#a Thing. it can’t give me the love or care or satisfaction with life that i’m looking for. i’ve been hiding on here—escaping reality.

[zorosdimples]

knowing i should take a step back from tumblr for my own wellbeing vs. being emotionally attached to this app and the people on it

[kelseytheballerina]

Reflections on building a better me

Exercise is not optional. Mental satisfaction from completing yet another workout cannot be overstated. Physical satisfaction from feeling good and enjoying your body in clothes, the mirror, and photos cannot be overstated. Stop messing around, stop info hoarding, go exercise. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day.

Looking your best depending on circumstances (ie, casual, dressy, bedtime, etc) is not optional. External confidence from taking care of your appearance top to bottom and loving what you see in the mirror is highly valuable.

You feel better when you eat better. You’re proud of yourself when you eat better.

Hobbies, hobbies, hobbies. Do you feel embarrassed when someone asks what you do all day and you can’t come up with an honest answer that doesn’t make you sound like a loser with no life? You need hobbies. Some that are outdoors, some that are indoors. Some that are taxing, some that are relaxing. You will enjoy life more, become a more well-rounded individual, and have positive ways to spend your time rather than racking up more hours on your phone. Get some hobbies. Plural.

Procrastination and laziness should disgust you. You shouldn’t be able to relate. You should strive to be above that. You like yourself better when you complete your tasks and get things done in a timely manner. You’re proud of yourself when you’re on a roll and have a productive streak. You’re impressed by productive people and no one likes a lazy bum.

Decide what you want from life and pursue it ruthlessly. Don’t take advice from people who don’t have the life you want, unless they were once on your desired path and fell off. Even then, you listen to them when they say what NOT to do (learning from their mistakes) but clearly they don’t know what TO do bc they didn’t make it to the finish line. Take “do this” advice from people who crossed the finish line and have what you want. You’ll find that the amount of input that is actually valuable to you has suddenly dwindled. Good. Less chatter in your ears.

Get yourself in order before you go around critiquing everyone else. Get YOUR face in order. Get YOUR body right. Get YOUR money up. Get YOUR style in order. Get YOUR relationship together.

Stop coming to everyone for validation like a toddler. Validate yourself. Do you like it? Okay then. Are you over it? Okay then. Stop being so weak. Stand tall, lead yourself. Stop being such a follower.

Be a good person. Help your family, lend a hand to strangers, give back, say sorry, do things for loved ones just because, show affection, work things out, watch your mouth, speak respectfully, remember that the world owes you nothing. Stop being an insufferable freak.

You can’t change anyone but yourself. Get yourself in order and be a good role model. That’s all you can do. Give people advice when they want it and then go about your business. Get yourself in order. Get yourself in order.

Outrage content is the lowest form of entertainment. Engage in things that make you happy or educate you. Doom scrolling only leads to doom. Don’t like this person? Don’t click on their articles or videos. Unfollow and block. Don’t like these people? Leave their spaces. You don’t have to be outraged every day.

Always keep your word to yourself. Make a plan, stick to the plan, always deliver. If you can’t be reliable for yourself then who can you be reliable for?

[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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[divinesangel]

— how does your destined person feel about you right now? [detailed]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

current energies: it's quite likely that this person is going through a lot right now, which is causing them to overthink and have so much on their mind. they seem to have been overthinking many things in their life that they’re still trying to figure out. they’re probably talking to others and getting advice, but deep down, they know it’s something they have to work on and figure out on their own. a lot has been weighing on their mind, especially when it comes to connections. it’s likely that they’re ending cycles or bringing closure to situations that have caused them pain or emotional turmoil. they want to put an end to that, and now they’re carrying the burdens that come with closure and moving on. even though it might sometimes feel overwhelming, they understand that this isn’t the end of the world. they believe that better things are ahead, and as long as they stay persistent and know how to play their cards, they’ll get through this. there are many things in this person’s life that they want to move on from because they know it’s not doing them any good, and it’s just affecting their mental health and well-being. these days, they’ve been focusing on taking care of themselves, paying attention to their own feelings and their heart. but sometimes, they feel conflicted about how to feel about certain people. it seems like they’ve gone through some really painful moments with others, and now they’re unsure how to think about it all. part of them craves a sense of justice, wanting those people to get what they deserve. but there’s also a part of them that’s naturally kind, trying to brush it off and move forward.

feelings: this person wants to be with you as soon as possible. they’re really excited to meet you and already have so much love for you. they constantly wonder who their distant person is, what you’re going to be like, how you’ll look, and if you’ll love them as much as they’ll love you. there’s so much affection and tenderness they hold for you, and it’s something they can’t wait to give. they don’t just want to give you their emotional side, but also their material side. they want to provide for you, give you everything you need, and buy you whatever you want. i feel that once you meet, this person will be quick to show you how they feel. they won’t just express it through words or affection but also through actions. this is someone who will make you feel deeply loved and show you just how much you deserve it. they’re very caring, very nurturing, especially when it comes to a connection as strong as yours, which feels almost like a soulmate bond. they’ll feel even more sure about pursuing you and moving forward with you. you make this person feel incredibly stable. when they think of you, there’s this sense that they’re already complete, that they’ve become the person they want to be. the thought of you brings them a deep sense of stability, likely because they already know this connection will be something special. they feel happiness when they think about it, and they know that meeting you will be a turning point in their life. they’re aware that they’re going through some rough patches in their life right now, but the thought of you brings them so much peace. they know that when they finally get to be with you, they’ll find the happiness they’re searching for.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

current energies: this person has been learning to feel more comfortable with themselves and finding contentment with what they have. it seems they’ve recently gone through situations that left them with a sense of lack, and now they’re trying to put the pieces back together. because of this, they’re beginning to realize their potential and finding emotional satisfaction from within, rather than seeking it externally. it’s likely that they’ve had a recent epiphany—a lightbulb moment—that shifted their perspective. they’re determined to leave behind past pains and situations they no longer want to deal with. this self-realization, that they deserve more and deserve to be happy, has sparked active changes in their life. they are very perseverant, and when they want something or are sure about it, they fight for it. they won’t let go unless they no longer feel like pursuing it or something significant happens. i feel like these days this person has been feeling quite confused about whether to pursue certain things or to let them go. it seems like they’re having a hard time distinguishing between what’s worth fighting for and what no longer has a solution. since they’re someone who really believes in fighting for what they want, it clashes with the idea of letting go. however, they’re starting to realize that there are aspects of themselves they need to change before moving forward with something new. right now, they’re in a phase of trying to understand that.

on the other hand, they’re also focused on creating a better environment for themselves, which involves their personal connections and friendships. they’re paying close attention to their circle of friends and acquaintances. it seems like there are some connections that have changed and no longer feel the same. they’re trying to figure out how to take action in this situation and how to let go of these feelings. deep down, they know that to feel better about these connections, they’ll need to let certain people go. overall, they haven’t been feeling their most stable, and they’re working through this to make things work in their favor. i'm hearing they might be attending someone's wedding too.

feelings: this person feels that your connection could be quite life-changing for them. it’s one of the things that draws them to you and makes them feel a deep, perhaps unconscious, attraction. however, when it comes to love, they might not be in the best place right now. they’ve grown up in an environment where those around them may not have been the best influences. because of this, they might have some toxic tendencies or have been involved with toxic people that they still need to move on from.

this awareness makes them think about you a lot. they are very conscious of the people they surround themselves with and the issues they need to leave behind. they worry that you might not like them because of their past or because of who they are now. they often find themselves wondering, "will they leave me once they get to know me better?" or "will they not want me because of my past behavior?" these worries definitely cross their mind whenever they think about you. in their heart, they truly want to give you everything they can, but they wonder if you will view this connection as fair, or if you’ll see their life as one that has been lived fairly. they don’t want to overwhelm you with all these details, so it’s likely they’ll open up to you gradually over time. they know some of their past actions weren’t ideal, and they feel regret and a bit of shame about that. they just hope you’ll still see them in a positive light once they share everything with you.

they’ve already been thinking about becoming the best version of themselves, but they need a bit of support or motivation to fully move out of their current mental state. they’ve been planning how to make these changes, so it’s just a matter of time before they put their plans into action. they’re really looking forward to this connection and have thought about you many times. they’re trying to stay optimistic about your future together and envision the best possible scenario. they’re aiming to avoid any negative thoughts, and they feel that once they’re around you and can communicate more, they’ll be able to express themselves fully and honestly. "i don't want to let them go" is how they'll feel.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

current energies: this person has recently wrapped up a very challenging situation. they’re going through a lot of endings right now, which is a bit uncomfortable for them, but they understand it’s for their highest good. it seems they’ve just ended a connection with someone they cared about deeply. however, they discovered that this person had been deceptive or dishonest, and once these secrets came to light, they decided to cut ties abruptly. this person is very confident and tends to sever connections quickly when they feel wronged or when a situation is no longer beneficial. they don’t dwell on their feelings but focus more on the other person’s actions.

right now, they’re very practical and are concentrating on their stability and finances. they seem to be working hard on a project or business venture that’s aimed at increasing their financial security. this project might be in its early stages but has been on their mind for some time, or it's an idea they’ve wanted to bring to life for a while. they have a strong grasp of how to navigate life and make the most of each situation, which can be quite impressive. they’re aware that not all situations will be ideal, but they believe it depends on how one reacts and how much one lets it affect them. in addition, their perspective of the world might be influenced by their travels or interactions with people from various countries, which is likely tied to their business. they’re feeling very content with their current state and the place they’re in. they’re fulfilled with how they’ve handled things and how everything has turned out so far. however, as i mentioned at the beginning of the reading, they’re going through something emotionally. being a hard-working and somewhat workaholic person, this might serve as their escape. they’re so adept at what they do and at coming up with great ideas that their work becomes a refuge from their emotional struggles. the validation they receive from others provides a sense of relief and makes them feel better about themselves. when they get positive feedback or when their projects succeed, it feels like the most important thing to them, overshadowing everything else. while they’re currently satisfied with their position, i wonder how much more they can handle, as they’re already carrying some burdens.

feelings: when it comes to their feelings towards you and your connection, they feel a strong desire to manifest whatever it is that you want. they are working to feel as stable as possible so they can give you what you deserve, both emotionally and physically. however, there’s a part of them that questions whether they truly deserve someone like you. they wonder if they are worthy of you and this has them feeling quite conflicted.

they have strong feelings for you, but they also grapple with self-doubt about whether they’re deserving of this connection. they want to keep you close, not in a possessive way, but out of a genuine desire to protect and cherish you. having been alone for a long time or having had less fulfilling connections in the past, they worry about whether they will know how to handle a relationship with someone like you.

stability is very important to them, and they value it not only for themselves but also for their partner, especially emotionally. when it comes to your upcoming meeting, they will likely feel overwhelmed and stressed, but this is more about their own nerves than anything related to you. they will be anxious about what to say or do, but they are also looking forward to seeing how things will unfold. they believe that things will happen in their own time, and once you both achieve closure and fulfill what you need in your lives, everything will fall into place and manifest as it should.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €7 and soulmate readings for €14 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[itoshiexx]

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that. 

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs. 

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away. 

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it. 

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware. 

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home. 

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit. 

your sweet voice breaks the silence. 

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is. 

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair. 

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[eamour]

living a life in sin.

most of the times, we live a life in sin without really noticing it. we wait for our desires, we wait for something to change in the 3D, we wait for something to fulfill us. what we don’t realise is that by doing so, we neglect the feeling of our desires, the purpose of our imagination and most importantly, ourselves.

to live in sin.

to sin means to live a life of unfulfillment. to sin means to deny yourself of the experiences you would want to have. it means to lock yourself away from the feeling of satisfaction that comes along with the inner fulfillment of your desires. to sin is also an act of robbery; you rob yourself (GOD) the moment you choose to live a life that isn’t meant for you. you steal and take away feelings of happiness and contentment and therefore commit an act of sin.

living in desire.

the fact that you are desiring tells me a lot about your state. if you aim for the end but you catch yourself are desiring your manifestation, that should tell you that you are not truly living in the end. if you had your desire, you wouldn’t constantly think about when it’s going to manifest, if it’s going to appear on time or how you're going to attain it. you wouldn’t bother about the ways it'll come to you, you wouldn’t try to put in physical effort and you most definitely wouldn’t constantly check the 3D for validation. because remember, the 3D can only be what your 4D is.

stop sinning.

stop sinning. stop robbing yourself. stop rejecting your desires. stop running away from them. stop denying yourself desirable feelings. stop pushing them away from you. stop wasting your time accepting questionable convictions of yourself and give yourself permission to BE who you want to be and to HAVE what you want to have. only you can determine who you are and how much you have within.

in imagination, it's yours.

you can’t have what you still desire. it’s quite ironic that we get the things we desire by not desiring anymore and by gifting them to us instead of waiting for the world to serve us on its own. but your imagination IS your saviour. in imagination, you can BE and HAVE anything you'd like. so why not grant yourself all of your desires? who is stopping you? no one's going to take away your desires in a place that is only accessible to you and you ONLY.

desire, until you don’t.

now, to no longer desire your desire doesn’t only happen when you stop wanting it. it also naturally happens when you no longer NEED to desire it — as you're already in possession of it. once you claim to have your desire in your mind, you will eventually get to a point of not desiring it anymore. it can look like this: "i know i have my desire now. in imagination, i have accepted that it’s mine. i am it now!" this is actually a very good sign. it’s like the highest level on the manifestation pyramid (if you will). it’s called ACCEPTANCE.

give yourself your desire.

"so i no longer want to be it, i am it!" — neville goddard.

whenever you want something, whenever you crave to have something "physically", let yourself experience it in your 4D. give it to yourself in imagination. do not wait, do not tell yourself that you'll do it later, once you are home or before you fall asleep. do it THEN and THERE. do not condition your desire and do not let yourself spend any day longer living in desire. you will see how your state will change quite immediately and you will feel easy about it. you will feel fulfilled. you will HAVE it or BE it because that’s what you have just decided. you will feel your imagination to be real, realer than anything undesirable in the 3D and you will start to become comfortable in imagination. eventually, you won’t care about ANYTHING but experiencing. eventually, you won’t care about having it in the 3D.

with love, ella.

[twstedstoryshop]

Prize for @windalchemist001 from my fan event in August. I apologize deeply to the prize winners for how long these are taking as my life is taken up a lot by my new job and that drains me of working on these. But these are slowly but surely coming along, I assure you. Until then, please bear with me. -Shopkeep

Finding Out You Have A Crush On Him

Trey I believe would come to figure out your crush through overheard conversations or someone having to spell it out for him. Either due to Ace and Deuce unknowingly gossiping over your crush or Cater just straight up telling him in his own Cay-Cay way.

Now Trey wasn’t a romanticist at heart, especially considering how he blundered with the Ghost Bride way back when. So with this newfound knowledge, Trey would do the best thing he can think of… Sit on this knowledge and never let it surface.

What else is he supposed to do? Go charging up to you, declaring he likes you too and should totally start dating? That wouldn’t be fair to you, putting you on the spot.

Instead, he allows you to let you sort out your feelings, whether you pursue them or not. There’s no pressure in whatever choice you do.

Though it wouldn’t be too hard to notice on your end that Trey would start acting a bit awkward and stiff. He doesn’t mean to come off like that, but when in the face of someone he knows who likes him, he can’t help but maybe straighten his posture more. Maybe act a bit more softer.

Trey is always marked as the reliable older brother type. So with a highschool crush on him, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe act a little like his age. An awkward boy unsure of how to navigate this newfound affection. Who knows, maybe act a bit selfish and roll a little in your attention just for him alone.

Malleus could either or having someone tell him about your crush. Most likely Lilia in his teasing ways. Or perhaps with his keener senses, noticed your affections for him.

With the knowledge of your crush, Malleus would feely content in the way a satisfied cat would smirk after finishing its creme. It would be hard not to catch Malleus’ very good mood for the following days.

The weather would be pleasant, not a single cloud in the sky, and the wind is gentle. Something that may or may not catch some of NRC’s attention, especially if it’s expected to be cold or rainy weather for the season.

Malleus, while eager, would wait with baited breath to see what his dear child of man would do to convey their love. It gives him a great satisfaction to be wanted and chased after, so he would want to hear it from you first.

Even if you have stutters or slip-ups, Malleus finds it all so endearing and locks your attempts of confession under lock and key in his memory. What he wouldn’t allow is if someone dares to interrupt you when you’re working up the courage to tell your feelings.

A quick thunderclap and a venomous glare gets his point across before he immediately looks back to you with a softened expression. “You were saying, my dear child of man?”

It would be a relatively peaceful courtship until the confession is made thanks to some sway from the dragon prince himself.

Silver would definitely have to be told outright of your feelings. For comedy’s sake, it would be hilarious if the one who had to spell things out for him was Sebek of all people.

The loud-mouthed proud guard would be aghast of how oblivious Silver was. The fact that he could pinpoint something beyond Silver’s recognition has him smug one moment but also a little annoyed for your sake. Not that he would ever admit that.

Once Silver truly digested Sebek’s words, Silver’s handsome features would burst into a magnificent shade of pink. Flushed either from embarrassment over his crude unawareness and a part deeply flattered by your affection.

Silver wouldn’t make any moves though as you mulled over your feelings. He wouldn’t dare try to put you on the spot, but you do notice how lately he feels a bit more caring and gentleman-ly personally for you.

If Malleus or Lilia didn’t need him, Silver would often escort you wherever you needed to go despite you knowing your way around. He even tries to lend a hand in helping you study. Despite his own grades suffering a bit with his sleeping habits.

Silver would be uncertain about all this though, truth be spoken. He’s never really had romantic feelings before or felt much need for a romance in the first place. But the idea that someone liked him so innocently and sincerely does charm him profoundly.

Like a shy forest creature, daring to come near him and be in his presence, he only wished to offer his hand towards you. Who knows, maybe falling a lil bit in love wouldn’t be so bad during his high school days…

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

When They Know They're In Love ~ Sinostra Edition

I will be doing the other houses and will link them here once they're posted (Frostheim, Vagastrom, and Jabberwock are already done). I hope you like this and if you did, please feel free to send in requests for what you'd like to see.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Taiga Hoshibami, Romeo Lucci, Ritsu Shinjo x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How do the characters know they're in love and what will they do when they realise?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taiga’s an interesting case. I think he would know he’s in love but how he reacts depends on his mood in the moment.

He couldn’t pin down the moment he realised what he was feeling for you. It just came to him one day while he was in a calm mood and it’s stuck with him since.

Now, is he going to confess? Absolutely. Is it going to be a spur of the moment thing while he feels like it? Also yes. Will it be the most unique confession you’ve ever received? Without a doubt.

If he’s in a serious and “well adjusted” mood, he’ll come out and tell you straight. No matter what your response is, he’ll accept it and move on with his life. He has bigger things to deal with.

If he’s in one of his dangerous moods, he probably won’t be as straightforward. It’s probably best to say you have to think about it and give him an answer when he’s feeling calmer later.

Romeo? In love with someone other than his reflection? Yeah, no one else can believe it either.

I honestly feel like he wouldn’t notice at first. He’s very busy running the casino and maintaining his image so he’s got a lot on his mind already.

He finally notices when someone else talks negatively to you and he gets a flash of anger. How dare they talk to you like that? He’s the only one who can call you a BB.

And it’s in that moment that Romeo discovers he cares about you even more than he cares about not getting wrinkles. It  must be love.

He’ll go about courting you in the most glamorous, over the top manner he can muster. If you’re going to fall for him, he’s going to make it as beautiful as he thinks you both are.

Ritsu is a very intelligent person. He can recite almost any law or regulation from memory and would put Sherlock Holmes to shame with his deduction skills.

But when it comes to love? He’s pretty hopeless. Sure, he knows about love but where does it tell you in any of his books what love feels like?

He knows he feels something when he’s around you. Is it friendship? The satisfaction of knowing he’s found a good partner in business? Love? He just doesn’t know.

It finally clicks when you stand up for him after someone disagrees with his habit of recording conversations. The feeling in his chest can’t be anything other than love, now he’s certain.

He’ll go about trying to woo you in a very methodical manner, the only way he knows how. Now all he can do is hope you find that sweet.

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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

[lustnhim]

‘ ol toothless. ‘ — elvis x fem! reader

note: some dialogue from linda thompson’s ‘a little thing called life’ + requested / warnings: MDNI, teasing, big daddy being big daddy, innocent playing turning sexual, oral f-receiving, fingering, p in v sex, elvis being goofy. / summary: elvis wants to make sure you love him, even when he’s ‘toothless’.

“Honey, Honey, come look,” Elvis yells from the bathroom, and you roll over in bed- sitting your book down on your chest. “What is it?” You yell back, and you can hear Elvis chuckling to himself. He’s in a bathrobe, a dark red one with ‘EP’ engraved in gold on the left breast, you can see his stomach bouncing slightly as he laughs. You notice how careful he is to keep his mouth shut like he’s hiding something. Walking over to the bed he sits on it, not saying a word, a silly smirk across his face. “Elvis, what is it?” You giggle out, shaking your head. He lets out a laugh before opening his mouth wide. “Lookie er’..” He says and you lean up close to his mouth, noticing the crown he’d always worn on one of his teeth was gone. “Elvis! What happened?” You asked, grabbing his face and turning it side to side, seeing if he had lost other teeth. “What’s wrong, honey? Don’t like it?” He laughs, sliding your hands off his face. You can’t help but laugh at him a little, sure, you’re worried about what he’s gonna do about the whole situation– but he looks so cute. “No, Elvis it’s-it’s just surprising!” You stammer. Elvis lays down on his side, moving the book off your chest. “C’mere honey, give me sum’ love.” he coos, talking like a full-blown hillbilly. “Give ol’ toothless Elvis some sugar.” He says, crawling over top of you making obnoxious kissy sounds as he covers your face in kisses. “Elvis! Stop that!” You laugh as Elvis kisses your nose. “Dontcha’ love me no more babydoll?” He asks, still talking hick. “You know I love you but you’re all over me!” You say, pushing your hands against his chest. Elvis pulls back, feigning hurt, “I like bein’ toothless. I wanna see if ya really love me.” Diving back in he kisses you on the lips this time, a small sweet kiss. “If you love me lookin’ like this.” He opens his mouth wide, showing it off. “Pfft! Elvis, honey please!” You laugh aloud and Elvis pauses for a moment before his hands start grabbing on your hips, squeezing and tickling you. Elvis grins wickedly, his fingers digging into your sides, making you squeal and squirm beneath him. "Oh, honey, I ain't givin' up that easy." He winks, his hands continuing their assault, making you giggle uncontrollably. "Now, tell me, honey, where does it tickle the most?" He asks, his voice laced with amusement. "Here?" He trails one hand up to your ribcage, making you gasp and try to wiggle away. "Or maybe... here?" His other hand moves lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Think I found a spot, hm?” He coos, moving his head down to your thigh, kissing it softly. “Elvis…” You whisper and he leans up smiling at you, making sure to show all his teeth. He crawls back up to your face, “Whatsa’ matter, baby?” He asks, a hand sliding up your nightgown.

You blush, biting your lip as you look up at him. "Elvis, we shouldn't... it’s too late.." you murmur, trying to sound convincing despite the butterflies in your stomach. "But... but what if I promise to be gentle?" He whispers, his hand inching higher, his thumb brushing against your panties. "And what if I promise to make it worth your while?" He adds, leaning in to nuzzle your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "Mm, baby..I can’t say no to you" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Good," he growls softly, his hand slipping inside your panties, finding you already wet and ready for him. "Oh, honey…" He slides a finger inside you, making you gasp, his thumb circling your clit. “Ya do like me like this.” He snickers and you groan. Elvis smirks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he continues to tease you. "Mmm, I knew you couldn't resist this toothless charm," he whispers, adding another finger, stretching you. “E-Elvis..be serious..” You beg and he begins pumping in and out of you. " I wanna hear it, honey. Tell me you’ll love me no matter what." His gaze is intense.  "Say it, baby," he demands, his voice hoarse with desire. "Tell me you love me, even without my tooth.” His face is dead serious, it makes no sense with how silly he sounds. You moan, writhing beneath him, your body aching for more. "I-I love you, Elvis," you pant, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Even when you're toothless'' You feel so embarrassed, he’s usually not so goofy doing stuff like this, you know you probably look like a tomato. Elvis’ fingers work on you, pumping in and out as his thumb circles your clit, the pressure building up in your stomach is unbearable. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Elvis slowly slides down your body, his fingers leaving your warmth, much to your dismay. But he doesn't stop there; instead, he hooks his fingers under the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you bare except for your damp panties. "Elvis... what are you doing?" You ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice, as you watch him settle between your legs, his broad shoulders pushing your thighs apart. "Shh, baby, trust me..." He murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours as he leans down, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.  Before you can respond, Elvis hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and discarding them to the floor. You feel a blush spreading across your cheeks as he exposes you completely, you were so close there was no way you’d last long. "Goddamn, honey, you're beautiful..." He growls, his voice gruff as he leans in, his tongue darting between your folds. "And you taste even better..." 

Your back arches off the bed as Elvis settles in, his tongue exploring every inch of you, his lips and mouth working in tandem to bring you pleasure beyond anything you've ever experienced. Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping tightly as you ride the wave of ecstasy that threatens to consume you. "Elvis... oh god" You moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Don't stop... please don't stop..."In response, Elvis simply hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, pushing you even closer to release. Elvis grins wickedly, his tongue lapping at you hungrily, his fingers joining in, curling upwards to hit that spot deep inside you. "Oh, honey, you taste so fuckin' good," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh, sending shivers down your spine. He continues his relentless assault, his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue flicking against your clit, driving you wild. "You're so close, baby," he whispers, looking up at you, his chin glistening with your arousal. "C’mon honey, cum for me." His words push you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you. Elvis laps at you eagerly, drawing out your climax until you're nothing but a quivering mess beneath him. As you come down from your high, Elvis crawls back up your body, his eyes filled with lust and love. "That's my girl," he whispers, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “I’m gonna make ya’ feel so good…” He reaches between your legs, guiding himself to your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds. "Can ya feel how hard lil’ Elvis is?" he asks, his voice tight with restraint. You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Please Elvis, jus’ put it in…," you beg, needing to feel him inside you. Elvis groans, pushing into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. "Fuck…so tight.," he grits out, bottoming out inside you. He gives you a moment to adjust before starting to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, hitting all the right spots. You moan, meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back. With each thrust you let out a little yelp, his soft groans filling your ears as he thrust deep into you. 

Elvis smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he starts to move faster, his hips slapping against yours. "Is this what you wanted, baby? To feel me inside you, fillin' you up?" He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, honey. Tell me how much you love havin' me like this." You gasp, your body arching into his as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you. "I love havin’ you like this..” You pant, your voice barely above a whisper. Elvis grins, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more needy. "Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself cum with me inside you." You hesitate for a moment, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. "I-I’m already close…" you stammer, feeling overstimulated already. Elvis stops moving, his eyes searching yours. "Please, baby… I wanna see you touch ya’self while I'm fuckin' you. C'mon, touch that pretty pussy for me." He begged and you couldn’t take it. He wasn’t going to move unless you did, letting out a shaky groan you reach between your legs, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing circles as Elvis starts to move again. "That's it, honey. Just like that. Show me how much ya’ need it...” You moan, your body writhing beneath him as you rub yourself, feeling the pleasure build up inside you once again. "Elvis... I'm close," you warn, your breath coming in short gasps. Elvis growls, his thrusts becoming deeper, more powerful. "Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel ya squeeze me tight." Your body tenses, clenching around Elvis's cock. Elvis lets out a guttural groan, his body tensing as he follows you over the edge, filling you with his hot seed. "Fuck, honey... that was... incredible," he pants, collapsing on top of you, his body still trembling with aftershocks. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both catch your breath. "I love you, Elvis," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. Elvis lifts his head, his eyes filled with love as he looks down at you. "Awe, she loves me, no tooth n’ all..” he teases, making you laugh. “Be quiet.” You chuckle, resting your head on him.

“Anythin’ for you, Mama.” 

inspired by: @alienelvisobsession + idea from: @rogueinmymind - this was so cute to write i loved it :3 i have to more fics on the way (expect teacher elvis n’ a nice little fluffy fic for the first time!!) n’ i’m so excited :3

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @callieselvisobsessed @eapep @auntbee22 @wildhorseinkansas @elvisiana @spookyeagleflower @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @louisejoy86 @elvisalltheway101 @cherrycolaride @sloppyzengarden @faeolwen @slayingjd

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna coming for Megumi's sister at Shibuya but Yuji fights back pt. 4

Part l: here Part ll: here Part lll: here

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader; Yuji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: Sukuna enjoys every second with you by his side. But when Yuji slowly but surely begins to fight back, Sukuna has to act quickly. A sweet innocent kiss before he has to go, before Yuji Itadori gains back his body...

Warnings: this broke me into a million tiny pieces, listened to david kushner's daylight while writing this do not recommend , so much hurt and angst, slight comfort in the end if you're a sucker for my boy Yuji, still enough spice for all Sukuna lovers out there, read at own risk

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @wifenanami

Your eyes are widen in pure horror, letting Sukuna drag you behind him without resistance. You feel so numb, completely shattered from the inside. All the things you saw today, all the things that he did.

Sukuna.

You stare at the back of his head while he hums in satisfaction, casually stepping over corpses, blood and debris. That man, that one man army who holds your hand with the fingers of the boy you love more than anything else. Silent tears escape your eyes. None of this should have happened, Sukuna should have never been able to take control of Yuji.

But oh he did. And it seems like nothing is able to stop him.

“Huh, why are you crying now? I thought you enjoyed the show. Just wait until we arrive where I take you.”

Get a hold of yourself, don’t show him your weakness. But damn, you are so fucking exhausted from all the disaster you’ve witnessed today. No, you can’t take it anymore.

“Let go of me”, you hiss through gritted teeth, ripping your arm away from him just in time before he’s able to touch you again.

“Why so mad? Aren’t you at least a little thankful that I saved your puny life countless times, that I spared your little friends?” he questions, eyes staring at you so intensely that you want to break down in front of him.

“I would rather die than being your puppet”, you bite back.

“Just like your brother?”

His words. His cursed words make no sense in your head, wide eyes staring at him emotionless. What the hell is he talking about? What has all of this to do with your brother?

“Maybe you should turn around, (y/n).”

All colour drains from your face, it feels as if the ground underneath your feet gets pulled away. You want to puke, eyes laying on your beloved brother.

His numb body leaned against a wall.

A wall that’s covered in blood.

Just like him.

“Megumi.”

You don’t know how you do it. Like in trance, your feet carry you towards his body, knees collapsing onto the wet ground next to him.

“Megumi!” you cry out, your desperate voice echoing through the buildings around.

Fuck. This is so much blood. His head, his limbs, his chest. You swallow hard, urgently trying to stop yourself from puking all over him. Pictures flood your mind. Pictures of him giving you a clap on the back of your head, him holding you in his arms when you woke up from a nightmare, him helping you out with your homework. Your lip trembles, whole body shaking in nothing but thick fear.

“You can’t die here, you simply can’t”, you breathe out.

“He won’t. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.”

Sukuna positions himself in front of you.

What?

You hold your breath, eyes scanning that enormous creature standing in front of Sukuna and you. What the hell is that? Is it responsible for Megumi’s injuries?

“If this thing dies, your brother will live. What do you think, (y/n)? Sounds fair?”

“Just do it, Sukuna”, you bark at him.

“Only if you kiss me.”

You can’t believe your ears, shivers running down your spine so violently that it’s hard to keep your composure.

“Are you fucking serious? My brother is on the brink of death and all you care about is…a kiss?”

That voice of yours, it sounds so dangerous that Sukuna can’t help but smirk. The worn out look on your lovely face, the tears of despair glistening in your doe eyes. Oh, this is absolutely perfect, this is just what he wanted. You went from being a sweet innocent girl to a complete mess, even using language despite you never did that. How cute, how pathetic. Sukuna will break you along with that other brat, that’s for sure.

“You should know by now that there’s no service without anything in return. I have plenty of time, think about your priorities, sweet (y/n)-“

“Is all of this just a game to you?” you yell into his face.

With a swift motion you are back on your feet, standing up against him in a way you never did before. Your furious eyes lock with his, time seems to stand still.

“Partially, yes”, he remarks dryly, hand wrapping itself around your waist before you are even able to react.

“But you’re the price.”

You snort, shaking your head in disbelief. This can’t be real, it has to be a cruel joke. His red eyes are fixated on you, almost swallowing you whole. Does he really want you to…kiss him? God, you hate the way your desperate heart screams in agony, how your head wants to tell you that those are in fact Yuji’s lips.

No. The man standing in front of you is far away from being Yuji.

“Time’s ticking, lovely (y/n).”

For a brief moment, you close your eyes. Maybe, just maybe you can pretend that it’s him for a split second. Yuji would understand, right? Yuji, who always brought your favourite candy with him. Yuji, who always stayed with you in bed until you fell asleep. Yuji, who promised you to love you till the very end. He would get that you have to do this in order to save Megumi, he would maybe even encourage you.

Fuck it.

You let your lips sink against his, feeling how he draws you even closer to his body. Oh, how bittersweet this kiss feels, how much you missed the softness of Yuji’s lips pressed against yours. But the harshness in which he digs his fingers into your tender flesh, how he deepens the kiss without hesitation tells you that this isn’t the boy you love.

“Enough”, you press out before ripping away.

Tame your pounding heart and sharp breathing, focus on your mission. This isn’t about what feels good or bad, this is about saving your brother’s goddamn life.

“Your body betrays you, my dear”, he purrs, aiming to cup your cheek with his hand.

You yank away from him, dumping down next to your brother again.

“Do what you’ve promised, Sukuna”, you hiss.

“Wait.”

You want to scream into his face, want to slap him as hard as you can. But before you’re even able to raise your voice, a sharp pain runs through your guts and turns your world upside down. What? How?

Slowly, your eyes look down at your body. A piercing hole in your stomach, a hole that Sukuna himself must have inflicted on you within the split of a second.

“Just to make sure you’re not running away until I’m back, you know?”

And with that, he’s gone. Leaving you with a gaping hole in your body, breaking down next to your unconscious brother.

What made you stupid enough to think that Sukuna wouldn’t kill you, that you hold any value to him? How reckless it was to even think about this. But even worse, you made a contract with the king of curses himself. Suits you right, pooling in your very own blood, head resting on your brother’s chest.

He’s still breathing, heart beating barely against his ribs. Good. Maybe Sukuna will at least keep up with his words. Maybe…You let your breath out, pain radiating through your whole body.

Maybe Megumi and Yuji will get out of this mess.

You stare at your blood-covered hand, pressing against your stomach in a poor attempt to stop the bleeding. Did he hit something important? You can’t tell, maybe you’d be dead if that’s the chase.

Why are you just laying here, then? Why are you resting your head when countless people around you lose their lives? It is your job to get up on your trembling feet, to lift yourself out of your blood, to stay strong. If not for yourself, then for your brother and Yuji. They deserve it that you at least try, that you go after Sukuna.

“I’ve got this from here on, ‘Gumi.”

Everything hurts, every little step you take feels like a knife piercing through your tight muscles. But you just keep going, hissing through the pain, eyes focused towards the chaos that lays itself out in front of you.

Keep going, push forwards, just a little more, just a little closer.

“Don’t. Give. Up”, you mutter to yourself, holding your stomach as you limp forward.

“You here?”

His vibrant voice sends shivers down your spine, the instinct to run away almost taking over.

“You’ve made a promise, Sukuna”, you press out, eyes darting around the destroyed area in order to catch a glimpse of him.

“Are you not trusting me, dear (y/n)? I’m already on my way to bring Megumi Fushiguro to your people. That woman wearing the white coat, she uses the reversed technique, right?”

Your heart drops to the floor, just the thought of him visiting Shoko…

“Stay. Away. From. Her.”

You turn around so fast that your head begins to spin, already shaky legs giving in.

“Careful, watch your step.”

The bloodlust written on his face, the way his red eyes are widen in nothing but amusement while holding you in his arms. This man…he really is the king of curses, no one to mess with. How reckless to think you could tame him.

“I thought you’d keep up longer, maybe long enough for him to see you. Well, this will be an exciting race against time. Give me a second.”

He places you on the floor, leaving you in the ruins of what once was Shibuya city. One person. Only this one person was all it takes for these buildings to go down, the sheer power of Ryomen Sukuna was enough to tear everything down to the ground.

Your eyes grow heavier and heavier. You’re so damn tired. Tired of trying to save the world, tired of losing countless lives in front of your own eyes, tired of being so useless.

Tired of this hopeless battle. Who is going to save you without Gojo, without Megumi, without Yuji? You stretch your heavy hand out to the sky, the only light being the moon that shines upon you.

“Lovely”, you hush to yourself, thinking about the countless nights you stared up in the sky with Yuji by your side.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this, how hard you fought for a better ending. But as it seems, not every love story deserves a happy one. Some seem to be cursed to infinity.

“Are you dead yet?”

“Maybe wish I was”, you remark so huffed that Sukuna almost doesn’t get it.

“You made it, (y/n). Your brother is receiving medical care at this very moment, I killed that monster and that other fucker for you and oh, that special curse is gone as well. Aren’t you happy? You kept me going, I kept my promise.”

He kneels down next to you, eyes roaming around your blood-soaked uniform. Never did he expect it would bug him this much to let you go again.

“What a waste to let you run into his open arms again. But don’t cry too much, we’ll meet again very soon.”

His hand caresses your cheek gently, smiling at you one last time before standing up and stretching himself.

“Hey brat, be sure so savor this.”

Your veiled gaze drifts to his hands. Hands that slowly begin to tremble, hands that form into fists. Is it really possible, could it really be?

“Yuji?”

He falls to the ground next to you. Sobs, cries, screams escaping his trembling lips.

“Die!”

He digs his nails into the ground so harshly that blood spills.

“Only me!”

“Yuji…”

“How could you take her from me?”

Your body screams at you to rest your eyes, begs you to stop moving. But despite every fiber of your being fights against it, you crawl closer to him, bloody hand coming to rest on his.

“Yuji…”

 And then his eyes dart towards your puny figure.

His lovely brown eyes. The eyes of the boy you love, the eyes that laughed at you countless times before. Filled with tears, filled to the brim with pure horror when the memories of Sukuna slowly start to flood his mind. In his memory, the last thing he witnessed was you getting stabbed in your guts by Sukuna, barely alive body resting against Megumi’s chest.

But this is you. This is…

You.

“(y/n).”

You can’t stop the swell of tears that overflows your heavy orbs, a silent scream of relief leaving your lips. He’s back. The love of your life is back.

For brief moments, for very few seconds, you thought he might never return, that Sukuna took over his body. But those eyes, those oh so gorgeous eyes that look at you with so much grief and agony chiselled into them, they belong exclusively to him.

“Thank god. Thank god you’re still here. I thought I lost you.”

His bloody hands lift your upper body off the ground, pressing you against his chest like the greatest treasure he ever found, keeping you safe and sound while all you can do is cry your whole heart out against the warmth of his body.

“I’m so sorry”, you breathe out.

“I’m so sorry for betraying you, I’m sorry making a contract with him, I’m sorry for kiss-“

“You can’t imagine how proud I am. You did so well, (y/n). I’m so glad you are alive.”

He presses a kiss against your forehead. Just like he does every morning before you wake up, like he does every time you go to sleep. But this time it’s different. From all the kisses you shared until this fateful day, this is the one you longed for the most.

“Let’s get you to Shoko…You need to get fixed…”

Yuji lifts your body off the ground, holding your aching frame securely against his own while walking down the streets of Shibuya with horror in his eyes.

“Stay with me, don’t go out there again. Please, I can’t afford to lose you again, I can’t live with this thought.”

“That’s not possible, (y/n). I have to go. I have to fight. Otherwise, I’ll just be a murderer. But you did enough, you acted so selfless and brave today. I couldn’t be more grateful for having such a wonderful girl by my side.”

“Yuji…”, you breathe out, tears swelling up your eyes all over.

He stops in his tracks, watery eyes staring down at you. Those eyes that saw everything Sukuna did, the countless lives he took tonight, the things he did to you with his very own hands. No, before earning the privilege to let himself fall into your arms, he has to end this fight. Without thinking twice, he presses his lips against yours longingly. You feel as good as ever, sending shivers down his spine by the way you moan so innocently against his mouth. God, how much he loves you. And how much he hates himself for letting Sukuna take advantage of you.

“I’ll make it all up to you, I swear. Rest for now, (y/n). Look after Megumi. I will return as soon as I can.”

You cling onto him for dear life, weak arms refusing to let the love of your life go all over again. You just got him back, out of the tight grip of Sukuna’s powers.

“Promise me something”, you urge.

“(y/n), Yuji, is that you?” you hear Megumi’s voice shout from afar.

“Anything, love”, Yuji replies.

“Come back to me. Promise that you’ll come back to me.”

Another long kiss on your forehead before he lets you down gently, holding you tight against his chest.

“I will never let you go again, (y/n). I promise”, he whispers against your ear.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can you do Rook, Malleus and Lillia trying to give period pain relief the old fashioned way

Period Pain Relief~The Old-Fashioned Way | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

They realize that pain is a natural predecessor of the period. Now Twisted Wonderland is not devoid of painkillers and magic meant to sooth your laboring body. But would you know that? No. And the ones dangerously tipping on the edge of their sanity would much rather ease the pain themselves. The old fashioned way:

Lilia Vanrouge 

“C’mon love. Let’s do it my way! I’ll make it better I promise.”

While he may not have had a lot of sexual partners he’s already seen so much

Lived for so long

He’s bound to know the perfect spot to rub and the perfect pace to have you reeling

Blood is no obstacle 

He’s a former general! 

Though your blood is the only kind he’s interested in he doesn’t mind it or eating through it

He’s sure it will help those pesky cramps of yours 

No pain killers needed

Or at the very least distract from it

“Is this better my love? To fill your pain with the pleasure I give you? Want to see if it works all throughout the week?”

“L-il-ah~stop talking!”

“Oh yeah! I agree! It’s a great idea! All week let’s not stop!” 

He’s focusing on your pain right now and getting rid of it

Whether your together or not soothing you is his goal

And that’s almost enough to get him off on his own

He doesn’t even think about the true and core cause of your period

“Hm a baby…that would be nice. To be a papa again….what would you say about that Mama?”

“Forget it Lilia! This is a one time thing.”

“Sure sure until next month! And the rest of your life.”

Malleus Draconia

“Soothing your pain is a necessity but the root of the problem still remains!”

“I..don’t follow.”

“Your body burdens you because of your empty womb. Naturally the best way to resolve it is to fill it.”

He doesn’t believe in simply plugging the leak he prefers to drain the lake

Aiming to impregnate you once he gets a hold of your cycle’s schedule

Obliterating Your pain aside he’s binding you with him forever

No mirror or pesky pest that takes your attention away can take his place as your child’s father as his wife

The period is a sugarcoated excuse to do it

He’ll take your refusal and delegation as human-fear

Are you worried he won’t fit 

That you won’t be prepared 

About the future

No worries he’s Malleus Draconia

Your Tsunotarou

He’ll prep you properly, he’ll fund everything, he’ll even put a ring on your finger to make it official

In the end he’s here for you him

“M-Malle~hmm we can’t…it won’t~ah~”

“Shhh hush my child of man! Hng~our child is the true solution to keeping you beside me forever.”

He doesn’t quit care that it will return after the pregnancy but if your smart you’ll know his exact solution

“Then I guess we’ll just have another.”

“What?! I can’t handle that! I can barely handle one!”

“Fear not my treasure! My magic will soothe your pain.”

“You have magic that can do that…?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you use it before!?”

“I wanted a child with you and the period that plagues you would have ceased. This is what you would call a ‘win win situation.’”

Rook Hunt

“Oh mon Dieu! Please my ma beauté ultime! Ma délicatesse magnifique, let me bring you comfort!”

If you relent or are in so much pain you can’t explicitly refuse him he’s giving his aide

Blood is nothing to him

That’s not true 

Its everything to him

he delights in the carnal satisfaction he has when his mouth is drenched in it

Like the predator he aspires to be he stalked you, warded off interested parties, and has finally pounced

Free to indulge in your flavor

The forbidden that only comes once a month

“Mmm parfaite!”

“Rook~Don’t talk just~eek”

“Ah I understand! Smeck~ <3 Forgive my neglect.”

Hours upon hours 

He’ll happily stay between your legs

Sending a second of a glare before he lets up 

You’ll regret interrupting his feast

Studying your biology to know you inside and out

He realizes he could stop your period for 9 months

He plays with the idea

But ultimately decides he has more work to do

Your cage isn’t quite ready yet

“Rook I’m tired and I’m not in pain so can we stop?”

“Non non! This hunter’s got a ways to go before I tire my amour!”

“But I want to sleep!”

“Go ahead! When you awake I’ll be right here with you!”

[sturniolosiphone]

Mrs. Officer

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ MDNI, angst, smut, use of Daddy౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

This is the first fanfic I have written about the triplets, and I am CRINGING reading it back, but I made it for my best friend, so I'll keep it up

y/n’s POV

It’s been five months since Nate ended things with me, and by this point, I thought I would be healed from everything he put me through, but I still find myself missing parts of him. I miss the status it gave me, I miss the chaos, I miss the holidays back in Boston and being surrounded by his family and friends. Well, except Chris, I do not miss Chris. Chris has been in Nate’s life since they were small and was always around throughout our two-year relationship - I tried so hard to gain a connection with my ex's best friend, but no matter what, Chris was standoffish and cold. We all go to the same small university in Pennsylvania, and my sorority and their fraternity always have events together, so keeping away from them has been challenging. Lately, I have kept to myself and tried to avoid any mixers or events because I can not face them, and honestly, it’s not even Nate who gets under my skin the most; it’s Chris. When he sees me around campus, he acts like he has never met me, rolls his eyes at me, or makes some snide comment about what I am wearing. I am sure Nate has told him that I do not care for him, but he is the one who was a dick to me first, and at this point he needs to grow up. Tonight is Halloween, and I have decided that I am finally going out. I am known as the party girl in my sorority, and my absence has not gone unnoticed. I can not give Chris Sturniolo the satisfaction of thinking he is controlling me, and I will make sure to wear a costume that will piss Chris off.

Chris’ POV

“Do you think y/n is coming tonight?” I asked while mindlessly scrolling on my phone. 

“For the tenth time, Chris, I have no fucking clue if she is coming tonight. Why do you keep asking me? If you care so much, text her,” Nate rants. 

“Assuming I care about that bitch is bold, kid,” I mutter, still not looking up from my phone.

 “I mean, you were the one who was interested first until I slid in and stole her from you,” Nate teases. 

“That was almost two years ago, " I rolled my eyes. I am just happy you are the one who got stuck with her,” I smirked at Nate.

I can't grasp what exactly makes me tick about y/n. Was it the fact Nate purposefully went after her once I showed interest? Was it the slutty outfits she paraded around on campus? Her smart mouth? I can’t figure it out, but all I knew was she drove me crazy and made my dick twitch.

“Let’s get ready for the party. People will probably start arriving soon,” Nate says, startling me out of my train of thought.

“Yeah, okay,” I nod, getting up from the couch. 

y/n’s POV

“Are you sure this looks okay?” I say while staring at the full-length mirror and looking at myself from every angle possible. It’s not that I’m not confident; I just want my comeback to be memorable. I decided to be a sexy cop wearing a crop top, a badge, short shorts, a hat, and functional handcuffs. 

“Yes, y/n, you are slaying! Nate is going to be so pissed.” Madi beams back at me in the mirror. I shake my head and stifle a smile. As much as I don’t want to see him, it would be fun to remind him of what he had. 

“I don’t want this night to be about him,” I say, turning to Madi and looking into her eyes. Madi is dressed as the corpse bride. “I am honestly going to do my best to steer clear from him and his douchebag of a friend.” 

“No, no, I agree, you just look perfect,” she squeezes my hand. " I wish Chris weren’t such a douche; I mean, he is pretty hot.” Madi giggles.

“I would never.”

As we near the Fraternity house, my nerves get the best of me, and my stomach turns. I slow down, trying to catch my breath and Madi notices. 

“Y/n, I love you, but I am not letting you talk your way out of this one. You can not let them control your life. After a few drinks, I am sure you will relax, and this house will be packed. You might not even see them,” Madi assured me. I nodded, ran my hands over my face, and breathed deeply.

“Okay..fuck..okay, let’s go,” I say while grabbing her hand, and we take off towards the house. 

Chris’ POV

The music is so loud, and my head is swimming. I think I may have pre-gamed too hard. My nerves are shot at the thought I may see y/n tonight after what feels like months without properly seeing her. She hasn’t been around much, and I would know because I scope out every event looking for her, but I know Halloween is her favorite. She would always make Nate carve pumpkins and bring her to haunted houses. He complained to me the whole time, but I would have done anything to be in position. Watch how scared she would get, hold her, and make her feel safe. No matter how hard I tried, I was always a dick to her while she dated my best friend. I was just so fucking jealous and couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and she just let him. Fuck, I need to get some fresh air. I start leaving the house when some girl I am sure I hooked up with last semester stops me.

“Oh my god, are you supposed to be Steve Harrington from Stranger Things?” she slurs.

“Yeah, and I am guessing you’re supposed to be Eleven?” I ask flatly. 

“How did you know?! Yes! Can we please take a picture together?” she smiles.

“Yeah, whatever.” I put my sunglasses on my head and bring my bat up.

“Thaaaank you, Chrisss,” she says, hardly able to stand. I just nod and try to find the nearest exit to the house. I step out onto the porch and close my eyes. Maybe y/n won’t come tonight. 

“Madi, please stop walking so fast. These shoes are not meant to do fucking track and field,” I hear y/n yell, and my eyes fly open. 

“Sooorrry, y/n,” I hear Madi sing while skipping.  

Before I can retreat into the house, y/n spots me. Madi grabs her hand, and they go up the stairs to the front door.

“Christopher,” Madi snaps.

“Madi,” I snap back. 

Y/n walks past me without looking in my direction. Of course, she would be wearing some slutty costume. I absent-mindedly adjust myself before saying, “Come y/n, it’s been so long, haven’t you missed me? No hello?” I smirk.

“Fuck you, Chris,” y/n spits. 

y/n’s POV

“Okay, I hate to laugh, but the fact that Chris was the first person we saw is kind of crazy,” Madi laughs once we enter the packed living room. I laugh and roll my eyes.

“I need a drink after that. Do you want one, Madi?”

“Yes, please.”

 I walk towards the keg and wait in line. I’m not as shaken up as I thought after seeing Chris. I will never understand his issue with me, but I am not letting myself meditate on it. I fill Madi and my cups up, and as I turn around, I feel the liquid spill down the front of me. 

“Oh shit, sorry…wait, y/n! A little birdy told me you were here. I guess I didn’t believe them,” Nate says.

“Hello, Nate. Yeah, I’m here, and now my costume is ruined, thanks to you.” I grumble as I grab napkins to wipe myself off. 

“How are you?” Nate slurs. “I am sorry for all the like shit I put you through, y/n really I am,” he pouts while putting his hand over his heart.

“All the shit? Do you mean cheating on me for two years with multiple girls? Do you mean humiliating me in front of everyone? Is that the ‘shit’ you are referring to?” I snarl.

“Chris always told me you were just some dumb girl, and I really should have listened to him. You can't even take a sincere apology from the man who made you who you are.” Nate boasts.

“Made me who I am?” I laugh. “Nate, you are a president of a Fraternity. Get the fuck over yourself, my god.” I yell. I make my way back to Madi with two half-filled cups.

“Umm..what happened to you?” Madi asks, scanning my face while grabbing her cup.

“I don’t even know it’s so packed in here. I just kept getting bumped into! I am going to go to the bathroom and clean myself up!.” I can’t tell Madi what happened between Nate and I. I don’t want to ruin her night, but I need some time.

“I can come with you if you want! Maybe help you with your costume?” Madi offers.

“I’m okay, thank you,” I offer her a smile.

“Keep your phone with you, y/n; I mean it,” she says sternly. I salute her, and she rolls her eyes. 

Chris’ POV

“Wait, did you spill a drink on y/n? Purposefully?” I ask Nate while standing in the kitchen.

“Not purposefully, but whatever, she deserved it,” Nate states. “You should’ve seen the look on her face once she realized it was me.” Nate laughs.

“You do realize that you are the one who cheated on her and made her life a living hell?” I ask, feeling my face get hot.

“What? Now you suddenly care about y/n’s feelings? It didn’t seem like you cared too much when you were trying to convince me to break up with her for two years,” Nate responds, putting his hand to his chin and pretending to think hard. But you know I could always tell you wanted her,” he wags his finger at me. You wanted to feel her mouth around you, didn’t you? You wanted to hear her moaning your name, right?” Nate taunts.

“You better fucking watch it, kid,” I say while shoving Nate. 

“Okay, enough, let’s break it up,” some random guy yells while getting in between Nate and me. I decide to head to the bathroom to try to cool off. I don’t know why I have been such a prick to her when Nate is the issue. Great, there's no line to the bathroom. I try the door, and it's locked. Of course. I knock loudly on the door.

“Yo, is anyone there?” There was no response. “Hello? Come on, bro. I have to go,” I yelled over the loud music. I put my ear to the door, hearing running water and sniffing. 

y/n’s POV

I feel like such an idiot while I stand in front of the mirror, trying to desperately get this sticky beer off of me and fix my makeup. Why am I even crying? This is such a pathetic state to be in at a party.

“Yo, is anyone there?” someone yells. “Hello? Come on, bro, I have to go.” 

I freeze. It’s Chris. Of course, it’s Chris, why wouldn’t it be Chris? Please, god, get me out of here. The excessive knocking is making my head hurt.

“WHAT?!” I yell, throwing the door open to meet Chris, who is startled.

“Were you crying in there? Chris asked with his eyebrow slightly raised.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” I say while trying to get past him.

“Oh no, you are going nowhere,” he says, pushing me back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“What is your fucking issue with me, Chris?” I snap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n '' he starts.

“Spare me the bullshit. You haven’t liked me since we met, and I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Haven’t liked you, that's rich,” Chris mocks. “Haven’t liked you y/n? You have been all I thought about for two fucking years, but you chose Nate.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I ask, wondering if I heard him right. Chris sits on the side of the bathtub and puts his face in his hands. Chris sighs.

“I don’t know what I am saying,” he mumbles through his hands.

“I mean, you can start with a sorry, perhaps,” I say while prying his hands away from his face. He looks up at me, smiles, and rolls his eyes. 

“I am sorry, y/n. I am. I don’t know why I have treated you the way I have for so long. I may have been jealous of you, like your relationship or whatever,” Chris confesses.

“What? Did you think I was trying to get in between you and Nate? I never wanted that,” I say defensively, putting my hands up. Chris giggles.

“You are dense, aren’t you?” he stands up, towering over me. “I wanted you, y/n..just you,” he stares down at me. I feel like I am being pranked. Is there a camera in this bathroom? Is Nate outside listening? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Chris,” I whisper and shove his chest. “This isn’t funny at all. You act like you don’t even know me anymore. It’s been five months, and this is the first time we’ve held a conversation. Do you want me to trust you? I can’t.” I say, holding back tears. I have felt so alone after the breakup and can’t handle being taunted.

“No, I get that,” he says while tucking a hair behind my ear “I have been shitty towards you, and I guess if I were you, I wouldn’t trust me either, but I am serious, “ he tips my chin up forcing me to look into his eyes “I have wanted you for so long, Ma” he licks his lips. I involuntarily squeeze my thighs together, looking for any type of friction.

“Chris,” I whisper.

“And that fucking outfit, jesus christ, y/n,” he smirks down at me. “Turn around for me, baby..bend down in front of the sink,” he whispers. I’m fucked. I turn around slowly, see my flushed face in the mirror, and bend down. Chris tuts.

“No, don’t get all shy on me, y/n. I have heard you in Nate’s dorm. Look in the mirror.” Chris demands. 

Chris’ POV

I look in the mirror and see y/n’s flushed face. I can tell she’s breathing heavily, and her breath is fogging up the mirror. I press my clothed hard-on against her, and she bucks her hips back. “You’re such a needy girl, aren’t you? I have been waiting for this for so long, Ma, you have no idea. We are going to take our time. Can you be a good girl for Daddy?” Y/n nods her head. “Words, baby”

“I’m going to be a good girl, Chris,” Y/n says breathlessly. I back away from her, and she whimpers. My hand meets her ass with a loud crack which makes her jolt. “Who are you going to be a good girl for?” I tease. 

“I'm a good girl for you, Daddy. I'm always a good girl for you,” she whimpers. I can tell she’s embarrassed by her constant attempts to hide her face. 

“And I want you to watch y/n. I want you to watch yourself while I touch you, okay? I want you to see all the pretty faces you make,” I lean over and whisper in her ear. She nods again. “Words y/n. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she moans. 

“Pull your shorts down.” I watch as she pulls her shorts down as I palm myself through my jeans. No underwear. I lock eyes with her in the mirror. “No underwear, y/n? You’re such a slut, huh? Look at you clenching around nothing,” I tut. “I bet you wanted me to find you like this with your shorts off, bent over the sink with your pussy soaked,” I laugh. 

“Please,” she whines. 

“Please, what, baby?” I taunt. 

“Please, Daddy, please touch me. I need you so bad.”

y/n’s POV

I never would have thought I would be begging Chris Sturniolo to touch me, but here I am bent over a sink with my pussy on full display for him. I have never experienced anything like this before. Sure, Nate and I had sex, but never like this, and I’m almost scared I won’t be able to take it. Chris gets on his knees and starts kissing up the back of the thighs, and I can feel myself dripping down my legs. 

“God, look at you, Ma, you look so pretty,” Chris says while wiping up my slick and putting his fingers in his mouth, letting out a satisfied moan. I clenched, begging for something, anything at this point. “And look at how you respond to me; you're such a good girl.” Chris spreads my legs and buries his face in my pussy, and focuses on my clit. 

“Fuuck Chr…Daddy.” I moan out. He swirls his tongue around my entrance before plunging it fully in, making me buck my hips against his face. “S-Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to move.” I plead. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. I want you to fuck my face like the little slut you are,” Chris says while grabbing my ass. I start fucking myself against his tongue, and I can feel my legs begin to shake. 

“I’m close. I’m so close” I pant, and Chris snakes his arm through my legs and starts drawing lazy circles around my clit. “Yes, please, just like that…nghhh..fuck fuck I am going to cum” I scream out, and I see stars while I ride out my orgasm all over Chris’ face. 

Chris’ POV 

Y/n turns her head to face me and giggles. 

“What?” I smirk. 

“You still have all of your clothes on,” she laughs. I stand up, and she turns to face me and grabs the back of my neck. Our lips smash together, and I let out a moan as she bites my lip and runs her hands through my hair. She grabs my sunglasses off my head and places them on her eyes, breaking the kiss. 

“Against the wall, Daddy,” she barks at me, trying not to laugh. 

“Oh, are you giving orders now?” I smirk. I can feel a wet spot sticking to the tip of my cock. 

“Well, I am the cop, you know? So..against the wall,” she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear. I back up against the wall and watch her unbuckle my belt. 

“Shirt off,” I whisper while taking her police hat off her head and running my hands through her hair. Surprisingly, she listens, taking her shirt off. “Bra, too,” I say. I watch in awe as her tits bounce. “Fuck y/n. You are stunning.” She pulls my boxers down, and my cock springs out, hitting her face. I hiss at the cool air. 

“You’re so big, daddy.” She looks at me through my sunglasses. I just nod and lick my lips. I don’t know how long I will last if she keeps looking at me like that. She kitten licks the tip of my cock, and I can’t help but buck my hips forward, burying my cock in her throat. She hums around my cock, making me throw my head back. 

“You’re taking me so well fuck. I want you to get yourself ready for me, okay, baby? Stretch yourself out for Daddy,” I instruct her while I watch her finger her pussy. I grab her hair fucking her throat, and watch her gag and spit on my cock. She grabs my balls and gives them a firm squeeze. “Fuck yeah, Ma, just like that. You going to swallow all of me, y/n?” I moan out. She nods and looks up at me through her wet eyelashes. My hips stutter as I squeeze my eyes shut and cum down her throat. 

y/n’s POV

I make sure to lap any cum with my tongue as Chris winces at the sensitivity. 

“You are fucking unreal, y/n,” Chris laughs. 

“Oh, I know,” I wink back at him. 

“Are those handcuffs real?” Chris nods at the handcuffs left on the top of the toilet, already getting hard again. 

“Yeah,” I smile shyly back at Chris. “They’re real.” 

“Stand up, turn around, and hands behind your back,” Chris demands, and I do as I’m told. I know he had me stretch myself out, but I can’t help being nervous, considering he is way larger than Nate. Chris walks over, grabs the handcuffs, and cuffs my hands behind my back. 

“Bend”

I bend over the sink and glance up at Chris, who is staring at me. 

“What?” I ask nervously, looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

“You just look so good I can’t even believe my eyes, bro,” Chris says dumbfounded. 

“Calling me bro right now is crazy,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Right..sorry, officer,” Chris winks at me, lines up with my entrance, and grabs my hips. He slides into me slowly without breaking eye contact. He is so fucking huge. 

“Jesus, y/n, your pussy was fucking made for me,” Chris moans and bottoms out. I can feel him in my stomach. “You tell me when to move, baby…you’re taking me so well; such a good girl for me,” he soothes me while rubbing my back. 

“S..slow, please move slow,” I whine out. Chris starts moving slowly, and I rock my hips back, starting fuck myself back on his cock.

“Yeah, baby, you're doing so good. You look so pretty fucking yourself on my cock for me. Can I go faster?” Chris breathes out. 

“Please, Daddy,” I moan. Chris wastes no time and starts to pound into my pussy. 

“Deep breaths, baby, you can take me, fuck you’re so wet,” Chris mumbles and lifts my leg until my knee is on the sink. “Fucking look at you, Ma, so fucking good for me,” he pants. I just nod my head. “Have I fucked you, dumb baby? Too tired to talk to your daddy?” Chris laughs.

“Gonna cum” I mumble out, hardly able to talk.

“Go ahead, baby cum all over my cock. Make a mess all over me, y/n,” Chris grunts. I scream out cumming all over him while babbling. Chris continues to pound into me.

“Dad..dy too sensitive,” I whimper.

“I know, baby, I’m almost there, so good for me,” Chris huffs. “Can I cum in you, baby?” he questions.

“Please, Daddy, please come in me,” I beg.

“Yeah, want me to fuck my baby into you? Want everyone to know you’re mine, you dirty slut” Chris’ hips stutter, filling me with his hot cum. We both hiss while he pulls out of me. 

“Here, let me get those cuffs off of you. Do your arms hurt?” he says, looking concerned.

“Just a little, but I’m okay though.” I smile at him. Chris helps me clean myself up and presses a kiss on my forehead.

“I hope this isn’t it. I’d like to hang out more, you know? I have a lot to make up for you,” Chris says.

“I don’t think this will be the last time, Chris, but I have to go find Madi,” I laugh. 

“She’s going to kill you,” he says while shaking his head.

“I know I have 40 missed calls.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day. 

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin… 

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander. 

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you. 

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile. 

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails.  Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile. 

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly. 

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak. 

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

[lunarfleur]

Like He Deserves ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @enchanting-violet @nagi3seastorm @milesmolasses @luvjunie @n1cole-ghost @urfavnegronerd @hearts4hobie @mayeluvsu

Warnings:Lowkey depressive episode but nothing bad, just Miles being in a slump.

A/N: Me and @kombuuuu were talking about this, so this is my biggest contribution to the fandom.

This is x gender neutral reader!

The first thing Rio Morales noticed when she walked in the door was that your shoes were still there. They weren’t her son’s. She knew that.

She peeked into Miles’s bedroom. The lights were off, except for the candle lit on Miles’s desk. It made the room smell like vanilla. Miles loved vanilla candles. She leaned against the door frame when she heard small mumbles coming from his bed.

You laid on one side of the bed, wearing one of Miles’s t-shirts. He laid next to you while you ran your fingers over his face, pressing kisses over the skin.

“Dad woulda loved you,” Miles mumbled. You hummed in response. His voice was low and slurred, filled with exhaustion.

“Yeah?”

“I miss him, ya know?”

“I know.”

You kisses over his cheek and jaw, reaching your hand up to scratch his head.

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.”

You kissed his lips softly, humming.

“Of course.”

You exited his room 15 minutes later, closing the door behind you softly before walking into the living room. Rio looked up at you. You stopped dead in your tracks.

“Um, I was just leaving.” You forced the words out quickly.

It was 2 hours past the time you were supposed to leave. You had already texted your own guardian about being home late. Miles, however, had not texted his mother. He hadn’t thought.

“Sit with me.”

“What?”

“Come on, siéntate conmigo.” Rio patted the spot next to her on the couch. You hesitantly placed your bag on the floor and sat next to her. She sipped on some tea, leaving you waiting anxiously.

You knew Rio wasn’t fond of you. You just didn’t know why. You were always polite, offering to help around the house, never calling her by her first name. Yet, she was always giving you that same disproving look.

“She’ll warm up to you,” Miles always said. You doubted it.

“So-”

“Miles loves you.” She cut you off firmly, looking you in the eyes.

“I know.” She paused for a moment, only for a moment, before sighing.

“That boy has always been a giver. He gives and he gives. It’s around this time of year he seems to run dry.”

You nodded. Of course you knew. It was around the anniversary of his dad’s death. He missed his dad more than anything. It always had an affect on him.

“I can’t tell you how you feel about him,” she continued, “but if you’re just going to end up hurting him, then I don’t want you to come back. His entire life Miles has given. It’s time he gets something back. It’s what he deserves.”

You thought on it. Miles was always giving. Always offering. He offered to do your homework, to make your food. Never once had he made you feel anything less than loved.

“Believe me, mam. I’d set myself on fire before I ever hurt him.”

Rio went quiet for a minute, thinking about your words. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head.

“My son has a good heart.”

“I know.”

“You need to be careful with it.”

“I’d be a moron to be anything less.”

Rio nodded at you.

“You need to love him like he deserves.”

“I do.”

For the first time since you had met her, she smiled at you. At you. And it wasn’t forced, it was genuine. It was warm. It reminded you of all the times Miles had smiled at you.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Rio nodded again, exhaling in satisfaction. That was it, apparently. That’s all she wanted.

You stood up, picking up your bag and walked to the door. You had already kissed Miles goodnight. Rio followed behind you. You opened the door.

“Thank you.”

You turned around, humming in confusion.

“Thank you,” she repeated, “for what you do for him.”

You smiled.

“Always.

It’s what he deserved.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 7

(A/N) Once again a bit shorter, but I think this was a good place to break. ALSO WHAT KINDA DRESS DO WE WANT TO WEAR? Send me some ideas if you want. (I'm definitely thinking high slit, so he can easily finger her during the car ride home. 😏) Also, I couldn't help myself with the Gordon Ramsay cameo.

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: kissies, fluff, Simon is fucking smitten, a lot of money spending

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

When Simon told you that you’d go grocery shopping, you didn’t expect him to take you to the most exclusive wholesale supermarket that existed. To get in, you had to get a card, and to get that card you had to be super rich. But of course, Simon had one.

“Ah, Mister Riley, welcome.”

Even the staff was dressed as if you had just walked into a five-star hotel.

“Will you be needing a shopping assistant today?”

The woman at the front desk smiled and fluttered her lashes as she handed him a champagne flute, trying her best to look as desirable as possible. You couldn’t help but grumble some obscenities under your breath, just loud enough for Simon to catch, who quickly started chuckling. That brought the woman’s attention onto you, and suddenly, she no longer looked as friendly as before.

“Oh, and who is that?”

If looked could kill, the two of you would be having a battle for life and death, clashing swords and dodging each other’s blows. But when Simon wrapped his strong arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, a proud smile on his face, the woman’s eyes widened.

“My girlfriend. And no, we won’t be needing an assistant today, just a cart or two. And could you go ahead and issue my lovely lady a card as well?”

She smiled through clenched teeth and you couldn’t help but smirk at her, victorious in your little battle. While still trying to act as pleasantly as possible - in which she tragically failed - the woman asked for your name and date of birth, and once you gave both to her, she disappeared into the back, before reemerging with a slick, black card in her hand.

“Here you go, Miss.”

You gave her your best fake smile and took the card, placing it in your purse without even glancing at it. No way you would give her the satisfaction of geeking out over it, right in front of her.

Once everything was handled, Simon grabbed a cart and walked in, one arm still wrapped around your waist. As soon as you were out of eyesight of the woman, you pulled out the card again and marveled at it. When you started your business, you wished you had access to this store. But you knew that it would always be a dream…well until now.

“I can’t believe I have this.”

Your eyes were still fixed on the card, even while you were walking, and Simon had to pull you closer to keep you from running into things. He just watched you, amusement sparkling in his eyes, while he grinned.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He pressed a quick kiss to your head, before focusing on the task at hand. And after a bit more marveling, you did too.

As if he knew the layout of the store like the back of his hand, he led you to the baking supply section, where you realized, that maybe one cart wasn’t enough.

“Just take one of each, and tell me the amount you need, we’ll take care of everything at the checkout.”

You nodded and did as you were told, grabbing everything from flour and butter to sugar and decorations. By the end, the cart was overflowing with things, and you weren’t even done.

“Then I need fruits, vegetables, and meats.”

Simon glanced at you, while he was driving the cart through the store, already heading in the direction of the checkout.

“I have some people for that, we’ll go to them.”

You nodded, curious about his connections, but not saying anything.

At the checkout, Simon went through every item and the amount you needed, the clerk writing down everything he was saying before Simon asked him to have everything delivered to your bakery. The clerk confirmed the items once more and accepted Simon’s card as he handed it over. As the clerk was about to read out the total, Simon quickly clasped his hands over your ears, making sure you couldn’t hear it. You glared up at him, knowing that he was once again spending hundreds - if not thousands of pounds on you. Once it seemed to be safe, Simon lowered his hands and took his card and the receipt back, folding it and quickly hiding it in his pocket, so you couldn’t look.

The cart was taken away, and you had to admit that it felt weird walking out of the store empty-handed, but once you saw that car Simon and you had taken, you quickly realized why. It would never have fit.

As you were walking through the parking lot, you saw a familiar figure out of the corner of your eyes. But no, it couldn’t be.

“Is that Gordon Ramsay? Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

You whisper-shouted at Simon, who quickly turned to look in the direction you pointed, a smile spreading on his lips, as he started to steer you in that direction. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he just pulled you along as he approached the famous chef.

“Gordon!”

The man turned around, at first he looked confused, but once he got a good look at Simon, a smile spread on his face.

“Simon! How’re you doing, mate?”

Simon was mates with Gordon fucking Ramsay? Of course, he bloody was.

“Good good, just wanted to introduce you to my girl. She’s a big fan o’ yours.”

Shyly, you peeked out from behind Simon’s massive frame and waved at the chef. He smiled and reached out his hand.

“Oh, lovely to meet you, I’m Gordon.”

You quietly introduced yourself, slightly shaking from excitement.

Simon and Gordon chatted for a bit, keeping you in the conversation, and you slowly started to warm up. In the end, you were even joking with Gordon and you had stars in your eyes as he noted down your bakery’s address, promising to swing by.

“How about you come to the 1890 tonight? I’ll be there, cooking.”

Simon glanced at you, and when you eagerly nodded, he turned back to the chef.

“Of course, I’ll get one of my guys to babysit Millie and we’ll be there. Is eight okay?”

“Eight is perfect, see you then.”

He nodded at you, before walking into the store and disappearing. With your hand in his, Simon started to walk back to the car, chuckling as you practically bounced up and down next to him.

“I can’t believe I just met Gordon Ramsay. And he is coming by the bakery!”

You squealed in excitement before you realized that you lagged something for this evening.

“Si?”

He hummed, gently squeezing your hand as he typed something on his phone.

“I don’t have a dress for tonight.”

He hummed again, quickly opening the door to the passenger side and ushering you in, only closing said door, once you were all safe and buckled in. With quick strides, he rounded the car and jumped into the driver’s seat, putting on his seat belt, before pulling out of the parking lot.

“I know.”

That was all he said, as he continued driving. You frowned at him for a moment, wondering what he had planned, but you quickly gave up and decided to trust him. He wouldn’t let you embarrass yourself.

Just a minute into the drive, his free hand landed on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he kept his eyes focused on the road. Yeah, he wouldn’t let you embarrass yourself.

After about a half an hour's drive, he pulled into a parking space, right in front of one of the most luxurious boutiques you know and you already knew that this was going to be expensive. But you also knew that it was no use to complain, that was very clear.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for you, helping you out, before wrapping an arm around you to keep you close. During the few steps it took to get to the boutique it felt as if the entire world was watching, as you felt more eyes on you than ever before. And you knew that most of them probably looked at you with jealousy, seeing the man by your side.

But he was yours. As you were his.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy @reader-1290

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[10thmusemoon]

saw your omega yqy post and i must know, if yqy and sj had another baby after shen yuan (after they officially get together and openly COMMUNICATE about their feelings) how would that go? how would sj feel about it knowing that yqy loves him? how would yqy feel knowing (or at least suspecting) that sj is actually looking forward to their second child?

CW: omegaverse, jiuqi, 97

Despite a breeding kink definitely being present I don’t think SJ would want another kid! But that’s not how omegaverse goes so of course there would be another!

There was so much trepidation with the first child, so naturally he’s anxious at the beginning. Jealousy and hunger are such an integral part of who Shen Jiu that he is that he puts himself in a box of how he should feel, how he expects himself to act like he did the first time around. It was such a resentful and miserable time for him that he’s not looking forward to it at all.

SJ is so used to planning for the worst that the good always blindsides him.

A stable relationship means that this time around he doesn’t have to restrain himself at all. SJ can scent yqy as he wishes and bury his face in the sect leader’s neck for hours, getting drunk off the smell of a happy pregnant omega knowing “I did this, qi-ge is this happy because of Me.”

He can enjoy the changes this causes in yqy this time around instead of thinking it’s a parasite changing him into something unfamiliar.

There was a very real fear in yqy that SJ wouldn’t want anything to do with them after Shen yuan was born that just isn’t an issue this time around. Yqy would have been overly independent the first time around, partly because of not wanting to bother SJ but mostly because that’s who he is. When he tries to pull the same shit this time around SJ gets to gleefully bully yqy into resting and being spoiled. For once yqy can’t ignore him to stay up and finish more paperwork because SJ will immediately weaponize the baby’s health against him.

(SJ becomes a menace on Qian Cao peak and MQF morns the time when he knew less about his shixiongs sex life and they used to avoid medical care)

The pregnancy sex is filthy, but more body worship than degradation happening for once. (We’re not talking about the lactation kink but it’s real.) SJ looks at YQY flushed and full, pressed against a nest of the softest most expensive materials available and thinks, “I won. This is mine, mine, mine.”

Pride and smug satisfaction define the second pregnancy.

This is the life Shen Jiu was owed, all the years of hell were for this. Everyone that ever looked down on him was wrong, they would all eventually die with their aspirations on their tongues while Shen Jiu lives as a powerful immortal with a spoiled Qi-ge on his arms.

(The barefoot and pregnant omega fantasy is strong this time around and if only yqy could just stop giving a shit about the sect for two seconds to make it a reality!!)

YQY is over the moon with all this, similar to Shen Jiu there’s less restraint going on and he allows himself the full range of emotions. On more than one occasion he finds himself tearing up with a silent joy that sends SJ into panicked spirals that typically end with a flustered “we could have had this earlier if you weren’t an idiot about things!!”

Not only that but also with jealousy, he isn’t just a thing that belongs to SJ (though he is!) this time around but also someone that has just as much a claim to his beautiful husband. There is a certain smugness to his status a a powerful pregnant omega with an ethereal husband when they have meetings with outsiders. Also he fully milks (lol) his rights as an omega to have his alpha come everywhere (lol x2) with him “for his safety.”

(If YQY wasn’t the sect leader they surely would have been thrown out for public indecency.)

If with Shen Yuan SJ had been a reluctant father with his first pet, then with baby 2 he is suddenly the obnoxious show dog owner that thinks he’s better than you.

The difference is that Shen Yuan was Qi-ge’s baby, and the goodness of him was because of that association, it was the saving grace from the poison he would inherit from SJ.

Baby two is his, they’re all his, because it’s what Shen Jiu deserves. They are his victory and his pride and he radiates condescension for his superior family that he built.

(YQY is so into this baby 3 might be a given)