right off. it’s guttural groans and heavy breathes against the crook of your neck.

he insist you speak his name, though. the quivering word that come out of your puffy lips leaves his cock pulsating. he definitely gets hard from it.

cigarettes. after. sex.

@honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe for being equally if not more obsessed over the man as i am <𝟑

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[yuukirita]

So about Killing B-127

Imma be honest- actually no one told me NOT to do this.

https://www.tumblr.com/yuukirita/764457936468754432/two-bumblebees?source=share (the og post were I talked about this)

So imma do it- HOWEVER. It won't be in the main DeceptiBee au. I might not even write it. But I will DRAW IT. Probably.

You can keep reading the DeceptiBee au and be assured that Bee won't die- but when that fic is done I might do an alternate ending with it where Bee does die- like a series.

But i'll write it in a way You don't need to read the previous fic to understand what's happening. That first chapter is gonna recap and compress the story and it won't reff the previous fic other than 'Bee was a decepticon who died'

I guess that Au would be called 'SecondBee au' or 'TwoBees au' since theres another one. idk i'm bad at names.

So about this Au, it's in the tfone continuity. Where Bee choose to follow megatron when he got banished. He died. War raged on and then another Bee is forged right before Primus peaces out. And then a lot of bad things happen to him C:

I don't remember which continuity Tfone is attached to (it can't be the bayverse don't lie to yourself) but Imma say that the endgame to this is Earthspark (because it's the happiest ending we're getting so far) so I might even write to that part because since new bee and megatron are on the same side now I smell some good sad times.

What do we think? does any of this make sense to yous?

Does this make you exited? Dreadful? Tired?

If you stumble upon this and you want to make your own- feel free (and give me the fragging link so I can read it) Bee doesn't even need to be a decepticon before he dies. Endless possibilities.

P.S. no telling when I'll be making content for that Au cuz I'm working on deceptibee rn- Next chapter is out tomorrow. hug hug

P.P.S. Just a small- SMALL look at what this au could be

Megatron could not believe his optics. In front of him, on the screen, stood a scout, painted yellow, with horns, an autobot logo were a deceipticon brand should be. The same, the same, optics he'd seen fade in front of his very own. He'd been caught on camera and Shockwave had given him the footage.

"He. Replaced. Him." His servos balled into fists "Another usurper." When would Primus cease taking his fallen friends and produce failed facsimiles to torture him with? After all this time...

It only justified his actions further. He would not be deceived.

[bunny-jpeg]

hiii ! how are u? I would like to order a pastry braid and english muffin with a side of tonic water, w max verstappen

thank uu x

bakery menu!!

want to suggest your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to choose from. i am working through the suggestions after a slight break so i will be posting them more often. updates usually go up fridays to sundays at 6pm est! i hope you enjoy this little fic! this is set in the team principal au (which usually happens with a max age gap fic) but it's not connected to the rest of the tp au that i have going, just it's own little thing! <3

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work." + english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?" + tonic water: age gap served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), crying (kink), rough sex, power dynamics, doggy style, max has high expectations for his driver, degrading language, possessive behavior

insatiable. that was what max would describe himself in relation to you. what he was when you were near. he was hungry for trophies, wins and most of all your sweet cunt. max had expected to leave the track years ago, but how could he? he had a re purpose, to make you a champion.

but even wills made of iron couldn't deny your appeal. how you looked in your fire proofs, the look you got when you lost of received a plenty, and the opposite look you gave when you tasted sweet victory. if max was the lion, then you were the wolf.

regardless, max still held power over you and you when he held your cheeks in one hand to face him, a domineering look in his eyes. he held you like he owned you, and with all those zeroes on your contract. he did in a way.

his arms wrapped around you and held you to his chest. in a moment of private after the grand prix, he held you the way a lover would. he couldn't help but take a quick grab of your breasts. you wined in response and max simply smiled.

"not the best," he said in your ear, "i counter five errors in your driving, on top of letting the williams' driver over take you for ten laps. i'm sorry, my price, you know what that means."

you nodded, "yes, sir. i understand." then shifted a little in his touch which only made him hold onto you tighter. you swallowed, even though you won the trophy, tonight wouldn't be about celebrating. it would be about punishment.

max's hotel room was next to yours, and you barely closed the door before he was trying to get your t-shirt off. large hands groped your breasts over your bras and he groaned into your neck.

"fuck, baby." he said, tension in his voice, "you could've been celebrating with the team, but instead you have to deal with the punishments." he pulled your bra over your head and grabbed your chest.

max liked your breasts, he loved how easy the skin bruised when he gave them too much attention. you ended up on the bed with max stripping you of your calvin klein jeans. he saw your exposed thighs, and the tattoo on your hip. lucky number thirty-three. max's old number.

he did have a claim over you, the kind of claim that not even a scandal could break. oh the media circus that would ensue if people found out about you two. if they found out you were fucking max, then max guessed he'd just have to marry you. not a big deal, he had a ring picked out and everything.

"you know what we have to do tonight. your job is to make me cum. now get to work." and soon your panties were pulled off and left on the edge of the bed. he started to strip himself down.

while your face in the pillows and your couldn't see your team principal, you could feel him. the soft of imposing power that left you feeling needy.

"i expect the best from you. you know that. i don't deal with those who aren't willing to push themselves to the best they can be. i know, you can easily be the best. but, i guess there is still a lot i have to teach you." max wasn't like this with any other driver, even if you retired tomorrow, you'd still be his favourite.

he admired your beauty with strokes of his cock. usually there would be a spanking, teasing or maybe a little bondage, but max was still running off the high of racing and he wanted you now. he sank his cock into you like it was his god given right. he was near double your age, but he still fucked you until you were an overstimulated mess.

you whined from the intrusion, you felt sharp pain. max wasn't small by any means. he was rather bulky, the kind of cock that bullied your insides. you felt a shiver of pain as you moaned into the sheets.

"aw, is someone crying?" his words were patronizing as he moved against you quickly. his stamina was still high, he fucked with the force of a bull that often left you feeling bruised inside and out. he had that ability over you. you leave you completely and utterly at his his mercy.

you swallowed, "not crying, sir." and arched your back, but max had you pressed against the bed. his pace only picked up as he rutted up against you.

the thing about max was that he was dominate. and you loved the power he had over you. he easily took you apart and let him make you feel like jelly as he fucked into you.

"you look better on my cock than in a car." he remarked, "better on your knees than the podium." he added as pleasure clouded his head. his thoughts were about how good you felt. how you clenched around him when he hit your g-spot.

you whined and sniffled a little from the ache. you weren't crying. rather whining from the intense feeling. the ache and the pleasure left your nerves feeling tense. you gasped when he hit a particular spot.

max loved when you whined, especially when there were sweet little tears in your ears. his little wolf all teary-eyed because he made you feel too good.

he pace continued and you felt on cloud nine, you sniffles continued and you were left needy for more. it was always more, you always needed more of him. something that max was more than happy to deliver on. how could he deny his driver. even when he thought you did poorly, he still had a soft spot for you.

"mmm, see you're good like this. i could just eat you alive. take you piece by piece. all mind." he chuckled with warmth in his gut, "next time you'll listen to me over the radio and in the garage." he arched your back further and made you feel the zap of pleasure up your spine and in your core.

having your team principal's support meant the world to you, even when you were panting and near crying under him. the pleasure climbed through your body and you felt the surge of want through you.

"please, sir." you arched your back further and your pulse picked up. face buried in the soft pillows while you let your boss fuck you with a heated drive.

he grasped the back of your head and pulled your head further into the pillows and his pace quickened, "you're forgiven. let this not be a lesson you forget." and continued to move against you, fucking you right into the mattress with heavy thrusts of his hips.

he yanked your hair a little and it amde you moan. only he could get away with something like that. yank, bite, slip, no other man could get away with that. but you gave max everything.

the movements continued and you felt amazing. the type of amazing that allowed you to feel to close to orgasm. you tensed up and felt the sweet release as you came. you needed max, you needed him in a way you could never need another.

your boss, your lover, your everything.

his movements left you needy and it wasn't long before you moaned loudly once more around his cock. the pleasure continued to wash through you like heavy waves. and it only made your lover fuck you quicker. max moved against you, near bounced you up and down on his cock. his noises were tense before he slammed every inch into you and finished.

"oh fuck." he groaned.

you gasped and weakly held onto the covers. you couldn't think of anything else besides max. max, max, max, he was the only thought in your head as he slowed to a stop. and then laid on top of you. he rutted his still hard cock into you which made you groan.

"i think there are a few more lessons i could teach you tonight before i really wear you out." those words were said like a promise <3

[moonstruckme]

could i request poly!marauders with reader who has trouble sleeping/insomnia pls? it’s so frustrating not being able to sleep and seeing everyone sleeping and then having a raging head and being exhausted throughout the days,,, just want someone to make the nights a little less stressful :((

Sorry for the long wait sweetness! Thanks for requesting

modern au

poly!marauderes x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You want desperately to know what time it is. With the blackout curtains covering the windows and the digital clock stowed away in the drawer of the nightstand, it’s impossible to guess whether the sun is rising outside or if it’s only an hour past when you went to bed. You honestly have no idea. It feels like you’ve been lying here for an eternity, willing yourself to relax, but in your experience it’s equally likely that ten minutes have gone by. 

It’s that much worse with your boyfriends snoozing all around you. You envy Sirius’ open-mouthed snore. You feel trapped. You want to be sleeping with them but you can’t, so you want them to be awake with you, but waking them would be cruel. When you’d first gone to bed James had held you up against him, but it hadn’t taken long after he’d fallen asleep for him to roll over, unconsciously abandoning you between his and Remus’ backsides. Remus is a light enough sleeper that you know he’ll wake if you try to get out of bed, so you’re stuck here, staring into the formless black of your room, not knowing how much longer you have to endure it. 

Eventually you sit up on your elbow, reaching over Remus to check the time on your phone. Your hand is arrested just above the nightstand. 

“What,” Remus’ voice is croaky. “What’re you doing?” 

You don’t answer, knowing an honest one will only earn you a scolding. Remus rolls over and takes you hand with him. You can just barely see the outline of his head in the darkness, but you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. 

“You know it’s only going to make things worse,” he says quietly. 

“It's worse not knowing,” you whisper. 

Remus sighs, rubbing his thumb into the meat of your palm. Some of your apprehension eases just from having him awake with you. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His voice is barely a murmur, but you can feel James starting to stir at your back. “I still think we have to try what the doctor said for now, okay?” 

He pushes his warm palm flat against yours, coaxing a small “okay” out of you. 

“I can stay up with you.” 

“No,” you say, despite the selfish voice in your head going Yes!. Remus needs more sleep than the rest of you to begin with, and you’re more accustomed to going without it than he is. “That’s okay, you should sleep.” 

You’re bracing yourself for his denial when James rolls over behind you, one big arm wrapping around your front. 

“Hey,” he slurs, “where’d you go?” 

You smother a laugh and Remus makes a similarly amused sound, likely guessing what had really happened. He reaches the hand not holding yours over your head to pet James’ hair. 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” you say softly. 

“Stay put this time, hm?” James replies fondly, giving your middle a squeeze. “Y’supposed to be on cuddle duty.” 

This time you can’t suppress it, and a little giggle escapes you. “Sorry,” you say. 

Remus hums in gentled remonstrance, you’re not sure at whom. 

“You’re all being terribly loud,” Sirius groans, and then there’s a shape leering over James’ head, doubtlessly glowering down at the three of you. “Why are we awake?”

“Someone couldn’t sleep,” Remus murmurs. 

Sirius makes a whiny pitying sound, reaching over James to paw blindly at you. You inhale when his perpetually freezing fingers fumble at your collarbone. James saves you, clasping Sirius’ hand in his own. 

“What else is new,” you try to joke. It comes out sounding more glum than you’d like. “Sorry I woke you guys.” 

“No, don’t be, angel.” James’ hand finds its way underneath your sleep shirt, thumb stroking the skin just above your navel. “We’d rather be awake with you anyway.” 

Sirius makes a sound like he could disagree, but his slender fingers burrow into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp the way he knows you like. You bear the cold for his sake. 

“There’s no point in us all being awake,” you say, though you’re nearly purring from all the loving. “S’not your problem.” 

Sirius tsks. “We’ve been over this, doll. Your problems are ours, too.” 

You hum like Yeah, I know. Sirius takes in a breath like he might say more, but Remus comes to your rescue. 

“Do you want one of us to rub your back, dove?” 

That sounds amazing, actually. But you’re not sure if it’ll help, and you don’t want to put your boyfriends to work if there’s no promise it’ll do anything. “That’s okay,” you say. 

“No, come on.” James is already turning you in his arms. He cozies up to your front, big palm splayed out over your back. “We’re supposed to get you relaxed, right?” 

You nod, and his chest feels warm against your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, though.” 

“That’s okay,” he replies readily. “Let’s just give it a try, yeah?”

You hum, acquiescence inlaid with guilt. From behind James, you hear Sirius chide you quietly (“Stop that”) and you know he’s heard it. James likely does too, but he ignores it, big palm beginning to move in broad, slow circles on your back. You try to help as best you can, relaxing into his hold and shutting your eyes. Even so, you grow tenser with frustration the longer it doesn’t work. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Remus murmurs behind you. His words brush over your nape like a caress. “Relax. Listen to his heartbeat.” 

You nestle your face closer to James’ chest, and he increases the pressure on your back as if to keep you there. You can hear the steady bump-bump of his heart as well as feel it against your cheek, and something about it has a tranquilizing effect on your own. It creates a beat to match the rhythm of his hand gliding along your back, steady and unwavering. You can hear your own breathing matching up to his, Remus’ too. Distantly, you become aware that Sirius is snoring again, but the thought dissipates half-formed. Your limbs feel warm and soft as wax. 

You don’t notice James moving until his lips come down on the top of your head, his palm still wearing its same track into your back. “Love you,” he says. 

You think you echo the sentiment, but you’re too far gone to know for sure.