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The Heart Everbeating
Hi! This story has been in The Works for about a year now, so I hope you enjoy! Warnings for death, Christianity/Catholicism, and everything going wrong in the MCâs lifeÂ
When one man falls for another, they say God, himself, shudders in disgust. Two men peacefully exchanging whispers betwixt the oxeyes and the late eve silence could send all of Heaven into a rage, wheels of flame and feather burning bright with divine wrath. The Spirit scoffs at the embrace of palms, The Son weeps at the embrace of arms, The Father recoils at the embrace of lips. All three were above any such mortal woes and so the Holymen and Holywomen would leap from their confessionals and morning prayers, setting down their scriptures and rosaries in the name of mallets and chains to purge the world of any threat to perfectionâs untouchable paradise, for the loving whispers nestled within the daisiesâpromises to forever support, protect and adore, were far too demonic for the cotton ears of the immortal, immoral Shepard. Yet even once sentenced to the depths of The Nine Rings, no pretend border could halt the sweetheartsâ yearning for one another, no prideful god fully capable of stopping the pounding of deep loveâs heart; The Devil himself knows of and tries not to prevent honest admiration. Layers of wood, of rust, of ash, of soil, could not cease the fire within one manâs soul as he plucked at the freshly bloomed oxeye, near delirious with his burning desire.
   A trail of âhe loves meâs spiralled on the wind as the fiancĂ© limped through the aisle of wrought iron and forsaken stone, his veil of moonlight bathing one man and his wilting bouquet in sensations of ethereal glamour. Hums of melodies yet to be played bounced off the flitting wings of the Calyptra groomsmen all the while, holding back their hunger in the name of the belovedsâ special day. The one man tied back his long, dark hair with the red ribbon his beloved had gifted him, hoping to enchant just as heâd been at their first meeting, continuing his pursuit without so much as a stumble. At the mere thought of meeting once more one manâs mind was overrun with his deepest desires, burning through his ice-coated flesh and igniting the spark which had never truly died, his own wrought iron fence of bone becoming the grates of a roaring coal furnace and as such granting him ample energy on his seemingly endless journey. Truly, one man was ever so far from the halfway pointâa little black house overrun by only the sweetest of alleycatsâbut moments spent alone do slide unto the doorstep of eternity when one is used to moments with his beloved, so one dared not to pause to collect the rapidly disappearing petals, or to pluck fresher flowers, or to feed his dear groomsmen as they continued their song. Instead he chased after the growing stronger aura of his beloved, his darling, as he slowly neared the town gates.
   If the ring of charcoal iron he left behind were to act as a church hallâs supposedly welcoming doors, then the buildings were certainly the rows of family and friends who arrived solely to bare witness to the belovedsâ moment of union as they leaned in close to admire the unearthly beauty one man found himself in possession of, the dewy mist which still hung in the evening air bringing the idea of tears to the candlelit windows that lit up his path. So attractive he felt as he walked the aisle heâd always dreamed of traversing, the scent of his beloved still rested in his lungs and it grew ever stronger the closer he was to the town square. The petals of the oxeyes he had gathered fell less on his gloves and more on the wind, his limbs moving faster the closer he sensed himself getting, one manâs mind growing equally as desperate for the face he so longed to hold once more, when one of his guests spoke and broke him from the trance he willing entered; âMy old friend, is that truly you before me? My, youâre in that beautiful suit! Are you finally to be wed to your beloved?â There upon the porch stood a woman, the patches which crawled across her cheek marking her familiar in appearance, but the silver hair which clung to her head like spiderwebs struck her down as the grandmother of a friend who lived within those exact walls, but certainly she had passed long before one manâs eyes had closed? âCome in, my friend! It is poor manners to arrive to any wedding with an empty stomach!â So dearly did one man wish to see his beloved, to hold, to cherish, to kiss and recover the year that was lost between two meters of wood and mud, but as he always knew her granddaughter to be his old friendâs grandmother was most certainly correct. âOh, my friend, I must lend you a bottle of perfume, as well. Tell me, would you prefer to smell of roses or daises?â
   Traditionally, receptions were to be held once vows had been born and welcomed to the new world, but perhaps tradition could take a knee for the belovedsâ celebration. Only for the moments spent within the old and rickety house, of course, as after the cake was cut one man would return to the aisle and greet his beloved with promises written in a heat of passion and longing. With heat of passion mentioned, one man found it quite impossible to miss how warm the air surrounding the dining table truly was, though that could be blamed on the Battenberg cake and Earl Grey tea that was set before him with unsteady hands. âDig in, my friend!â The older woman sat in the chair across from his own with a smile lined in childish giddy, reminding one man that all the town was abuzz with excitement for the evening that had just arrived, all because he had insisted on paying patronage to a small tailor shop many moons ago. Yes, he remembered that year as if it had played out just moments ago, the one where he slowly fell for the charming tailorâs son who knew his figure better than he did. He remembered the first time they spoke, how he had thanked the young man for his service and complimented his handiwork, and of course, he remembered the shy and flattered smile that offered as response. Certainly, if his mind still held to those magical moments within a small, family shop, then it held what led to the belovedsâ arrival to the small, isolated town. He wished it would forgetâprayed, even, but it held steadfast. Lavender. He despised that colour more than anything, for once upon a time it had infected his life and forced him to the tailorâs shop to be suited for a tux in that very shade. Although, one man would never forget the generosity of the woman in the matching dress, one who shooed them away and took all fault for their escape. He hoped her and her bride would be wed one day. âGoodness, my friend, youâre going to be quite late!â One manâs untouched cake and well-stirred tea were carried off into the depths of the hot house, just as he began to feel⊠sick. He hadnât a clue he could feel sick once his body was beyond death, but as the older woman had exclaimed he had not a moment to ponder. âTake care, my friend!â She called as he shuffled out the door, his groomsmen having awaited his return upon the porch; it would be his night and his night, alone, for only a few minutes longer.
   Then came a buzzing, swirling spirit that twirled through him like wine in the glass of a nobleman, one born of unadulterated anticipation. For simply, he had twirled past the house he had known to be infested with cats but, to his surprise, had then been infested with vines and flowers. He could not find himself time to pause, however, so simply he continued on, the waltz in his step. Four steps at a time led him through an enthusiastic daze of sorting through crowds to meet his beloved at the ballroomâs centre, his own, personal history of wandering grand celebrations providing him and his movements great expertise. Oh, my beloved, his mind had pleaded as he stumbled from one side of the road to the other, his undead heart begging to pound in the pattern it knew so well. One man tightened the knot of the ribbon heâd so carefully laced into his hair, then a memory of how said ribbon had come to be teased him with visions of his beloved; he had been questioned as to what his very favourite colour was and, his gaze locked upon the eyes of the tailorâs son, he had simply said what he saw: Red. Red was a difficult colourâthough nowhere near as difficult as indigoâso all that was offered was a red ribbon. His beloved had apologized in only a most sincere manner but he, oh, he had known that shade oh-so-well, and so, had giddily taken the gift and laced it into his long hair for the very first time. Oh, he would give almost anything to see his belovedâs flustered expression once more, how his red eyes had widened as if to show off all their glittering glory, his glasses falling down his face to assist in their unveiling. One man could not resist then, and had asked if he may. His beloved said yes. Such a beautiful memory had caused his dance through the streets to grow wild and desperate as he near cried out in love and admiration. Delirious, just as he was once he reentered the Erthaâs domain, though that time he was nearly at his belovedâs side, just stood at the edge of a true and real crowd. He could see the red through the shuffling shoulders. He ran for it. One man embraced the figure so tightly that he could tell instantaneously that it was not his beloved in his arms.
   âLet go of my daughter.â Hands rough from the wear and tear of time grabbed at his suit jacket and mercilessly pried him away from the young woman whose face was alight with fear. He knew that face, wellâwell, perhaps only certain features. The puff of her bottom lip he knew heâd kissed before, the batting of her eyelashes he knew heâd felt flutter against his cheek before, the beauty mark at her jaw he knew heâd gushed over beforeâthough certainly it had moved sidesâand the red. He knew that particular shade of red far better than he knew anything else, and he despised how natural it looked when combined with the new shape of her jaw, point of her nose, and texture of her straight hair. That hair always curled when grown that long, though it rarely had a chance to grow past the shoulders. Perhaps his belovedâs sister had appeared in town to comfort him? Oh, he hadnât even considered the existence of his belovedâs grief! Yes, his dear sister must have appeared to stay the past two years with him and assistance him in his recovery! Then why, he questioned as he could not comprehend the answer, did a woman with the exact new features of the girl appear at that moment, stood beside the younger, and took on the appearance of mother and daughter? Hesitant, terrified yet morbidly curious of the truth in hiding, did one man turn to look at the man who still held him by the shoulders. His fear was proved to be founded in fantasy, for he knew that face and its every detail, instantaneously. â⊠My love?â Delirium once again ignited within one manâs shaking chest, and caused him great ecstasy which guided his limbs about his belovedâs shoulders, pulled the two men close together, their bodies perfectly tailored to the otherâs just as they were in their younger years. His pined for those lips like he never had before in all his years of love and admiration for the taller, desperate as he had been all that night without his beloved by his side, and pushed himself to the tips of his toes in a reach that lasted all of three seconds. He closed his eyes and anticipated the warmânear burning sensation of gentle love heâd come to know so well, but he was met with the pin-pricked fingers of a tailorâs hands. âM-My love, IâŠâ Those gorgeous red eyes darted to the two women at their side for truly not a reason, at all, as his beloved had never been the least bit cautious when it came to expressing their undying affectionâat the very least, not in that town. âYou must understand my hesitation,â he whispered as if some godly fear had been implemented into his untainted soul; perhaps by that woman who had yet to learn how rude it was to stare? âYouâve been goneâdead! For thirty years, so how am I to react to seeing your face again?â In response to such words rife with sorrow and conflict, for the very first time in that moonlit evening one man could not think at all.
   âGoodness, my love, I⊠I watched you die in that field of oxeyes! I held your shaking body, I watched the life drain from your eyesâthe blood, as well! Y-Your own father shot you dead and I was the only one who mourned! Now, suddenly, three decades later you return to me? Why so long? Why must you have waited until I had finally moved on and healed?â His own mind was hardly aware of itself in that moment, as it drifted freely in the town square, inquired what the bystanders were thinking, and even what the woman and her daughter were thinking, but he could not bring himself to consider his belovedâs thoughts for he had to have been lying, though that was so far from something he would do especially in such serious situations as the one they were currently in. âMy love⊠Iâve married another.â One man, his body shivering with horror, slowly followed that red gaze that instinctually filled with true love, though not for him. The woman and her daughter stared back⊠equally as horrified. âI didnât believe you were coming backâHow could I believe that? My wife sheâshe taught me how to recover, took her time to heal me, fully. Our daughter is sixteen, now. We are happy.â His beloved squeezed his arm and just as it always was, it comforted his aching heart. âIâm sorry, my love, but if you came back just to see me again, Iâm afraid Iâll have to cut your return, here. My love?â For the very first time in his twenty years of life, one khan ignored the words of his beloved in favour of approaching another. He pulled the precious treasure from his hair and took the womanâs wrist, where he then placed it in her shaking palm and turned to the younger woman, to whom he offered the wilting oxeyes to, continuously numb despite her gratefully taking it.
   Then, with a final look to the beloved and his beautiful familyâwith the additional press of a handkerchief to his one functioning tear ductâone man quietly left the village.
#the heart everbeating#original story#writers on tumblr#tragedy#likes are highly appreciated but reblogs are preferred!#me every time I write a story: Is this gothic literature?#gothic lit#original gothic lit#original character#original characters#original tragedy#tw death#tw christianity#tw catholicism#anyway#I assume youâre reading these tags after reading the story#if so please tell me how it is!#any positive feedback or constructive criticism is highly appreciated#thanks for reading!
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Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader
synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attentionâjoining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteerâ
warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, heâs so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending
w.c- 8.2k (have faith)
a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!
When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old.Â
You were the daughter of his motherâs friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face.Â
It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoruâs mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.
And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you.Â
âDon't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.â His mom said before scooting herself with your mom.Â
Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word.Â
He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking âyou want to play this?âÂ
You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. âIt has vibrant colours.âÂ
Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. âIt's called mario kart.â
âOh.â Your eyes widened as he revealed the name.Â
âDo you know how to play it?â You shake your head at his question. âThen I can teach you!âÂ
âReally?âÂ
âYeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.âÂ
By the time satoruâs mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games.Â
That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur.Â
By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you.Â
Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school.Â
You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind.Â
Y/nâ he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unlessâ you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you.Â
However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry.Â
Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes.Â
He wanted to say âhiâ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then.Â
âOi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!â one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. âsorryâŠtaking a break!â He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench.Â
He recognised the brown haired girlâYura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?
The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him.Â
Class 1-2.
Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind.Â
As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours.Â
He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom nowâ which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him.Â
That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight.Â
As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat.Â
With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seatâfirst row second desk, way far than hisâ fourth row last desk.Â
That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him.Â
The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying âhelloâ! Maybe even ask for your number.Â
Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class.Â
Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone.Â
Satoru eventually came up with another planâ excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lessonâ except for you.Â
This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.
This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours.Â
His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change.Â
So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school.Â
âSince we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.â the student council president announced before leaving the council room.Â
Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire schoolâs. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat.Â
Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag.Â
You flinched.Â
Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze.Â
One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.
Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently.Â
The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.
âyouâŠum arrange the desks everyday?â He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. âYes.âÂ
Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy.Â
He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace.Â
That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others.Â
The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away.Â
You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining.Â
He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious.Â
He knew heâd to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.
Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you.Â
And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.
Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse.Â
He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection.Â
Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found.Â
He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18.Â
He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him.Â
âWe need a new artist to cover up for this concert.â said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. âWhy? What happened to ren?âÂ
âGot himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.â Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass.Â
âShould visit him then.âÂ
âForget it.âÂ
âWhy?â frowned satoru, geto suguruâhis best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused.Â
âNanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.âÂ
âDid yaga find out about this?âÂ
âFortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,â geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, âif it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.â
âlucky I'd sayâŠso what now?â The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete.Â
Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento.Â
They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band posterâ hand-drawn. It'd become a little traditionâ a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have toâÂ
âFind a new one.âÂ
ânanaââ geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. âNanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.â
âHow am I supposed to?âÂ
âWell I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.âÂ
âSame goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.
He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes.Â
Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe.Â
âSup!âÂ
Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do.Â
âAll good?âÂ
âYeah, what do you need?âÂ
âJust a little favour.âÂ
âAnd what that might be?âÂ
âGet an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, yaâ know about his ex,â shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. âI've two more packs to offer.âÂ
Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. âOkay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.âÂ
âYes pleaseâŠâÂ
âI'm not doing it for cigarettes yaâ know.âÂ
âMhmmmâ satoru nods his face dramatically.
âGet the other two packets out.âÂ
âSure.âÂ
Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home.Â
And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.
Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders âso this is the club,â chewing a gum, âand this is satoru gojo.âÂ
âHiâŠâ you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind.Â
Itâs you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.
âGojo?â Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you.Â
âWoah,â shokoâs face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, âwhen did you start being all formal?âÂ
You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of âshut upsâ.Â
âI'mââÂ
âY/n.â satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. âY/n, i know.âÂ
You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.Â
âYou know her?â shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him.Â
âWe went to the same high school.â You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes.Â
His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.
âKayâ I'll leave you guys to talk then.â She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club.Â
âSoâŠyou're the only one?âÂ
âHuh?â
âIn the bandâ i meanâŠâ
âOh noâ he dragged, âthere are two more members along with the back musiciansâŠâÂ
You humm, taking a proper look at the club.Â
âYou like it?âÂ
âIt has vibrant colours.âÂ
Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.
âThe jazzies,â you read the name of their band aloud, âwhy jazzies? You only play jazz?âÂ
âNoâŠwe play all sorts of musicâŠit's just a name suguru chose for the band.âÂ
âyou do originals?âÂ
âBoth originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.âÂ
Your mouth forms a little âoâ as satoru explains to you.Â
âgeto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?âÂ
âYou know him?â satoruâs brows furrowed. âWhom?â you ask.
âgetoâŠgeto suguru.âÂ
âOfc, he was in the same class as us.âÂ
âOh.âÂ
Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter.Â
Satoruâs eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.
âYou didn't answer my questionâŠâ
âI guess I found you for our band.âÂ
When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.
âYou know how to play?âÂ
âErrâŠno.âÂ
âI can teach you.âÂ
He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you.Â
âHold the fretboard with your left hand,â satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, âand bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound holeâ yep that's right,â he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms.Â
âNow, pluck the chords for me,â his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings.Â
âLike this?â you ask him.
âYes, you're doing very well.âÂ
The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it.Â
Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart.Â
Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes.Â
Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks.Â
Satoruâs face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips.Â
âSATOâRUâ oh,â geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch.Â
He quickly leaves your hand.Â
âY/n??â Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile.Â
âHi,â you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. âI'm here to volunteer.âÂ
âYou do?âÂ
âYeahâŠâÂ
âThat's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talkââ satoru smacked him mid sentence.Â
Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.
Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes.Â
âFor that I might need your numberââÂ
âI- i can send it to herâŠâ Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you.Â
âYeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.âÂ
âKky!âÂ
You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave.Â
âWait!ââ satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. âT-take it.âÂ
âAhâ no I can't do that.â
âTake it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.â he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably.Â
âNo i reaââ
âconsider it as a giftâ from me.âÂ
You frowned a bit but agreed anyway.Â
âThat's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!âÂ
He waved back to you.Â
âWhat was that?â Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left.Â
ânothing.âÂ
Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it.Â
Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members.Â
He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him.Â
You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. âWoah! You really did a great job.âÂ
âThis is much better than renâs.â says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.
âSatoru?âÂ
âY-yes.âÂ
âYou liked it?âÂ
âI loved it. It has vibrant colours.â You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently.Â
It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving.Â
And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time.Â
His heart fluttered at the thought.Â
âI will be there at your concert,â you say, turning your back to him. âAll the best!âÂ
The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds.Â
The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the threeâ geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set.Â
The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins.Â
Will you be cheering too?Â
Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience.Â
And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music.Â
His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him.Â
The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it.Â
The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: âWhere Our Blue Is.â
As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform.Â
The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him.Â
The still air felt electric as he approached you.Â
âyou liked the show?âÂ
âOfc it was amazing!!â The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.
âIt was really good.â you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance.Â
âThanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.â geto remarked, placing his arm around satoruâs shoulders.
âThank you.âÂ
âYou should thank me for bringing her in.â Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, âlet's go steal some shots.âÂ
âOh no i can'tâ i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.âÂ
âKyaahhâ you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifteââÂ
âI will bring it tomorrow.â You say shutting up her whines.Â
âkk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?â
âCount me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.â Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.
âNo but I was about to go home with her ââ yura interrupts.
âSatoruâs fine. You're coming with us.â Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of.Â
Finally he'd be alone with you.
He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out.Â
It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you.Â
âHere,â he gestures with his other hand, âget in.âÂ
âSure.â You say gulping thickly.
The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.
He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. âDon'tâ â he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. âAllow me the honorâ his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt.Â
Your heart practically jolts at his action.Â
The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position.Â
âWhere do you live?â He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway.Â
âIn the downtown.âÂ
âThat's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?â His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.
âI can't let you do that.â
âWhy?âÂ
âSince it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.âÂ
âWho knows, I might be visiting your place often.âÂ
You turn your face from the window to look at him.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âI will have toâ to teach you guitar.âÂ
You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.
âOkay fine. But that still doesn't counts.âÂ
âWhy not!âÂ
Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes.Â
And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain.Â
You liked satoruâs company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for.Â
You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.
You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, howeverâ
Your world was only limited to papers and paints.
So you painted.Â
You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.
You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.
But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life.Â
But how can you?
How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care.Â
How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?
Or maybe it's just your overthinking.
Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special.Â
âWhat are you thinking baby?â
You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.
âHow many times do I have to tell you not to call me thatâŠâÂ
âNot my fault you aren't paying attention to meâŠâ he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder.Â
âHave you always been this hungry for attention?â you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couchâ of the club.
âI've been starving.âÂ
You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break.Â
Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other.Â
âAre you really skipping on me?â He looked at you with puppy eyes.Â
âI've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.â You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts.Â
Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, âI'll be there. You're going to do great.âÂ
An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely notâ
âI will be going then. All the best for your concert.âÂ
You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. âWait I will dropââÂ
âWho's leaving?â shoko barges in with yura and others.Â
Satoru points at you.Â
âI just got here. You can't leave already.â
âYup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.âÂ
Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.
They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, âwhat do you think about gojo?âÂ
âHuh?!â You shout over the music, unable to hear her.Â
She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.
âWhatâ âÂ
âWhat do you think of gojo?âÂ
A burning sensation hits you slowly as shokoâs question registers in your mind.
You ears turn red.Â
âEhâŠum h-heâs a nice guy. A nice musicianâŠandââ
âAnd?â Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face.Â
âA-a nice friend.âÂ
âJust a friend?â You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications.Â
Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. âI think he's interested in you,â you choked on air at her remark. âNo?âÂ
Yura shrugged.Â
The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt.Â
Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.
âBruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!â Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered.Â
Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face.Â
The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fanâs boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.
âWhat do you think of shokoâs remark?â said yura, looping her hand around your arm.Â
âWhat?â You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy.Â
âAbout gojo being interested in youâŠâÂ
âI-i don't think so.âÂ
You try to laugh it off.
âYeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.âÂ
Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened beforeâ not now again.Â
Yuraâs right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for youâ because he's kind. And you're no special.
The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.
The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch.Â
âDid I do something wrong?â he asked warily.
âNo.âÂ
Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him.Â
Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home.Â
It was yesterday youâd allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor.Â
He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset?Â
You'd said it was nothing.
Then why?
What the fuck did he messed up?
Satoru missed you terribly and violently.
He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. âI'm kinda sick so I won't be going.â This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber.Â
You lied to him.Â
âCome with me to their concert today.â Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line.Â
âI'm sorryââ
âNo you're not so sorry. Tomorrowâs Saturday, come with me, gojoâs getting mad without you.â
You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.
âWhat's wrong?â shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table.Â
âNothing.âÂ
âThen come.â
You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal.Â
And it wasn't, except for satoruâs piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyoneâ including him.Â
âGod, haven't seen you in so long.â geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. âSatoru missed you like crazy.âÂ
You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine.Â
One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room.Â
âI should go and check what's the probleââ you try sprinting your way out the door, âwaitââ when satoru stops you.Â
His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall, pinning you caging your body.Â
âWhat's wrong with you?âÂ
âGojo you're hurting mââÂ
âGojo?â His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, âwhy? Why must you do this to me?âÂ
âDo what?â You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.
âThisâ why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?â He sucks in a breath âYou know I can't live like thatââÂ
âwhy?âÂ
âDon't pretend like you don't knowâŠâÂ
âno no don't say it,â you throw your hands up in the air frantically, âdon'tâ I canât fall againâŠnoâ I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I canât help it if I don'tââ
âI love youââ he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.
âNo you don't.âÂ
âYes I doâ what do you mean you can't fall again,â he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. âYou have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you goâ make no mistake baby, if there's anyone Iâd ever kneel forâ it'd be you.âÂ
Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest.Â
âB-but I wrote you a note confesââÂ
âWhat note? I neverâŠ.â confusion twisted on his face bitterly.Â
âYou threw it in the dustbinâ the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.â
His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from youâ nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.
âYura told meââ you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago.Â
She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.
Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile.Â
âTell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?â he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm.Â
You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip.Â
He pulls away again.
âTell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?â He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.
His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. âWould I be breathless the same way as I'm now?âÂ
His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.Â
âSatoru, what if someone walks inââ your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. âLet themâŠâ he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.Â
Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. âNngh âtoru, youâreââ small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm.Â
âShh baby! Let me take youâ he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well.Â
He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud.Â
Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness.Â
He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. âI want to eat you out.âÂ
Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit.Â
âFuck âtoru.â he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, âI am fucking you baby.â He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. âHere and rawâ he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit.Â
Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.
He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers.Â
He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.
âSo fucking nasty for me huh?â He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you.Â
A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. âOhâ fuck..â you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. âDon't even dare closing on meâŠâÂ
The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.
Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoruâs face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside.Â
Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru.Â
âNnâtoru they startââ your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry.Â
âYeahâŠcum for me babyâ his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck.Â
Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.
âTell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?â He straightened himself up, âand then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?â his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.
The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.
Noâ you mouthed.Â
Satoruâs gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum.Â
You gape at his girth.Â
It was big.
And fucking thick.Â
Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, âLike what you seeââ
You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in.Â
A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.
He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size.Â
Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him.Â
He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.
âTell meâ hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?âÂ
You were at a loss for words.Â
The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard.Â
When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent.Â
Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him.Â
He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss.Â
âYou like it don't yaâ hmm fuckâ so tightââÂ
Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.
âTell meââÂ
ThrustÂ
âdo youââÂ
ThrustÂ
âstill think I'm just being polite?â
Thrust.
The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans.Â
The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall.Â
Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, âyes that's it love,â your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, âcum for meâŠâÂ
Your mouth forming a little âoâ, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.
You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.
Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.
The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins.Â
None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair.Â
He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall.Â
âTheyâ they started performing without youâŠâ you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you.Â
âI told them to do soâŠâ he shouted over the noise.Â
You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. âI'm sorryâŠI avoided you.âÂ
âHere I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.âÂ
You chuckle at him, back to his normal selfâ your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoruâŠ
He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap.Â
âI missed you.âÂ
âI missed you too.âÂ
âNo but I missed you like crazyâŠâ he pouted. ây/n be my girlfriendâŠplease.âÂ
Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.
To paint his heart with your love.
âI will.âÂ
âno waitâ marry me instead!â
You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.
Finally he would be yours.Â
you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. Youâd also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.
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itâs too bad youâre married to me | m.l
âhusband!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 canâtâ nothing can prepare him for whatâs 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 â please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social mediaâs. 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 itâs own part. ynâs character here isnât the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol
âNo one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because itâs 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.â â 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, heâd 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. Thatâs 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.
âYouâre so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!â He groans, eyes tightly shut. âI love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasnât gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.â
Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harderâ 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. Markâs thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldnât take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.
Thatâs 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.Â
âAh~ y/n⊠Please, just a bit more. AhhâŠâ 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. Markâs 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 couldnât handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Markâs 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.Â
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.
âWhat I wouldnât do to be like this with you forever.â The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving.Â
Markâs hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, heâd 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.Â
âMorning,â your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. âReally good morning.â 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.Â
It didnât 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. âHey, can you do me a favor?â Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.
âWhat is it?â You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. âJustâ can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? Itâs for Venetiaâs pregnancy leave party but I donât have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?â
Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. âOh⊠baby, you already know I canât. I donât even know where it is.â He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout.Â
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.
âI guess, yeah⊠itâs fine Iâll figure it out then.â Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didnât 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 wasnât playful anymore. âGo shower, youâll be late.â Still, your voice held no annoyance.Â
He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. âOr we could shower togetherâŠâ he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated. Â
You didnât 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. Youâve 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 couldnât let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself.Â
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 âthank youâ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him.Â
âYouâre not eating?â 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 werenât eating then and there, you just didnât want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work.Â
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.Â
âWant me to drop you off? Youâre gonna have to hurry though.â The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing youâd wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed.Â
Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. âIâm walking the entire week, donât worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.â
How couldnât he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didnât help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasnât able to pick you up or simply didnât feel like it.
âYou know I donât like it when you ride the bus, itâs always filled with⊠men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.â
Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?
Markâs lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. âBy 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.â
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. âYeah⊠Iâll do it after work.â 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. âIâll see you at night, baby.â You couldnât 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.
âMarkie, morning!â Johnnyâs cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger manâs shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee.Â
Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didnât see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyunâs phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if theyâd 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.
âJaehyun, youâre down for lunch?â Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the â7â icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. âUh, maybe next time. I have something to do.â An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle.Â
âLunch with a special friend?âÂ
âActually, Iâm helping your wife.â
He didnât want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on âyourâ. âShe asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...â Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.
The air was shifting to hostility the more Markâs expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7âs glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldnât 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.
âAlways? What do you mean, always?â Mark turns his back to the other two âalmost to shield himself from the accusatory numbersâ, 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. âI mean, I canât say no to her⊠if sheâs busy and canât run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!â Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.
Mark didnât speak, his mouth forming an âOâ 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.
âIâm gonna head backâŠâ Johnnyâs voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elderâs eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that heâll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.
One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark wouldâve 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 didnât let the thought go the entire day and it didnât 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.
âHiâŠâ your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation.Â
âHey⊠why are you so late?â He questions, accusatory for something heâs not sure what heâs 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.
âAnother cheesecake?â 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.
âHave you eaten?â Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. âYeah! We had a dinner party for Venetiaâs leave.â âI told you about it..â 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 hadnât 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. âSeventh cheesecake this month isnât it?âÂ
His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. âYeah, why not?â Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didnât add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there.Â
Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didnât know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true.Â
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 didnât feel them. Odd.Â
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.Â
âDecided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/nâ
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 didnât want to, thatâs a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isnât bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see thatâs fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right?Â
HmmâŠ
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.
âDumbass.â He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; youâd 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 âxâ crossed it in red. He didnât think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?
Curiosity still got the best of him, heâs never seen you write messily. Everything youâve 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 xâs 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 Venetiaâs leave cake
Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldnât 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 couldnât and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadnât picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands mustâve 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.Â
Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: âJungwooâ and âJaehyunâ. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake.Â
Ironic, isnât 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.
âKeep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.â
âDinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and itâs growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. â 03.29.08, 22:37.â
Last nightâs date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didnât 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.
âWonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I donât think he even finishes an entire one in a month and Iâve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. Itâs 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.âÂ
The last part stung horribly. It didnât 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 heâd make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyunâs and Jungwooâs help over his.Â
He also hadnât 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.Â
The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; âLunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.â
Itâs 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 didnât 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 shouldnât be bad. But he couldnât 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 â7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same â7â 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 areaâ Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section.Â
His initial jealousy wasnât 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 thatâs why youâve 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 didnât respond in the arguments heâd 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 itâ 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 didnât 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: âLet it all out, you donât deserve this.â Every time he said those words, youâd slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.
The perplexed expression on Markâs 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 youâd 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 didnât 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 couldnât excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didnât 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? âI know Iâve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? Whatâs your journal all about?â No, he canât let you know heâs been snooping, let alone have you think heâs 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 Jungwooâs voice.
âIf you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this wonât end well. You canât just conform to keep him with you and let him do all heâs doing. You canât let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you donât speak, God wonât hear you. And heâs not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?â
It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrestâ whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.
âMark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.â So which is it?â Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. âSeems God canât make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.â
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 didnât become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.
He wouldnât say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest heâll 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: âThey long to see you.â 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 werenât stupid after all, heâs not the only one whoâs read someoneâs secret stash of letters.Â
Thatâs the only time he thinks youâve 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.Â
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 itâs midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married coupleâ one of the spouses was up to something.
Thatâs 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, youâd 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.
âWhen did you get home?â His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers.Â
âMaybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.âÂ
Mark knew what jealousy felt like, heâs 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.Â
âYou didnât say you were going out with Jungwoo.â That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didnât want to have any reaction but he canât 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. Youâve had enough of your supervisor for that.Â
âCompany dinner meeting, Mark⊠I told you about the presentations.â 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 couldnât be bothered enough to remember.Â
Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadnât written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect.Â
âYou couldâve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?âÂ
âWould you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.â
Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didnât 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 youâre defending him.
Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, youâll avoid any further action.
âGo back to bed, love. Iâll be there in a bit.â
He didnât 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? Heâll sulk like he is not at fault.
âOh, I think youâre holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fineâŠâ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight.Â
A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadnât asked him for any favors. Times before heâd be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you werenât baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?
No! Stop! Mark knows youâd never do anything like that, youâre not her, thatâs a huge reason he fell for and married you. You arâ were perfect.
But then, why havenât 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 couldnât see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.
âWhat are you doing?â His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. âNothing.â 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 didnât 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.Â
01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this nightâs 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 itâs no use tonight.
âI 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.â 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 heâd 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.
âGuilt 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 itâs fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?â âWhat a way with words,â Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.
âJungwoo 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 theyâre easy so I can do them but itâs nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. Thatâs selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No⊠not at their expense at least...â
00:59 at the time you began writing that.
He didnât like that. Heâs read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.
He wonât 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 thatâs not him, thatâs 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 youâre letting frustration blind you.Â
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 wasnât 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 heâs not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.
âHere, 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 arenât prepared.â 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.Â
Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadnât noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadnât heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically.Â
Thatâs 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 didnât 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 otherâs 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. âY/n, hi!â He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. Youâre not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, itâs the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.
Itâs 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.
âWhat are you doing here?â Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you havenât voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasnât 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 didnât have things ready.
Clearing her throat, âIâm going to go order⊠The card?â She extends both hands, Mark takes out their managerâs card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesnât take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if itâs a glare or if thatâs how you look at someone when no longer adoring.
âManager sent us to get something for a meeting.â He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and thatâs all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. âIâve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you donât know where this place is.â A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. Itâs not pleasant, at all, but you canât 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. âWe can talk about this later, pretty girl.â 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. âNo, itâs cool, itâs fine. I justâ donât worry about it. Iâll see you later at home, okay? Okay.â You didnât wait for a response and habits donât die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least heâll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.
Of course youâre not going to be in his ear when youâre on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems youâll be blowing someone elseâs ear off and itâs likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortionâ 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, heâd 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 thereâs something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs heâs 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 donât care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door heâs 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 doorâ it creaked.
âMorningâŠâ 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 shouldâve 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.
âMorning? Itâs nearly two.â Jaehyun begins, âCan you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?â Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesnât change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.
âCan you help me find something, then?â 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. âWhat are we looking for?â You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.
âWhy didnât you tell me they were coming?â He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. âTheyâre just fixing some stuff.â You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you.Â
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 heâs 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.Â
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. âSay somethingâŠâ He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. âPleaseâŠâ 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 dispositionâ Mark was still aggravated.
Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. âWhy didnât you ask me to help instead of them?â He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. âWould you have done it?â There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.
âIâd go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.â 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,
âYouâre being so cruel.â 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.
Iâll 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 doesnât 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, Markâs free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.
âDo you want them to know what weâre doing?â He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. âGood girl.â 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 heâs caused with his tongueâ 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 didnât 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 wonât 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.
âPlease, Mark⊠letâs finish at least.â You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. âYeah? You want that?â 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.Â
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. Heâs simply making fun of you right now and youâre 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.
âBut do you deserve it?â 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 didnât care, he was luxuriating in this.
âYouâre being so cruel.â 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 wasnât just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when youâre so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.
âYou think so?â His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. âDid you really have to cry now?â He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.
âYou jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.â He doesnât dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead youâre 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. âSee how things turn out when youâre patient?â He asks, searching for your eyes but theyâre shut.
The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark canât 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 didnât think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given itâs 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 wasnât for his shirt as of now, heâd be more vocal with how well youâre both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now heâs relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well youâre taking him.
Specifically: âFeel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?â 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.
âFuck, Mark⊠just give me this, pleaseâŠâ 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.
âHow bad do you want it?â He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. âAs much as you.â 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. âThatâs cruel.â He didnât 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 couldnât cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So youâll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.
Jungwooâs and Jaehyunâs 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 heâs made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyunâs big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, heâs 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.
âSit, Iâll fix your plate.â 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.Â
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 Jaehyunâs 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. âIs it that dick?â Â
âOh?â 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. âHavenât you told him to stop bothering you after work?â He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.
How selfish.
âWhat dick? What are you guys on about?â 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 Christâs sake. âWhatâs his name? Ah, whatever⊠Y/nâs floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.â He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. âYeahâŠâ He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing heâs lying and upset.
âYou should really report him, Y/n-ie.â Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Markâs 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.
âY/n-ieâ?! What an insolent fuck! Thatâs 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 wouldnât know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. âMy boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.â 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.
âWhy donât you apply to where we work?â 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 youâll 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, âThen youâd leave me alone.â He pouts childishly. On other occasions heâd laugh too and call him cute but he doesnât think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. âMove to my floor instead.â 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, theyâd reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab.Â
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? Youâre 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.Â
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 werenât being repelled.
âMark?âŠâ You call out, his hands knead your skin. âWhy didnât you tell me?⊠Why did you keepââ âeverythingâ he wanted to say, âthat from me?âÂ
âCome onââ you intend to plead but heâs not letting it go. âWhy?!â He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. âI didnât want to burden you.â You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.
âYouâre my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You canât just keep things from me, how can we be good toâ how can it be good for us?â He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.
âHow can we be good together like this?â He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didnât know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things youâve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he canât help but feel resentful and pained.Â
Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? Heâs 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 Hyuckâs shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of himâ 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 heâs the one to deny you any aid, when heâs 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 werenât used to it at least, and you werenât sure if this act would last. You donât want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.
âOkayâŠâ You nod. âIâm sorry. Iâll tell you things more often, yeah?âÂ
âPleaseâŠâ
You nod and he nods, pleadingly; heâs not content and neither are you.Â
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 didnât 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 wasnât too sure who he was mad with.Â
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 wouldnât affect you in the slightest.
He wouldnât do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasnât 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 heâs 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 couldnât 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 heâs breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but donât tell him that or heâll 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 toâ well, some type of disgust and concernâŠ
âIâll do anything for him but every day Iâm going insane with tense trials. Itâs fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.â
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 arenât fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but thereâs also that part that wonât let him strive for any change and itâs winning.
Change hasnât been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, itâs the reason heâs morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. Thatâs what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesnât know what you truly are.
He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that itâs killing you. Yet, he isnât. Heâs 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 doesnât want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that patternâ albeit, he is not enjoying it either.Â
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 youâre not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your lifeâs mission to slither away from the crowdâ to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when youâre miles away from danger.
âJungwoo 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 itâs back to reality.â
Mark doesnât understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps thereâs a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing youâre hiding so much from him.
Years worth of things and even if you donât 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, youâd 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 shouldnât 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 OâConnor angrily screaming âyouâre a liarâ 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. âFuck me!â He curses frantically, knowing youâll definitely know heâs 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.
âDonât beat yourself up because of him. Iâll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. â Jaehyunie âĄâ
I love you, y/n⊠Not âwe love youâ but âI. I love youâ.
Markâs 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 Markâs 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?
 âDinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO â Snoops XD.â
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. Jaehyunâs 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. âWho else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?â Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. âWho else but her husband? Me!â 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 doesnât change the fact that he didnât nor put effort into doing so.
No, Mark didnât want to think about it. He didnât want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldnât do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. Youâre literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he canât swallow the lump in his throat.Â
He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each otherâs 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 didnât happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didnât become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace.Â
He didnât 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 Markâs. 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 didnât matter if he was or wasnât in Hyuckâs 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 couldnât understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch heâd 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 heâs not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.
âYouâre still a liar, youâre still a liar, youâre still a liar!â
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? Itâs him after allâŠ
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.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â 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. âCanât pay my wife a visit?â 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 youâre 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.
âWell yeah,â You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. âCome, letâs go to the rooftop.â 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.Â
âWell look at that. Your husband, right? Didnât think youâd like the soft onesâŠâ A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasnât 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 doesnât 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.
âThatâs him?â 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.Â
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 wasnât for his babbling one would think he wasnât really affected.
âAnd, I mean, heâs such a dick.â He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich.Â
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. âWhat are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?â 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.
âMark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by nowâŠâ
Fuck.
âNo, yeah, I know. Iâm sorryâŠâ His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. âSorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didnât want traffic to get me.â You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know heâs lying but itâs the thought that counts. âPlus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?â His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so.Â
Heâs received with a shrug. âHeâs a dick, like you said.â You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. âHe doesnât react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.â Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability.Â
âJaehyun?â You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didnât mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark canât say heâs too happy with this information.
âOh, well, when you canât bring what I ask you to, I⊠sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met beforeâŠâ Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. âI think heâs scared of Jae, to be honest.â You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.
âJae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.â 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 shouldnât 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. âHere, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.â 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.
âUm, and donât forget to file a floor change.â 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 âthree missing nowâ before heading towards the elevator.Â
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, âAt first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.â He nods to himself, egging Markâs ringing ears.
Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. Itâs 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 heâs the only one who shows up.
âHe 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.â 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 Markâs smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. âSheâs doing charity work with you.âÂ
Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks youâre 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 theyâve 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.
âNo wonder she has never mentioned you before. Youâre repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.â
A disgusted scowl replaced Markâs poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didnât 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 didnât think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didnât think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadnât 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 couldnât express besides abusing those pages.
He didnât 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 youâre wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he wonât 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. Itâs hard to understand why he didnât feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things youâve 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 Johnnyâs 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 hisâ 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 wasnât 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 wonât say heâs 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 isnât turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well itâs hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: âYou havenât eaten well, stop trying to fool me.â 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 thatâs something that makes Markâs 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 Markâs 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.
âAnd donât tell me to talk to him about it because whatâs the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do butââ Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, âWhy canât he just be a tad bit like you?âŠâ You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasnât a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat.Â
Jaehyunâs 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.
âWhy canât he be just a tad bit like you?...â 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.
Iâm sorry Iâm 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 didnât 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. Heâs seen this beforeâ no, heâs 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 itâs his time to take a leap out of Johnnyâs apartment balcony.
So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, donât 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 Johnnyâs bathroom. Itâs amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Markâs radiating poison as he watches his wife and âfriendâ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasnât for Jenoâs and Yangyangâs cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.
Mark couldnât hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnnyâs sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Markâs own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyunâs 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. Jaehyunâs soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.
Innocent until he opened his mouth. âShh, itâs okay. Let it out, itâs okay, pretty girl.â Jaehyun coos into Markâs eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain.Â
Pretty girl. Thatâs his pet name for you, Markâs pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.
Since when have you become someone elseâs pretty girl?
He couldnât take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.
âWhat the fuck are you doing?!â 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 Markâs insecurities. âJust helping her out, calm down.â
It aggravated him how collected Jaehyunâs 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 werenât 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 lookâ eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.
âI just fucking heard you, sheâs my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?â His finger rose to poke at Jaehyunâs shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Markâs accusations and thoughts that heâd snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.
âSorry, thatâs on me,â Jaehyun slaps Markâs hand away, creating some distance. âI'm just helping herââ âBack the fuck off, sheâs my wifeâŠâÂ
Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. âThen donât be a shitty husband and she wonât have to seek other people to do what you canât! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything Iâm just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.â
Jaehyun bites back, watching Markâs 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 heâs done to those before you.
You believe me like a God, Iâll 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 heâs 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 heâs gone from eye sight, Jaehyunâs 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 wasnât 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.Â
And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Markâs 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 didnât talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didnât 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 Johnnyâs 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 wasnât willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.
âWhy donât you love me anymore?â
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. âWhat are you even taââ
âWhy donât you love me anymore?!â You cut him off, voice raising to something heâs never heard before. âYouâve been so distant. More than usual and I canât take it anymore!â 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.Â
Youâre the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.
His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. âYou think so? I think this is the closest Iâve been to you.â He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. âWhy donât you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. Iâm your husband, why don't you donât you trust me enough?âÂ
Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. âWhen I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.â Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyunâs.
He doesnât want to admit youâre right, âYou ask the most absurd of favors.â He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. âAre you fucking serious? Youâre a grown man who canât cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didnât know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.â You huff, arms flailing like when youâre with Jungwoo.Â
There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. âI thought you said it was fine and weâd drop it there.â He takes into account the glare youâre 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 youâve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.
âItâs not fine when youâre 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?â Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.
He on the other hand doesnât take it kindly, annoyed that youâd think about him that way but that's what heâs 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?
Iâll betray you like a man.
Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child heâs lecturing. âItâs not because of her, I donât 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!â His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.
âBut Iâm right? You donât love me anymore.â
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 itâs hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood.Â
âAll this time I thought you were calm⊠level headedâ but you're the opposite... you donât talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why canât you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?â His voice softens, calming down.
âBecause you donât ever want to listen to me! I canât need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!â 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 youâre right but he doesnât want to believe it.
âI 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.â 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 heâs not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesnât 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 doesnât deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasnât able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directlyâ reality is forcing itself upon him.
âI think we should take a break.â
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
âWhat?â You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. âWhat? Donât be fucking stupid. Weâre married and weâll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.â You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap heâs formed between you two. In all senses.Â
âYouâre just not who I fell in love with anymore.â
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?Â
âYouâre soâ youâre 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 canât you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.â
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 werenât going to let him ruin what youâve built.
âYou fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if youâre still this in love.â 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 canât see what kind of man that you are. If youâre man at all.
âI see you for who you fucking are. Youâre selfish, you donât want to do things for others unless youâre getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. Youâre insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless theyâre more pathetic compared to you.â Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.
âYouâre especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and thatâs your fault. You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because youâre a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet Iâm still with you because I love youâ even with everything you put me through and how you canât help but compare me toâ 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.â
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 wasnât aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldnât doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals.Â
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.
âBetter reason for us to take a break. You deserve better⊠Iâm sorry Iâm the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.â He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed.Â
âI donât care. If I go without you IâllâIâŠâ you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasnât 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.Â
"Y/n please stop... youâre hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. âThen youâre a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.â You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down.Â
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 itâs clear you both wonât take it as such.
Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. âCome on, get your shoes. Iâll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.â He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly.Â
âIâm not drunk.â You let out through gritted teeth. âNo?â He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. âThey were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.â He gives you a quizzical look. âLook in the drawer, Nancy Drew.â You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural heâd 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.
âLaboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.â
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 thatâs 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. Thatâs all Mark knows, thatâs all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.
if you liked happy together: itâs too bad youâre married⊠to me, youâll enjoy: stupid girl !
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#neohub#nct-writers#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#nctcreations18#mark lee smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#mark lee x you#mark lee x reader#nct 127#nct dream#nct#nct fic
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HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omgđđ«¶đ«¶đ«¶ local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If itâs alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISNâT ALR W YOUđđđ Iâm sorry if it isnât okie TTâŠ..
The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires
warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (ÂŽïœĄâą á” âąïœĄ`) ⥠thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
âïœĄâ§ËÊâĄÉËâ§ïœĄâ
Xavier:
Xavier's swordsmanship reached new heights. His speed, strength, and reflexes were enhanced beyond human capabilities, allowing him to execute complex maneuvers with ease and precision. Over the centuries, he continued to practice and perfect his craft, adapting his techniques to the evolving eras and styles of combat. In the present day, Xavier is a highly respected Deepspace Hunter. He is known for his remarkable physical abilities and his combat skills, honed over centuries have proven invaluable in dangerous situations, especially involving violent Wanderers or high-risk scenario's.
You first met at the abandoned warehouse, where your mission brought you together. As you worked side by side, investigating cases and solving crimes, your professional partnership and friendship gradually deepened into a close, intimate relationship.
During a high stake mission, he was gravely injured, and you rushed to his side, eager to tend his wounds. Despite your urgent efforts, he gently pushed you away, his eyes filled with a mixture and resolve. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, searching for the right words and the right timing. This man has even looked it up on the internet on how to tell you but found no help whatsoever. When he explained it all, it all made sense.
Your boyfriend who would sleep a lot during the day, you haven't seen your boyfriend eat much whenever you went on dates let alone cook. But usually when he cooks he would burn it. And a lot of his missions are usually at night.
He consistently turned down your offers to feed him. However, it became increasingly evident that his strength was waning. Over the past few weeks, his supply of blood bags had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him visibly weakened and frail. One evening, as he struggled to maintain his composure, you could no longer just stand by and watch. You confronted him insisting that he accepts your offer despite his protests.
He preferred to bite you on the neck, from behind, pressing you close to his chest. He slipped his arm around your waist, his touch light and comforting. His breath, warm and steady, grazes the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver slightly with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.
He lowered his head, his fangs emerging with a practiced grace. The initial contact was tender, a gentle brush of his lips against your skin, followed by a delicate lick. His fangs, sharp yet controlled, made a brief precise puncture. The sting was momentary, quickly overshadowed by the soothing warmth that followed. The richness of your blood filled him with a profound sense of satisfaction. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring him as he savored the precious essence flowing between the them. When he pulls his fangs out, his tongue reacquaints itself with the flavor of your skin as his palm cradles the back of your head affectionately.
You've also become more accustomed to sleeping at the same time with him. You found out from him that vampires find comfort sleeping close to someone they trust and love.
His protective nature for you is also heightened. He's always vigilant about your safety and goes to great lengths to shield you from harm.
Zayne:
Zayne has adapted to his new existence. He carefully crafted a persona as a surgeon. As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He embraced modern advancements in medical technology and his practice is renowned for it's extraordinary success rates, often performing miracles that seemed beyond the reach of contemporary medicine.
Despite his vampire nature, he sticks to a strict ethical code. He uses his immortality to help those in need, driven by a belief that his eternal life should be used to alleviate suffering and advance medical knowledge. To the public, he is a genius who performs miracles, but no one knows the truth until you came along in his life.
I think he would also love arts. As a vampire that's been alive for centuries, he would love to talk to you about art, literature, or show you around the museums that interest him. His extended lifespans gives him the opportunity to witness and absorb various cultural movements over the centuries so he'd gladly talk to you about it all.
He was alive centuries ago so his manners and chivalry are always timeless with you. He holds the door open, pulls out chairs, and showers you with tradional gestures of affection.
Truth is, he is terrified of hurting you and will genuinely avoid you if it means to keep you safe. However, his bloodlust continues to get worst with his tender feelings towards you as you continue coming back for a patient checkup or anytime you two would be together. His mind racing with a jumble of anxious thoughts, 'What if you feared him after telling you?', 'What if he becomes addicted and sucks you dry?' The idea of losing you absolutely drove him mad.
When it came to eventually telling you, you weren't afraid of him, which made him relax. You both talked about your boundaries and your safety.
You wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression but he would actually be nervous. He usually drank blood from blood bags and poured into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was terrified of what your blood would to him.
When you finally convinced him, he would make sure you were okay as he pushed your hair out of the way. He preferred to bite you on the neck from the front, pressing you close to his chest. Your hand would clench around his shirt, tensing up due to the idea of it hurting.
He would be slow, gentle, and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he runs his hands along your waist. As his nose brushed against your neck, he drew in your irresistible scent with a deep, lingering breath. He positions his fangs at your throat and pressed down.
You gasp at the sudden, sharp sting of pain, and he immediately begins to comfort you, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Eventually, you would become relaxed in his embrace as you wait for him to finish feeding. His entire body would protest, but he'd resist the urge to pull away, relishing each drop of your blood with a palpable hunger. He'd worry he'd taken too much.
When he finally drew back he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance puts his fears to rest. Gently, he'd help you settle into a seat, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder before he went to fetch some snacks to help you regain your strength back.
After weeks of feeding, his hunger was finally full. He no longer needed to feed with any regularity; he could comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn't drink from you unless it's absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he's so weak he couldn't even hold his pen anymore.
However if the time came again and you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He'd have bandages and wraps nearby in case of any mishaps, along with snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward. The feeding would take place in your shared resting chamber, ensuring you could relax afterwards.
Rafayel:
As a vampire, Rafayel's artistic abilities were magnified to extraordinary levels. His senses became heightened, allowing him to perceive the subtlest nuances of color, texture, and lighting. His immortality provides him with endless time to refine his craft, and explore new techniques and styles that pushes the boundaries of traditional painting. His paintings are considered a masterpiece that capture interest of many people all over the world.
You met him at his house studio to investigate a painting. Eventually you're both attacked by a Wanderer in his home and defeat it. In the aftermath, he extends an offer to hire you as his bodyguard, recognizing the value of your talents. You accepted, and as your roles shifted from professional to personal, a deeper connection blossomed between you. It wasn't long before your relationship grew into something more intimate. Eventually he would confess that he was a vampire. At first, his mischievous demeanor made it hard to take his claim seriously.
Rafayel tries so hard to hold himself back whenever he's near you. He would go to any lengths, even staking himself, to ensure he would never cause you harm. He struggles to keep his bloodlust at bay, especially when your scent is so intoxicating. Each time you wear something that exposes your neck, wrists, or ankles, his throat becomes unbearably dry. To mask his struggle, he distracts himself with conversation and avoids eye contact, desperately trying to remain composed. When you're near, he can barely focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to taste your blood, a constant battle between his desires and his determination to keep you safe.
Whenever he shows affection, whether it's a hug or a kiss, he holds you just a bit too tightly, his breath trembling against your neck, making you shiver. Though he's always tender with you, in these moments you can sense the raw edge of his desire, barely contained beneath his gentle exterior. It's a thrilling reminder of the thin line he walks between his love for you and his almost overpowering urge to taste your blood. And at times like this, you truly wonder if your boyfriend was telling you the truth.
However, your skepticism grew when you witnessed his pallor and weakness, the result of without proper nourishment. He explained that blood donors he relied on were bland and left a lingering, unpleasant aftertaste so he had neglected his feeding.
Out of your generosity you would ask him to drink you blood and obviously he'll be shocked and refused. But you know him to well and it takes barely any persuading to let him feed on you.
He prefers to bite your wrist, finding it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process, believing it to be the safest arrangement. This way if he ever loses control or if you start to feel faint or unwell you can easily pull away and protect yourself from any unintended harm. His primary concern is your safety, and he values this precautionary measure to ensure that your well-being is always safeguarded.
He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist. A brief, tingling sting that quickly faded into a soothing warmth. He fed slowly savoring the rich, warm taste, each tip tender and measured. His hold on your wrist would be firm but careful, ensuring that you felt secure and not overwhelmed.
As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs from your skin and gently licked the small punctures, soothing them with a tender touch. He placed soft kisses over the marks.
Even as a vampire, he'll still mess around with you. He occasionally teases you by extending his fangs just enough to graze your skin. He would let his teeth lightly brush against your arm, just enough to startle you without breaking the surface layer. His laughter rings our softly as you squirm or swat at him, your playful annoyance would be evident. He does this with kisses too. Sometimes you'll feel a sharp fang gently biting your tongue and you'll pull away to flick his forehead for being mischievous
Although he can't see himself in the mirror you would always remind him he's always so handsome. You may not be the artist like he is but you'll try to draw him sometimes and even though it might not be perfect or he might make fun of you, he appreciates the gesture.
Sylus:
You first met Sylus when an unknown man fires a bullet at you, but Sylus stops the bullet mid-air and disintegrates the man. Despite your minor injuries, with blood seeping from the wounds, your scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating to him. Sylus had been quietly monitoring you, with Mephisto discreetly shadowing your every move. The raw, alluring aroma of your blood ignited a fierce, almost uncontrollable craving within him. Yet, he fought to maintain his composure, striving to resonate with while concealing the fierce hunger that roared within him. Although not a lot of talking has happened when you passed out.
You woke up to find out you've been staying at his home for three days. He's tried to force you to resonate with him after you woke up only to find out the reason why it didn't work was because you were subconsciously rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. Eventually you agreed to work with him, on the terms of helping you out with your investigation to make you not so disgusted by him.
As you both diligently worked together in the N109 Zone, trust between you gradually deepened. Through countless shared experiences and mutual reliance, you discovered more about each other, and your relationship evolved from professional to deeply personal. Eventually, Sylus reveals to you that he was a vampire. Which was not surprising to you at all. Pale Skin and crimson red eyes? That's def a vampire. The information did not change your relationship but rather you've become more curious.
You found out he usually gets blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on the blood bags as they were too bland and unsatisfying. To compensate, he sometimes indulges in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic the richness he craves. so sometimes he'll drink a lot of red wine as a filler for blood.
Dates with him are also super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He'll gift you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun but he also hates the sun so this was perfect for him.
He also has a ton of secret hideaways in the world. He created many for anytime you both want to travel so these hidden spots offer a blend of comfort and safety for the two of you.
Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood, hoping it might provide a more fulfilling experience. He would be hesitant about it, mainly worried that he might become addicted once he's consumed your blood. But with reassurance and the communication between you two you decided to try it out.
He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on the body, your body relaxed and supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, giving him easy access as he settled between you. He brushed his lips lightly against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and soothing. His breath was warm against your skin as his one of his hands rested gently on your hips, offering reassurance and stability. His other hand would be intertwined with yours.
With a deliberate slowness, he allowed his fangs to emerge, their presence barely noticeable at first. As he leaned in, he places a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The feeling of anticipation and tenderness, would make you tingle with both excitement and nervousness.
When he finally bit down, it was a controlled precision. The initial sting was quick but fleeting, and quickly replaced by a soothing, warm sensation as he began to feed. He couldn't help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to ensure you were secured and cared for. He'll occasionally look up, to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort.
Once he was done feeding, he would lick the wound clean and caress your thigh as he would praise you. "You taste so good for me sweetie." The gesture you have given him has open a new chapter in your complex relationship.
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace scenarios#lads x you#lads x reader
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which dress looks good on me?
synopsis ïčyour husband aventurine helps you pick out dresses ! ( gone wrong ! )
pairingsïčaventurine x f!reader
cwïčnsfw MDNI. unedited. ă established relationship ămirror sex ăsemi-public sex ăreader physically smaller ămild titplay ă squirting ăaventurine referred to as âkakavashaâ once or so ăa bit of choking ănicknames used ( baby, sweetheart, more ! ) ămore tba !
noteïčhi hii ! ! decided to change things up w my formatting . . . since the last one wasnât that good so i hope this new format it looks fine :3 this is a lil short but itâs oki ! ! | reblogs are highly appreciated ! if you want to talk to me, send a rq or thirst . . . feel free to send me an ask ! â millie âĄ
it was another day of spending time with your husband, of course . . . he spoiled you a shit ton today, even though you scolded him not to ! but of course, he wouldnât listen. hmph, typical. you were both in one of the big changing rooms in your favourite place to shop at, examining the dress that hugged your body, the coldness of the room making you shiver. âhmm . . .â you hummed, raising a brow as you took a step closer to the mirror, â . . aven, iâm not sure about this dress.â you murmured, glancing at your beloved husband staring at you in pure awe, ugh . . he was like a puppy. it was cute.
aventurine whistled, his rough fingertips tracing the outline of your ass, smirking when he felt you jump. âi like it, i guess you donât then,â he chuckled with a shrug, taking a step closer. âmaybe try another one on and see how it looks, maybe something a bit looser, if you prefer. but to me, i like this one.â
âbabe, you said that with the five other dresses i tried on earlier.â
â . . . so?â
âsooo which means that . . . you need to be more with me, you canât just say âyes it looks goodâ every single time, yâknow . . . i need your honest opinion.â you spoke, crossing your arms.
âwell, you did look good in all those dresses you tried on earlier, even this one you still look as beautiful as ever.â aventurineâs pretty eyes roamed over your body with admiration. "your body is perfect just the way it is." aventurine reached out, gently cupping one of your round breasts through the thin material of your dress. "and if anything, you're just getting even more beautiful with each passing day." he leaned in close, nuzzling your neck as he whispered into your ear, " . . mm . . but if you want to look extra hot, maybe we should find something that shows off your cute breasts over here. maybe . . one that allows them to spill right outââ
âkakavasha.â
âwhat? i was only telling the truth, sweetheart. canât handle it?â
the dress surely was stunning, accentuating every part of you. but there was something missing . . . like something else needed to be added. hm . . you werenât sure what. could it be the color? maybe it wasnât your color? you just werenât sure. a hand ran through your hair again, slowly trailing down towards the fat of your ass . . . feeling a small yet sharp slap that stung your skin. âyou really canât decide? just get all of them, love. you know i can afford them. unless . . you want me to tell you how i feel about this dress in specific . . both on and off. would that be to your liking?â that smug lilâ smirk on his face . . . you knew exactly what he meant by that. it was risky, but hey . . . you didnât mind that. you nodded, raising a brow with a smile.
aventurineâs eyes darted over your figure, lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the dress you wore, he could feel his cock stirring in his pants, straining against the fabric of his boxers. aventurine silently cursed his weakness, his thoughts betraying him at the most inopportune time. âmmh . . . letâs start here.â your husbandâs fingers tickled your chin, facing you to the mirror infront of you, as if he wanted you to watch every single thing he does. gripping your hips, he pressed your body firmly against the cold mirror . . his fingers moved deftly, reaching down to flip your dress upwards, sliding his eager digits within your heat . . stroking your wet slit.
âaven . . .â a breathy whimper slipped between your lips as aventurine pressed his thumb against your clit, his other fingers dipping into your folds. He could feel her body respond to his touch, your hips bucking slightly as you tried stifling moans.
âmm . . this dress presents you so well, angel. i like the fabric used . . i also like how these present these tits of yours. âs fucking pretty. you canât expect me to not look at them, can you, baby?â he teased, his fingers brushing over your nipples gently. âif you ever wore this at an important gathering . . fuck. iâd get hard so quick,â his voice . . . goodness his voice. he was so close to you, his body pressed firmly against yours, rubbing his cock against your backside. âspeaking of that . . look how hard you made me, baby. just âcuz i saw you in this pretty dress.â
the gambler trapped you close against the mirror, cock twitching at the sight of your breasts pressing against the cold surface. his eyes darkened, desire burning in his depths as he looked at the reflection of his wife. your breathing hitched, eyes half-closed, and lips parted in need. "fuck, baby . . . you're driving me insane," aventurine growled, his voice desperate and thick with lust. he adjusted the dress, pulling it down just enough to reveal more of your breasts . . . mouth watering at the sight, his cock throbbing painfully in response. âiâm gonna fuck this pretty pussy . . kay? iâm gonna fuck this pretty pussy.â aventurineâs skilled hands wrapped themselves around your throat, applying pressure with a squeeze. â. . . âgonna fuck you hard against this mirror until we get kicked out, kay?â
â . . okay . . â
âgood girl.â his hand squeezed around your neck once more as his cock slid smoothly into your wet heat. his breath hitched as he felt your warmth enveloping him, your wet heat surrounding his dick. your moans and his groans bounced off the walls of the fitting room, not caring if anyone was waiting outside to try on their own clothes . . thatâs their problem! âoh baby . . . i will never stop fucking this cunt of yours.â aventurine groaned deeply, losing all control within his nerves as they were all conveyed by pure lust for you. the sounds of the mall faded away, replaced by the slap of your bodies connecting, the soft gasps and whimpers escaping both of you and him.
"this fuckinâ dress . . . fuck iâm gonna ruin it. ruin you, baby.â the gambler breathed raggedly, rough hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounded into you with no avail or intention of stopping, his eyes locked on the reflection, watching himself taking his pretty wife in the sexiest dress heâd ever seen. âwatch me while i fuck you, my little wife. do you see my cock sliding in and out of you? âs good . . isnât it?â
"god, yes!" you cried out, clenching your fists against the mirror, your husbandâs eyes locked on the image of your plump tits bouncing with each thrust with your face flushed with passion. âmore, aven . . more more more !â goodness . . . you were almost certain that people from the outside heard you both fuckinâ and getting it down in there. in full honesty . . . aventurine didn't care who heard, he didn't care about the consequences. all he cared about was satisfying his desperate hunger for you, feeling your body clench around him. oh . . the way your heat enveloped his member like a blanket drove him crazy. it took every ounce of control left in his body to not cum instantly . . wanting to savour the moment more.
âaâaven iâm gonna cum . . .â
âyeah? cum, angel. cum on my cock . . maybe cum on the mirror too . . give the workers a hard time cleaning our intimacy.â he chuckled, landing a swift smack to your ass. fuck, the sensation was too much for you. your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely. with a gasp, you squirted all over the mirror, milking your husbands cock as you did so . . . your vision swam with pleasure, mind hazy with orgasmic bliss. âwell then . .â aventurine spoke again, grunting when he emptied himself into you. âdid that prove anything? prove how much i liked this dress . . ?â
âshâshit . . mm . . yes, yes it did . .â
âgood. then letâs get this one then, baby. canât wait to completely ruin you again in this dress when we get home.â
© 6GUMI. please do not modify ătranslate ăshare my works on other platforms ăor consider them as yours.
#millieâs writings âïž#aventurine . . i luv him <3#he is so dangerous . . . :3#honkai star rail#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#hsr#aventurine smut#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#hsr x reader#hsr x you
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all yours (part ii)
© @usermonsters nicholas alexander chavez & cooper koch x reader (anyone can read!)
part i | part iii premise Three friendsâNicholas, Cooper, and the Y/Nâfind their casual friendship evolving into something deeper as playful competition for attention gives way to mutual attraction. (prequel)
cw no warnings. fluff, fluff and fluff. wc 3.7k a/n part 2 request from @urdreamgirl12! i'm very tempted to write some filthy smut for part iii. ugh, i love these two men sm.
Reblogs are highly appreciated.
PART II
You met Cooper during your second semester, in a philosophy class that felt endless with heavy readings and dense discussions. He sat a couple of seats away from you, friendly but reserved, always polite with a small nod when you arrived. He wasnât the type to dominate conversations or draw attention to himself, but he was approachable, and something about his calm presence made you want to know him better.
One morning after class, you both ended up walking in the same direction, and thatâs when it started. âIs it just me, or does Plato make everything sound five times more complicated than it needs to be?â you joked, glancing over at him.
Cooper smiled, a quiet laugh escaping him. âNo, itâs not just you. Sometimes I feel like I understand less the more I read.â
That was it â the first real conversation, but it flowed so naturally that by the time you reached the cafĂ©, you had fallen into an easy rhythm. You grabbed coffee together, and for the first time, you got to see more of him. He had this dry humor that came out when you least expected it, paired with a thoughtful way of speaking that made you want to listen.
As the weeks went on, meeting after class became a routine. Youâd walk together, sometimes study or grab coffee. He wasnât shy but more of an observer, preferring to listen before diving into a conversation. Cooper had a quiet confidence about him, and his steady presence quickly became something you looked forward to. He didnât push, didnât fill the silence unnecessarily, but when he spoke, it was always with intention.
Over time, though, you started noticing something more. The way his hand brushed against yours when you walked, the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than usual. It wasnât loud or obvious, but the tension was there, simmering quietly between you. Neither of you said anything about it, but it hung in the air during your coffee breaks and quiet study sessions, growing slowly, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.
You met Nicholas at a party, one of those loud, crowded events where you felt out of place. You were standing by the drinks table, considering an early exit, when he appeared next to you with a grin that immediately caught your attention.
âYou look like youâre planning your escape,â he said, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes bright with amusement.
You smirked, surprised by how easily he picked up on your mood. âMaybe I am.â
Nicholas chuckled, pouring himself a drink. âTell you what, stay a little longer. Iâll make sure itâs worth it.â
From that moment, the night changed. Nicholas was magnetic, the kind of guy who drew everyone in with his confidence and energy. He kept you laughing, making the party feel less overwhelming and more fun, but it wasnât just his charm that grabbed you. There was something more, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. The way he stood close to you, his arm brushing against yours as he talked, the way his gaze would linger on your lips for a fraction too long.
At one point, he leaned in. âStill thinking about leaving?â he teases.
You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His proximity made it hard to think straight, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him.
âNot anymore,â you replied softly, and Nicholasâ grin widened, satisfied.
As the night wore on, that tension only grew. Nicholas would find reasons to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or a brush of his fingers against your arm, each time lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. He wasnât subtle about his interest, and by the time you left the party, you couldnât stop thinking about the way he made you feel, that electric pull between you, always on the verge of something more.
After that night, Nicholas started popping up in your life more often. Heâd text you out of the blue, always with that same playful, flirty energy, and every time you hung out, the tension was there, hanging between you, building with every lingering touch and every teasing remark. It was undeniable, and you both knew it was only a matter of time before one of you acted on it.
The first time Nicholas and Cooper met wasnât exactly planned. You were in the middle of one of your usual study sessions with Cooper at the campus library. It was the kind of comfortable, quiet work youâd come to expect with him, both of you buried in your notes, exchanging a few words now and then.
Then you received a text from Nicholas. Outside. Coming in.
Before you could even respond, Nicholas appeared, striding through the library. He caught your eye and grinned, waving. âHey! Thought Iâd find you here.â
You smiled, a little surprised, and glanced at Cooper, who looked up from his book, brow furrowing slightly as Nicholas dropped into the chair across from you. âHowâs the study session going?â
âItâs going well,â you replied, a little unsure. âWeâve still got a lot to cover.â
Nicholas raised an eyebrow at the stack of books, his face scrunching in mock horror. âPhilosophy, huh? You guys need a break. How about I grab us some food? I saw a food truck outside.â
Cooper glanced up from his notes, his response calm but firm. âWeâre kind of in the middle of things. Maybe later.â
There was a brief silence. Nicholas, not one to be brushed off easily, looked between you and Cooper, clearly not used to being put on hold. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk on his face, but you could sense something else behind it. âAh, I see. Important stuff.â
Cooper didnât rise to the bait, simply nodding and returning to his notes. But the tension wasnât lost on you. Nicholas wasnât used to being sidelined, and Cooper had this quiet confidence that made it clear he wasnât going to be swayed by Nicholasâ usual charm.
But Nicholas, in his typical style, didnât let it go. âTell you what,â he said, standing up, âIâll grab the food and bring it back. No distractions, I promise. Just sustenance. You keep doing your thing.â
You opened your mouth to respond, but Nicholas flashed a wink and walked off, leaving you and Cooper in a moment of quiet. You looked over at Cooper, a little apologetic. âI didnât think he was coming.â
Cooper smiled, a hint of amusement softening his features. âItâs fine. He seems... alright.â
When Nicholas came back, he laid out the food with a grin, true to his word about keeping things low-key. âAlright, foodâs here. No distractions,â he said, though his tone carried the usual playful edge.
Cooper gave him a polite nod, accepting the food, though you noticed the dynamic was a bit different now. Nicholas didnât press as hard this time. He didnât dominate the conversation like he usually did. Instead, he leaned back, eating his food quietly, stealing occasional glances at Cooper, who seemed focused on his work but not entirely indifferent to Nicholasâ presence.
There was a shift, small but there. Nicholas vseemed to be sizing Cooper up but not in a competitive way anymore. More like he was curious. He was beginning to see that Cooper wasnât just some guy who kept to himself. He was steady, thoughtful, and sure of himself in a way that Nicholas wasnât used to. It seemed like Nicholas was⊠warming up to him.
As the three of you sat there, the tension seemed to ease. Nicholas leaned forward, making a casual comment about the food, and for the first time, Cooper cracked a small smile in response. It wasnât much, but it was enough for Nicholas to lean back, satisfied, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes.
And for the first time, you thought maybe Cooper was starting to grow on him.
It started innocently enough. You, Nicholas, and Cooper would occasionally run into each other between classes or grab coffee after a long day. At first, it was casual â just friends with overlapping schedules and shared interests. But somewhere along the way, the three of you fell into an unspoken rhythm, a routine that pulled you together more frequently, more naturally. What began as study sessions and movie nights turned into something else, though none of you would admit it just yet.
At first, it was Nicholas who was most obvious about vying for your attention. Heâd flash that easy grin, leaning in just a little too close whenever he talked, as though he couldnât resist testing the boundaries between friendship and something more. He was the type to drape his arm casually over your shoulders, always finding some excuse to be close, his presence hard to ignore.
"Donât look so serious," heâd tease whenever he caught you focusing too hard during study sessions. "Youâre gonna scare off all your brain cells."
Youâd roll your eyes, but the warmth of his teasing made you smile every time. And you werenât the only one who noticed. Cooper, who was more laid-back and less showy, started to subtly mirror Nicholasâ actions, not as overtly, but in his own way. Heâd lean forward during conversations, his gaze lingering on you, his voice soft and steady when he spoke. His touches were fewer, but each one was deliberate. If Nicholas was the one to throw playful jabs, Cooper was the one whose quiet support always felt reassuring.
You started to notice it more during your meet-ups: the way they seemed to compete for your attention. Nicholas was always quick to crack a joke, to make you laugh, while Cooper played the calm counterbalance, offering a deeper, more thoughtful presence. If Nicholas made a playful comment, Cooper would find a way to steer the conversation back to something meaningful, as if they were both trying to prove who could hold your interest more.
At first, it felt like a game, like they were challenging each other for who could make you smile, who could capture your focus. There were subtle moments when Nicholas would lean in closer, resting his hand on your knee while Cooperâs eyes followed the movement, his jaw tightening slightly before heâd distract you with a clever remark. If you were caught between them, they seemed equally caught in the tug-of-war over who could win your attention first.
But then, something shifted.
It happened slowly, almost without you noticing. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but there were moments when their competitiveness gave way to something more playful between them. Youâd catch them exchanging glances when they thought you werenât looking, a shared look of amusement when one of them made you laugh.
One evening, the three of you were sitting at the campus café after a long day of classes. Nicholas had shown up as usual, sliding into the booth next to you and draping his arm casually over the back of your seat. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered something teasing about the way you held your coffee.
"Youâre gripping that cup like itâs about to run away," he murmured, smirking. "Relax a little."
Before you could respond, Cooper arrived, sliding into the seat across from you. He raised an eyebrow at Nicholasâ proximity, but instead of making a comment to you, he glanced at Nicholas. "You know, if you leaned in any closer, people might think you two are dating.â
Nicholas didnât miss a beat. He leaned back slightly, shooting Cooper a playful look. "What, jealous?"
Cooper smirked, his eyes meeting Nicholasâ in a way that felt different from their usual banter. "Maybe."
It was subtle, the way the tension between them shifted in that moment. What used to feel like a competition for your attention started to feel like they were both enjoying the game, not just with you, but with each other.
Later, back at Nicholasâ apartment for one of your usual movie nights, the energy felt different. You were sandwiched between them on the couch, Nicholas on one side, his arm draped over your shoulders as usual, and Cooper on the other, his knee pressing lightly against yours. The playful banter between them continued, but now, there were small moments where theyâd brush against each other, not entirely by accident.
Nicholas would reach over you to grab a drink from the coffee table, letting his arm graze Cooperâs shoulder in the process. Cooper, instead of pulling away, would give Nicholas a slight nudge back, the touch lingering for just a moment before he returned his focus to you. It was subtle, but the shift in their dynamic was unmistakable â they were no longer just competing for your attention. They were starting to acknowledge each other, too.
"You two always this competitive?" you asked, half-joking but genuinely curious as their banter intensified. It was hard to miss the way Nicholas had leaned closer to Cooper over the course of the night, his usual teasing now directed toward both of you.
Nicholas grinned. "Who says weâre competing?"
Cooper chuckled, his gaze flicking to Nicholas briefly before settling back on you. "Yeah, I think weâre just⊠focused."
You smirked, feeling the tension between them and the way it pulled you right into the center. "Focused on what, exactly?"
Nicholasâ hand brushed lightly against your arm, but then, just as quickly, it slid down, his fingers brushing against Cooperâs shoulder before pulling away. The touch was light, playful, but enough to send a charge through the air. "On making sure you donât get bored, obviously."
Cooperâs knee nudged yours under the blanket. "We wouldnât want that."
You could feel the heat rising between the three of you, the subtle flirting no longer so subtle. Their casual touches now lingered longer, their glances shared not just with you, but with each other. Nicholas would throw a teasing comment your way, but his eyes would flick to Cooper afterward, almost daring him to respond. And Cooper, no longer holding back, would meet Nicholasâ gaze head-on, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
As the night went on, the dynamics between the three of you shifted even further. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but now, there was a clear acknowledgment of the tension between them as well. The casual touches between them grew more frequent, their shared looks more deliberate. It was no longer just a competition for you â it was a slow, teasing flirtation between them, too.
You were still caught in the middle, but now it felt like you werenât the only one they were trying to win over. They had started to notice each other, and with every touch, every lingering glance, it became clearer: the three of you were connected in a way none of you had fully realized before.
It was bound to come to a head eventually. You, Nicholas, and Cooper had been dancing around each other for weeks, the tension between the three of you growing more obvious with every lingering glance, every touch that stayed just a little too long. But no one had said anything. It was as if you were all waiting for the right moment â or maybe for someone else to break the silence first.
That moment came at a house party, one of those weekend gatherings where the music was too loud, and the rooms were crowded with people looking for an excuse to let loose. You had arrived together, as usual, slipping into the familiar pattern of moving through the party as a trio, but tonight was different. There was a lightness in the air, a sense of release that came with letting go after a long week. People were packed into every area of the house, the thump of music vibrating through the floor, the smell of beer and laughter filling the space.
You started the night casually enough, playing beer pong with a few others in the kitchen. where the competition quickly ramped up. Nicholas, predictably, was cocky as ever, making a show of his "perfect aim."
"Watch this," he said with a wink, aiming the ping-pong ball at the last cup. He missed completely, and the ball bounced off the counter, rolling under the table.
You burst out laughing, your head swimming with the alcohol and the absurdity of the night. "Perfect aim, huh?"
Nicholas shrugged, unbothered. "Itâs all part of the strategy. Keep the competition guessing."
Cooper chuckled, shaking his head. "If thatâs your strategy, itâs a terrible one."
The banter flowed easily between the three of you, as it always did, but tonight there was an extra layer of warmth, the kind that came from the alcohol already making its way into your system. Your head felt a little lighter, your movements a little slower, as the drinks started to settle in. Nicholas had been handing you drinks all night, always making sure your cup was full, and Cooper had been quietly keeping pace, his eyes flicking between you and Nicholas.
After a few rounds of beer games, you were feeling the full effects of the drinks. Your body was warm, your cheeks flushed, and everything seemed funnier, lighter. The three of you were leaning against each other, laughing at nothing in particular, your head resting against Nicholasâ shoulder as Cooper stood close by, his arm brushing against yours every so often.
It wasnât long before you needed a break from the noise, the heat of the house starting to feel overwhelming. You slipped away from the crowd, wandering through the hallway until you found a quiet, secluded corner near the back of the house. The music was still loud, but it was muffled here, the chaos of the party fading into the background as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.
You hadnât been there long when you felt someone approaching. You opened your eyes to see Nicholas standing in front of you, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned one hand against the wall next to you. "Escaping already?"
Before you could answer, Cooper appeared on your other side, his presence quieter but just as steady. His gaze was soft, but there was a heat behind his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "You didnât think weâd let you disappear on us, did you?"
You smiled, feeling a sudden rush of warmth at the sight of both of them, standing so close, their attention entirely focused on you. "Just needed a breather."
Nicholas chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned in closer, his voice low. "You sure you werenât trying to ditch us?"
The way his breath tickled your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldnât help but glance at Cooper, who was watching you closely. His hand found your waist, his touch gentle but deliberate, "Weâve been following you all night, you know."
Your heart thudded in your chest, the alcohol blurring the lines of everything but the tension that crackled between the three of you. It felt like the air had shifted, like this small corner of the house had become its own world â one where the only thing that mattered was what happened next.
Nicholasâ fingers slid up your arm, his touch light and teasing as he leaned in even closer. "So⊠what now?"
Cooperâs hand tightened slightly on your waist, his body heat pressing against you from the other side as he waited for your answer. The room felt like it was spinning, not from the alcohol, but from the way their presence wrapped around you, pulling you into a moment you knew had been building for weeks.
"I think⊠I think we need to talk about this. About us."
Nicholasâ eyes gleamed with a mixture of playfulness and something deeper. His hand lingered on your arm as he glanced over at Cooper. "Yeah, I think itâs about time we do."
Cooperâs fingers brushed softly against your side, his gaze steady but serious. "Weâve been dancing around this for a while, havenât we?"
You nodded, feeling both of their attention on you, making your pulse race. "It feels like⊠more than just friendship. With both of you. And I know youâve felt it too."
Nicholas chuckled softly, his hand slipping to the small of your back as he pulled you just a little closer. "Oh, weâve felt it. Weâve definitely felt it."
Cooperâs hand tightened on your waist, his tone calm but clear. "But we need to be sure. We need to be on the same page."
You exhaled a shaky breath, glancing between them. "I donât know exactly what this is yet, but⊠I want to figure it out. With both of you."
Nicholasâ grin softened, his thumb brushing against the small of your back. "Good. Because Iâm all in."
Cooperâs hand slid from your waist to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours. "Me too," he said quietly, his eyes locking with yours, then flicking to Nicholas. "Weâre in this together."
Nicholasâ hand slipped up to your jaw, gently turning your face toward his. The grin that was usually playful now softened, his eyes intense as they searched yours. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with everything that had gone unsaid between the three of you.
The kiss sent a wave of heat through your body, and for a moment, it was just you and Nicholas, the weight of his hand on your back, the warmth of his lips pulling you deeper into the moment.
When he pulled away, your breath caught, and before you could process the rush of emotions, you felt Cooperâs hand gently guiding your face toward him. His kiss was different â softer, more tentative, but no less charged. His lips moved against yours with a quiet intensity, as if he had been holding back for too long and now couldnât stop himself.
The contrast between them was intoxicating, Nicholasâ fiery energy and Cooperâs gentle steadiness blending together, both of them focused entirely on you. When Cooper pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
"So," Nicholas murmured, his voice low and teasing, "are we done pretending now?"
You smiled, breathless and caught between them, feeling like the missing pieces had finally clicked into place. "Yeah," you whispered, your heart pounding. "No more pretending."
#cooper koch#nicholas alexander chavez#cooper koch fanfic#nicholas alexander chavez imagine#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#cooper koch x reader#cooper koch imagine#nicholas chavez#writing
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the cutest pair
synopsis: how kinich shows his affection! aren't you the cutest pair?
genre: fluff
characters: kinich x gn! reader
warnings: established r/s, kinich might be a little ooc
a/n: mama you don't understand i'm in love with a boyđ„č likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!
©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
masterlist
kinich, in all honesty, was horrible at showing emotions. heâs reserved, introverted, and sometimes came off a little colder than he intended to be â an unfortunate result of his childhood. how he ever got together with you despite his cold front was probably one of the great mysteries of teyvat. even as a lover, he still tended to be silent to some extent, preferring to let you do most of the talking while he stayed behind. sometimes you wondered if you scored a partner or a sentient shadow, with the way he normally observed conversations with your friends instead of joining in. what you failed to notice, however, was the way his eyes would only be trained on you as you laughed and chatted, the faintest smile on his lips at the sight of you having fun.
kinich would never be described to be âeloquentâ by most. pragmatic, direct, and efficient, the side of him everyone knew was one that was curt and cold. but those he was close to knew better. so it didnât matter that he was less talkative, because he would always make up for it with his acts of service. action always speaks louder than words, right? it was always the little things, like making sure you walked on the side furthest from the edge of the clifftops, always staying one step in front of you in case the saurians you wanted to feed decided that you were better off as enemies.Â
kinich may not look it to many, but heâs observant. individuals have approached you countless times before, accusing kinich of being too aloof and uncaring for even his own partner, but you knew better. just like the time you woke up with an inexplicable feeling of melancholy, and he left your house only to return in 20 minutes with your favourite food in hand. how did he know what it was? well, he said, i heard you mention it to mualani last time she visited, so i wrote it down in my notebook. believe it or not, heâd completely filled up at least 5 notebooks since the day you met, fully detailed with things youâd mentioned in passing, and observations of your behaviour. heâd never show them to you, though if you asked cutely, maybe heâd relent and allow a tiny peek.
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#astronetwrk#nereids' realm#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kinich x reader#genshin impact fluff#kinich fluff#àŒthe vesselâs voyages#scrolls of yoreâïžá°
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đđźđ«đ§đđąđ«đ [đ]
pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 3.6k
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, cursing, mentions of abuse/alcoholism, character death and graphic descriptions of death, mentions of vomit
summary.
in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.
author's note. this one is... a lot. take heed of the warnings/let me know if there's something i forgot to tag! i might've missed some errors because it's late so i will fix in the morning, otherwise please enjoy! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!
âą đ©đ«đđŻđąđšđźđŹ | đŠđđŹđđđ«đ„đąđŹđ | đ§đđ±đ âŁ
đđąđđđđĄđ đąđĄ đđĄđ đđđ§đ§đđĄđ đđą
When the meadows grow full and lush, Kinich awaits your reappearance.
The winter had been longâwith his crops iced over, heâd had to rely on hunting to survive. His motherâs absence had taken a heavy toll on his family (though he uses the word loosely), and his father somehow finds more time to drink his life away. Now the sole homemaker, Kinich finds himself as his fatherâs newfound punching bag as well.
He discovers that he has a talent for patching wounds and bruises.
Some days, the man awakens in the dead of night, freshly soberâKinich can hear him crying his motherâs name in the dark. He doesnât know whether to take that as regret, or simply loneliness.
They donât talk. They never really did, but the silence grows quickly, curling and weaving and winding like vines through the house, until Kinich can feel it wrapping his throat shut. Days and weeks go by without him talking to anyone at all.
Still, he moves on.
The ice finally melts, and he welcomes the sight of animals returning from hibernation, despite how they nip at his garden. New life sprouts from the ground, and itâs only a matter of time before you appear in the forest again as well.
This time, youâre touting a burlap bag of Quenepa Berries, and you offer him one as he approaches.
âTheyâre sweeter at this time of year,â you comment, before popping one of the fruits into your mouth. He accepts and does the sameâthis batch is fattened and sweet, he thinks as the juice dribbles down his chin. You must have an eye for a good harvest.
âYou came back,â is all he replies, as a greeting.
An incredulous expression crosses your face, almost judgmentalâyou hold the bag of berries away from him as teasing punishment. âYou thought I wouldnât?â
He reaches over you, quick as a fox, catching one of the fruits in his fingers.Â
âDonât know.â
Thereâs no way to tell you about his motherâs disappearance, at least not one that heâs confident about. After all, he feels thereâs no logic in informing you anywayâthereâs no solution that you could potentially offer, and itâs not as though it affects you. But itâs the thought of that, and the lasting image of her footsteps, that had instilled this fear within him.
The fear that you would never return.
But youâre here, he soothes himself, another berry in your outstretched palm. He takes it, just as your voice rings out again.
âSo, do your parents not like girls?â
The skin of the fruit catches in his throat at your question, and he lets out a series of wet coughsâyou pat his back, eyes wide with concern. It takes a few moments for him to return to his senses.
âWhat are you talking about?â he splutters, uncharacteristically flustered.
You donât seem to notice, too absorbed in picking through your bagâyou prefer the lightest blue berries, the ones that are still slightly unripe. Perhaps you enjoy the tartness they offer.
âI donât know,â you reply. âIt just seems like you donât want your parents to see me.â
And thereâs no easy way to explain his situation, so he doesnât. Instead, he hums, watching the birds soar by overhead. His heart vaguely tugs with jealousy at the sight of them.
âItâs not that. My parents justâŠdonât like people hanging around our house. Thatâs why we moved out of the village.â
Not a total lie, he reasonsâthe financial issues were the root cause, but his father had also grown tired of neighbors attempting to intervene in his parentsâ endless disputes. It had given him hope, for a time, that someone might be able to remedy the situation.Â
But that hope was quickly snuffed out.
âMakes sense,â you say, tracing shapes in the dirt with your foot. You draw a heart, a smiley face, and then something that looks like a defective Yumkasaurus. âYour dad is the mean one, right?â
Youâre still not quite educated on social faux-pas at your age, and Kinich almost chokes again.
âWhat?â
Something rustles in the bushes nearbyâan animal scared away by the sudden loudness of his voice.
âHe always used to yell at me when Iâd come around to leave you things,â you explain, overwhelmingly casual. âSmelled like that stuff that us kids arenât allowed to go near in the market.â
Kinich vaguely remembers hearing his parents argue about something like that, but all the fighting tends to blur together after a time. Heâs not sure how to reply to that, or what you might think if he did.
So he doesnât.
He asks you about your winter instead, a topic change that you welcome eagerly. You tell him about the village, the white-topped roofs and the way the Yumkasauri would redden and sneeze, whelps hiding in their motherâs wings. You tell him about how you tried ice skating on the frozen river, recounting how many times you fell flat on your face. The thought makes him smile faintly.
Heâs almost surprised by how enthusiastic you are about itâyouâd told him before about your parentsâ death in the cold season. He wonders how you seem to move past it all.
You turn your attention back to him, curious. âWhat about you? What happened during your winter?â
Thereâs a lot he could say, but none of it feels right, every word sticking to his tongue, stubborn.Â
âThe winter felt really long,â he finally says, mostly to himself, chewing thoughtfully.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. âIt did. But itâs not so bad, I think.â
He hums. âReally?â
You shrug. âSpring always comes again anyway.â
/
On Kinichâs seventh birthday, you knock at his door in the evening.
The November air is crisp, but not yet chilling. After all, the nation of Pyro tends to run warm until the very depths of winter. Itâs for that reason that the fireplace still lies darkened and empty, and that the kitchen window is still open a crack.
The sound shocks him at firstâitâs been a long time since anyone has visited at all, so much so that the dull thump is unfamiliar. Wilder animals tend to come out when the sun sets, so he tries to finish up his farming and hunting beforehandâat this time, heâs usually preparing some sort of meal for the next day.
He glances at the source of the noise, then at his father, slumped over the kitchen table, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. The man will likely be asleep until the early morning anyway.
So Kinich pads to the door, pulling it open just a crack, and itâs your eye that peers back at him, curious.
Another inch, and then the rest of you is revealed to himâyouâre holding a neatly wrapped box in your hands, an innocent smile spread across your lips.
His first words come out in a hiss.
âWhat are you doing here?â
He thinks heâs been quite clear about your need to return to the village by this time, for many reasons. Itâs growing dark, a time where animals and humans alike grow more dangerous, and his father tends to be home. The man has a talent of putting Kinich in the worst moods, and heâd rather not spread that to you.
âItâs your birthday,â you greet, as an explanation, shrugging like itâs all so obvious. Kinich tilts his head.
âSo?â
âSo, weâre celebrating! I spent the whole day baking this cake with Chief Waynaâs help.â
Kinich steps outside, quietly letting the door shut behind him. The sunset sky is burning away at this time, pinks and reds fading into black and blue. The stars will be out soon.Â
âItâs nighttime,â he says, crossing his arms.
You nod vigorously, undeterred. âYup! All so you can see the candles better. It looks so much cooler when itâs dark.â
Itâs a ridiculous statement to someone like him, and Kinich is once again reminded how different the two of you are. His sense of logic doesnât seem to align with your enduring enthusiasm. Still, he likes the fire that you have about you, and has no interest in snuffing it out, so he merely sighs and leads you away from the front door.
Once youâre a bit away, the house still in view, he looks to you again.
âSo, what is it about candles?â
Without a reply, you turn away from him, fiddling with various thingsâhe hears a match being lit, sees the faint light reflect from behind youâand then youâre facing him again, proudly holding out the cake.
Thereâs seven brightly colored candles sticking out from the top. The candlelight illuminates your face with a soft glow, a cheeky smile spreading across your lips.
âIt looks good, right?â
Kinich peers down at the treatâit does look good, with the expensive kind of frosting that he used to look at longingly in the market. He hasnât had something this sweet, this luxurious, in a long time, or maybe ever. When he glances back up, youâre staring up at him expectantlyâhe shrinks back from the pressure.
âWhat is it?â he asks, feeling self-conscious. You point to the candles.
âYou have to blow it out.â
Vaguely, he thinks back on when he used to live in the village. Heâs seen people hold birthday parties before (though he canât say heâd ever been invited), but heâs not sure heâs heard of this tradition. Birthday celebrations werenât something his family could ever afford anyway, or maybe they just didnât care to.
Kinich realizes he doesnât even know when his parentsâ birthdays are.
But youâre still watching him, so he pushes that thought aside. Instead, he leans over and gently blows out the candles in three small puffs of breath.
âItâs fun, isnât it?â You cheer, tilting the cake toward him. âI hope you made a wish!â
Youâd forgotten to mention that before he blew out the candles, he thinks to himself, but heâs in no position to argue with your good will anyway. So he nods, silently making a wish after the fact.
âAlright, the best part is eating it,â you whisper conspiratorially, like youâre sharing a life-shattering secret. âAnd Elder Leik says itâs bad to have sugar before bed, but I think itâs okay just this onceââ
âKinich!â
That voiceâ
His heart freezes in his chest. Your face morphs in confusion, and then heâs grasping at your arm and yanking, hiding you behind himâyouâre not much smaller than him, though, so itâs a futile effort. At the force, the cake slips out of your grip, smashing uselessly into the grass.
Kinich has half a mind to apologize, but he canâtâinstead, he holds you tighter.
âKinich?â A hoarse voice echoes in the dark. âWhere the hell are you?âÂ
âIâm here. I was just taking a walk,â he replies. His voice shakes at the edges of each syllableâhe hopes his father doesnât notice.Â
Something crunches in the distance; itâs the sound of grass underfoot. His father is coming this way, Kinich realizes in a panic. He glances back to your fearful eyes, clutching at the back of his thin t-shirt, and his chest burns with the desire to protect.
Itâs too dim to see the man until heâs a few feet in front of youâheâs dressed in a tattered shirt and loose pants, feet dragging through the grass. His eyes narrow when he gets close enough, brows knitting together.
His gaze zeroes in on you, venomous. âItâs you again.â
The collar of Kinichâs shirt grows taut against his throat as you pull against him, afraid. He squeezes at your arm once, a comfort.
âYou damn orphans, got nothing better to do? Just fucking around on my property, I should throw you off this goddamn cliff! Not like you got anyone to miss you.â
Kinich grits his teeth. âLeave her alone.â
His father laughs, a grating sound like nails on a chalkboard, then belches. The smell of cheap alcohol filters through the air, even from a distance.
âGo do something useful then. Too many useless people in this world, ha! Just like your damn mother.â
The mention makes the blood ice over in Kinichâs veins, a sharp frost crawling up his spine. Your grip loosens just a hair, likely in confusion, but the detail barely reaches his mind.
âYou know where she is?â
The image of his motherâs footsteps in the newly fallen snow had never left his mindâhe sees it in his nightmares, trapped and crawling in an endless frozen landscape, alone. He thinks of her when he farms, when he weaves, when heâs forced to eat another Grainfruit.
He thinks of her always, maybe, in the back of his mind.
And his father does too, maybe, based on the way his whole body seems to tighten with anger at the question. He doesnât reply, at least not verbally.
You watch, horrified. Even as his fatherâs eyes glow with rage, even as he drunkenly hobbles toward you both, hands outstretched.
(Kinich blankly notes that they form the shape of his own neck.)
The man isnât too coordinated, especially with the alcohol coursing through his veinsâhe stumbles a few times on the way, the grass seeming to curl around his ankles, slowing him down. Perhaps itâs the landâs way of protecting him, Kinich thinks.Â
He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him. âCome on!â
Kinich runs, wind whipping at his face, the way he always does when his father gets this way. He takes you through the backyard, toward the forest, where his father might lose sight of you both and give up the chase. He knows the paths there and knows them wellâthe shadows of the trees will protect you both.
But the man is picking up speed behind you, roaring about what heâll do once he catches you.
âKinich,â you wheeze. Youâd already been semi-exhausted by your trek here, and certainly not expecting a sprint like this.
âI know,â he pants back. âJust a little more.â
Youâre trying your hardest, he knows.
But heâs faster than you, and you stumble, lagging behind.
âKinich!â
His father lunges, fingers barely grasping at the leg of your pants. A shriek erupts from your throat as you tumble to the ground in a twisted pile, and Kinich cries out with you, just as the cliff seems to rumble beneath his feet.Â
It happens in slow motion.Â
Kinichâs father meets his sonâs gaze, enraged, then afraid. Terrified, just as he feels his legs dangle over the edge of the cliff, just as the weight of your smaller body pushes his torso over. Shocked, just as the rest of you starts to come down with him.Â
Your screams echo off the darkened mountain.Â
Kinich weighs his optionsâit doesnât take longâand then leaps forward. His chest smacks painfully into the dirt, but he manages to grab your wrist just as you slip down the cliff.
âKinich!âÂ
His father is screaming his name, and so are you, pleading, begging for his help. And youâre still in his grasp, but youâre slipping, and his father is reaching for him, and if he could just grab him with his other hand, he could maybe pull you both up, butâ
Kinichâs gaze meets your tear-filled eyes.
So he grits his teeth, clawing at the dirt, and with his other hand, he grabsâ
You.
He doesnât have time to catch his fatherâs expressionâhe doesnât think heâd want to see it anywayâbefore heâs hauling you up, yanking you into his arms until youâre both collapsing into the grass. The crown of your skull clashes with his chin harshly.
His father is still bellowing curses, not that you seem to hear it over the sound of your screams and cries. But Kinich hears it, somehow, floating above the chaos and agony in your voice.
âItâs your fucking fault! This is all your fault!â
His eyes flutter shut as the voice fades away, and then grows silent.
Itâs too quiet.
Even the crickets seem to censor themselves, hiding from the entire ordeal. Kinich releases his hold on you, rolling onto his stomach, then onto his knees. The grass seems to waver under his stare, rippling and oscillating until it feels like the entire world is quivering beneath him.
He barely registers that youâre struggling to pull yourself upright behind him.
You turn away from Kinichâs hunched form to vomit in the grass, overwhelmed by it all. A corpse lies at the foot of the cliff now, one that couldâve just as easily been you. One that might have actually been your fault. The thought makes you vomit again.Â
After a few more dry heaves, Kinichâs hand rubs at your back, the other gently easing your hair away from your mouth. You look over your shoulder at him, eyes filled with tears and nose dripping with snot.Â
âKinich,â you sob, trying to catch your breath. âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry. I was too slow, and heâhe fell. I didnât mean it. Iâm so sorry. I know he wasnâtâI donâtâbut that was yourâyour fatherââ
He takes you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at himâreally look at him. His expression seems the same as always, but you know the difference. You note the quivering at the edge of his lips, the light sheen at the corners of his eyes. It disappears as quickly as you notice it, flattening under a disposition of stone.
âI weighed the value between you,â he says, gaze meeting your glassy stare. Your heart flutters. âAnd I chose you.â
And for a bit, you pretend that you canât hear the thick lump in his throat, or the way his nose scrunches to keep the tears from slipping. Instead, you take his hand, struggling to your feet.
Kinich gives you a once-overâyour pant leg is tattered now, a long strip of fabric ripped from the bottom. A flash of crimson peeks from under the remaining cloth.
Thin lines of blood bloom over the joint there, slowly running down the length of your leg.
âYouâre bleeding,â he rasps, assessing the extent of your wound. Itâs not deepâa skinned knee at most, which heâs grateful for. Heâs treated much worse on his own body.
Thereâs so much to do, he thinks, pushing through the foggy haze permeating his mind. He has to retrieve his fatherâs body. He has to treat your wound. With his father gone, he needs to make a plan for his own survival.
Itâs not as if his father ever really helped out anyway, but the thought of being truly, totally alone is harrowing. It takes another minute for him to remember that youâre still standing at his side.
âGo back to the house,â he mumbles, almost to himself. âWait for me in the kitchenââ
âNo!â You blurt, looking surprised despite yourself. Kinich jolts, meeting your eyes. âYouâre going to get his body, right?â
After a moment of hesitation, he nods solemnly.
Kinich has looked down these cliffs many times; he knows the sheer height of them. Thereâs absolutely no chance that his fatherâs body is in any sort of good shape at the bottom. The thought makes bile rise in his throat.
You swallow. âSo letâs go.â
The fear is reflected in the way your hands shake, but your shoulders straighten and you reach for him, slotting your fingers together. Itâs the most bravery that you can manage, at least right now. Kinich accepts it gratefully.
Making your way down the cliff is treacherous with the little light you have. You donât speak, barely even breathe. The stars lay watchful above, winking and illuminating your way.Â
Even with your hand in his, Kinich glances back occasionally, ensuring youâre still with himâyou always are, still sniffling and scrubbing at your eyes.Â
Itâs hard for you, and itâs obvious; he has to catch you several times when your foot slips off the stone, but youâre still with him. Youâre still with him, he thinks. Kinich repeats it to himself a few times, letting it anchor him as he struggles down the rocks.
His fatherâs body is stiff by the time you reach it.
Youâre too afraid to look at first, meekly standing behind him. It takes a few minutes before you work up the courage to peek over his shoulder, one hand over your mouth. Kinich isnât sure whether to pray, or cry, or leave it all behindâfor a few minutes, he doesnât do anything at all.
The body is mangled, as heâd expected. You donât dare to look at it again; you pace about the area, trying to keep your wits about you.Â
Everything about it is too familiar. He sees himself in the corpse, the blond hair fanned around the head like a halo, the golden eyes forever stuck in a faraway stare. The grappling hook that he always kept on his person.
His father. A half of him. His flesh and blood.
And heâd let him go.
Kinich feels for his own heartbeat over his shirt, fisting at the cloth there.
You are still alive, it whispers.
So he calls your name, soft. You peek at him through the darkness.
âWe have to bring it back,â he murmurs.
And you, despite it all, despite the terror that licks hot up your neck, simply nod.
âOkay.â
As the two of you drag the corpse back toward the house, fingertips sticky with blood that freezes in the passing wind, Kinich realizes itâ
This is the coldest November heâs ever experienced.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kinich x reader#genshin impact#kinich#genshin impact imagines#kinich x you#adeptus ink#tw death#tw vomit#tw abuse
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Things about your next partnerË àŁȘ .
Disc: this is a pac for everyone so only take what resonates with you (especially if you have a specific type) and leave what doesn't. Reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated, thank you! âĄ
đŐá±č ïčŒ Ì« á±čŐ𩯠ê(ăêÂŽâ`)ê đá”â Üž. Ì« .â ÍĄ đŠŻ
Ko-fi Paid readings
Pile One:
Your next partner might be into photography, most likely just as a hobby but there is potential for a profession as well. Expect them to take a lot of pictures of you and most likely of the surroundings around you as well! This person also likes animals. Likes to wear some kind of accessories, prefers silver over gold. They can cook and like to do so but not too often, prefer it if their s/o cooks for them and also really likes take out. Golden retriever vibe. Naturally wavy hair, could be dyed but natural hair seems to be brown for most, red for others. Your person is outgoing but not necessarily extroverted. They like peaceful people and places. They don't have a specific style, they prefer neutral colors like black, white, grey, beige on themselves but will occasionally wear different colors as well. They have a piercing or a tattoo - or plan to get one. S/he could also be into dancing. This person likes daytime over night.
Pile Two:
This person has naturally darker hair, but could dye it from time to time. S/he is also really into music, listens to more than just one genre. The type of person to text back within a few minutes, as long as you are one of their beloved ones. They might appear cold or distant at times, but are really kind and warm hearted. This person also likes to take care of themselves, whether it's skincare or very good hygiene. This person seems rather introverted, but definitely has a "crazy" side to them that they only show the people they are close to. S/he has multiple beauty spots - more on the torso but for some it could be one or two right on the face or neck. For some of you, this person can also play a (or multiple) instrument. They also really like to sing! This person is the affectionate type of person, likes skinship. This person likes to sleep longer.
Pile Three:
This person is taller than you or has long legs. S/he might be into sports or just naturally has a slim body type. This person could also be a foreigner, someone with different backgrounds than you - for some this includes cultural differences, for others it's possible that this person grew up in the same country as you so they are used to those cultures, another possibility is that s/he is mixed. They most likely can speak more than just one language. This person is street smart. This person prefers to wear black. S/he has beauty spots on the arm(s). They could be somewhat into fashion. This person prefers calling over texting. S/he has many different kinds of interests. A good listener but not so good at comforting. This person prefers evening/night over day. S/he likes energy drinks.
-H
#pac#pap#pick a photo#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a number#pick a pile#choose a pile#aesthetic#tarot readings#kpop reading#tarot reading#tarot#kpop tarot#kpop#intuitive reading#paid tarot readings#free readings#free tarot reading#paid readings#paid services#paid reading#choose#pick an image#fs#tarot future spouse#fs tarot#next partner#spiritual#oracle
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đ Ë â êł * àŁ Da Vinci in making â Gojo Satoru
Warnings: establish relationship; you have a kid together idk
Satoru who sits there with his shoulders shaking and lips bitten hard, as he tries to hold back his laughter.
âItâs a very pretty drawing honey,â you add weakly, your help not worth a dime as your son sighed in his dismay.
The both of you, Mr. and Mrs. (Or another Mr. If thatâs what you prefer) Gojo lay in your bed, ready to call it a night when your son hopped into the room all so merrilyâin his hands, hoisted his proud little drawing.
But that was the scene 5 minutes before the silly little disaster because as of now, Satoru sat their clutching a pillow to his face as he tried to hide his laughter in vainââItâs ugly,â your child whined again, deflection plastered over his face.
âOh baby itâs not- Itâs, itâs really p-pretty baby,â
âWhyâs dad laughing then?â The innocence in the words of the little boy panged nails of guilt at your heart for you too, struggled to manage your own laughter.
âThatâs because,â you paused, it was a hideous drawing, âBecauseâŠbecause,â you stared at your husband, glaring at himâyou knew he was aware of your annoyed gaze, âBecause my sonâs Da Vinci in making,â Satoru mumbled against the plush of the pillow.
And you wondered just how he managed Tsumiki and Megumi when he didâbut then Megumi wasnât exactly happy to be with Satoru anyways.
âDaddyâs an idiot and doesnât understand the beauty of art,â
And just at that, Satoru cackled into the pillow louderâ the annoying idiot, you groaned internally, âItâs alright sweetheart, just gotta practice more right? We- we can put it on the fridge if you want,â your suggestion did lighten his mood a slight.
âBut daddyâsâŠâ your sonâs dismay confused your heart- torn apart you sat, âDaddy will get it framed if thatâs what it takes baby,â you grumbled under your breathâpinching Satoruâs side as you did so, a squeal he let out at that.
Your son smiled softly at his fatherâs squealâloving the sound, âYou like it mommy?â
âCourseâ I do honey,â and that was solace to your little son, who wobbled awayâshooting his father the ultimate side eye when Satoru asked for a hug from him.
âYouâre such an idiot,â you mumbled as the door closed behind him, huffing at your husband.
âYou gotta admit babe,â Satoru grinned, âit was ugly,â
And you had to admit for what it was, a pretty ugly stick man for Satoru that heâd drawnâbut surely, it was the thought and effort that counted.
âBut alright, Iâll frame it for right above our bed so you can see sexy lil me when I fuck-â
â-Satoru!â
All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojou x reader#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you#satorugojo#gojou satoru x y/n
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seasons of you.
pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster
as always, iâd appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading âĄ
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
minho falls in love with you four times a year.
minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.
minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.
minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.
minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.
but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.
minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.
permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#lee know#lee minho
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It's OSC gift exchange number 4, baby!!
Thats right folks!!! once again so so excited to host the gift exchange, hopefully itll be yet another fun one! :D
doing things slightly differently this year: if you wanna join you can just fill out this google form! You can also still join by replying/reblogging/dming me with what you'd like if you prefer to do it that way though.
Rules, dates, and details are all under the cut (and also in the form), please read them through fully before joining!!!
Entries close November 28th at midnight (est)!
For those not in the know, the gift exchange is just what is sounds like! Upon joining, you tell me what you like to see in you gift. After, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee, and will make a gift for them based on what they've requested. When the day comes, you'll post your gift and @ the person it's for!
The timeline this year looks like this:
Nov. 7-Nov. 28: Join the gift exchange by filling out this form, dm-ing me, replying, or tagging this post with what you'd like to receive. You can ask for anything--shows, ships, ocs, whatever! Additionally, if there's anything you dont want to see or can't make (ie, ships that make you uncomfortable), you can make a note of that as well
Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned and what they'd like! This'll most likely be done through tumblr dms, so if that's an issue do let me know!
Dec. 1-30: You make your gift! This can be anything, from art to writing to music and more! so long as you follow your giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!
Dec. 31: Post your gift, being sure to @ the person its from! Please do not post your gift before this date!!!
Some other things to note:
You can request anything--shows, characters, ships, etc--just please make sure they are osc related! it is an osc gift exchange after all
Asking for OCs is very much allowed, just be sure to provide me with a reference when you join
in regards to things you can't do, please do note that "i haven't seen x show so i wont do it" or "i'll only do requests for x show" are not being treated as valid requests in this context, so i won't guarantee them. also please remember that giftees are assigned randomly.
If your giftee requests more than one thing, you aren't obligated to fulfill all of their requests if you don't want to. Just be sure to do one of them and you're good!
If you need to drop out for any reason, that is completely ok, it happens! just please be sure to let me know ahead of time so I can re-assign your giftee!
On that note, if you have reason to believe you will be unavailable or otherwise unable to post your gift on the 31st, please be sure to tell me so we can work something out! Additionally, if you can't reach out on tumblr (say, your blog gets deleted) you can also poke me on bluesky (@ bumblebeeberry) or discord (thatonegaycat) about it
You can not join anonymously! I just don't think it'd fair to your giftee
While I highly doubt I will need to, I can bar you from participating if I deem it necessary. Again, unlikely, but in the off-chance it does happen I will message you to let you know, pretty please do not yell at me if I do
Not a requirement but when I send you your giftee if you could just let me know you saw the message i would greatly appreciate it!
As per usual I'll be tagging everything with #osc gift exchange, feel free to use it on your gift as well!
That's it! if you have any questions, comments, notes, what have you, please don't hesitate to dm me! :]
#yippie!!! opening it early this year cause i wanna#went with both joining options also cause i wanna. also cause i want folks to have as many options as possible yk#apologies for the tag spam here#osc#object show community#osc gift exchange#object oc#bfdi#bfb#tpot#ii#inanimate insanity#hfjone#itft#bfdia#what other show tags do people use these days#animatic battle#tdos#burner osc
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make up
(how your arguments and making up after them would look like)
contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader | genre: angst with comfort | tw! arguing (obv) | wc: 1,1k
reblogs are highly appreciated!!!
authorâs note: i think iâm back (this time for real thoughâŠ)
Lee Heeseung | ìŽíŹìč
arguments with heeseung are not very often
he prefers solving problems instead of accusing each other
overall just communicates very well
but sometimes he just breaks because of stress
or emotions he doesnât talk about often
After a few minutes of talking in slightly raised voices, Heeseung stopped himself before saying things he would regret. Instead, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples. You stared at him in silence, waiting for his response. This whole situation could have been avoided if only he allowed you to help him relax and didnât lace his stress on you. But thatâs not what happened when you suggested his well-deserved rest.
âIâm sorry,â he finally said, eyes glued to his shoes. His voice cracked a little along the way he spoke quietly. âI didnât mean to lash out at you like that.â
He looked up at you. His eyes were tired and face was completely drained from any energy.
You smiled reassuringly at him and opened your arms invitingly. He gladly waddled towards you and melted in your touch, that he needed this whole week. He hid his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your perfume.
âI know you didnât, my love.â Your voice came out muffled by his hoodie. âWish you would let me take care of you more, though,â you said, pulling away from his arms.
Heeseung smiled sheepishly and nodded. He placed a soft peck on your forehead, knowing how much you loved it. And he wasnât wrong.
Park Jongseong | ë°ìą
ì±
okay,, arguments with jay always end up with cuddles and delicious food
but before you get to the nice part đđ
thereâs a pretty heated argument happening right there
both of you are shouting trying to be heard
but neither of you can do so in this chaos
In the corner of your eye, you noticed how Jay rolled his eyes at your words. That small gesture added fuel to the raging fire that erupted in your kitchen.
âWhatâs your problem, Jay? Why canât you just put yourself in my shoes?â You looked at him with your arms crossed.
âThe thing is I used to be in your situation! And I donât want you to make the same mistakes as I did.â He tried his best to hold the reins of his emotions as much as he could, though your defensive (and offensive) attitude made it pretty difficult. He looked at you helplessly as you stood your ground. He let out a final sigh. âHope youâll realize that Iâm only trying to help you. Iâm not your opponent.â
He slowly left you in the kitchen and you watched how he disappeared behind the door. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, surrounded by the heavy air of your argument. Thinking about it, you had come to the realization that all he wanted was to help you, while you made a whole fuss about him being simply right. With a heavy heart, I carefully opened the door to your bedroom and peeked inside. He stood in front of his desk silently, organizing some papers.
âIâm sorry,â you said, breaking the silence.
Jay turned around and put on a comforting smile. With opened arms for a hug, he said: âItâs okay. Come here.â
Sim Jaeyun | ìŹìŹì€
this man right there is not physically able to be angry with you
let alone raise his voice at you (yk that one iland ep⊠đ)
he just agrees to everything you say
hates seeing you upset so avoids quarrels as much as he can
Jake knew your weekly movie marathon had to wait a bit longer the moment you opened the front door of your shared apartment with fury. From bursting flames in your eyes he could see something happened. Furthermore, something that made you lose your cool.
âHi baby, can I help you somehow?â he asked calmly, continuing to prepare your favorite snacks.
You glanced at him angrily and let out a scoff. âYou would know if only you picked up the phone.â
Jake bit his lower lip at your words, realizing he might have not charged his phone after coming home.
âIâm sorry, I forgot to charge it,â he explained honestly.
âWhy do you need it if youâre not gonna use it?â You threw your arms in the air and continued to pace around the living room trying to find something.
âBaby,â Jake called, coming closer to you. âIâm sorry, but you know, it doesnât happen often. I just wanted to prepare stuff for tonight,â he reasoned and hugged you from behind.
feeling how your tensed body relaxed in his arms, Jake made you face him, now looking at your pout.
âIâm sorry,â you mumbled, realizing your mistake.
Not wanting to continue that unreasonable argument, he simply asked: âHow can I help you?â
Park Sunghoon | ë°ì±í
arguments with sunghoon are nearly impossible
just when he senses that some quarrel is coming he becomes very quiet
he waits for you to calm down before proceeding with solutions to your problems
the last thing he wants is to upset you
thatâs why he prefers peaceful discourse
The atmosphere in your apartment has been pretty heavy today. Your constant loud sighing, rapid movements, and eye rolls told Sunghoon everything: âI feel like breaking something right nowâ, âWhy is everything so irritating today?â and âIâm so pissed right nowâ. He silently watched as you paced between the kitchen and your bedroom to find something to do. To find something to take your anger out on. After dating quite a long time with you he knew your temperament, especially when it came to your frustrated state. Instead of potentially setting you on fire unintentionally he decided to wait for you to do something. And you certainly did.
âAre you just going to stare at me or maybe ask whatâs wrong?â you snapped after noticing him peacefully enjoying his afternoon tea and book.
He calmly placed both on the table and smiled slightly. âI didnât want to pressure you toâŠâ
âSo you preferred to stay silent and enjoy the show of me being stressed?â You didnât let him finish. His face made you want to bite your tongue yet it was too late. You already lashed out at him. Your expression dropped just like your heart. âIâm sorry,â you whispered with a lowered head.
After noticing how he stood up, you soon felt how he pulled you in a hug and swayed your body. Despite your terrible attitude, he placed a few kisses on your head and cheek.
âItâs okay.â His voice came out muffled by your hair. âDo you want to rant now?â
thank you for reading! back to the masterlist
taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @yenqa, @heesitation, @edensgardenn
#kflixnet#enhanet#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen fic#enhypen imagine#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#heeseung x reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung enhypen#jay x reader#jay scenarios#jongseong x reader#jongseong scenarios#jay enhypen#jake x reader#jake scenarios#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun scenarios#jake enhypen#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen sunghoon
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SWEET NOTHINGS .á
â© â there's nothing like doing nothing with you.
â© â includes: xiao, childe, thoma, alhaitham, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 292. reblogs are highly appreciated !!
xiao lets you put random stickers on his face. on his cheek, on his eyelid, even on his lipsâhe doesnât mind it. he finds it cute that youâre happy with just the mere activity of putting random, cute stickers on him.
childe walks with you hand-in-hand in the streets, even though it's a little past one in the morning. swaying your intertwined fingers together like youâre kids all over again, sometimes even twirling you around, he couldnât ask for anything more.
alhaitham likes it the most whenever you two just sit in silence, reading the books you recommend to each other. after you both finish it, you two will share your opinions, ratings, and even rants about it.
thoma is always down to try out new recipes with you! whether it be desserts, meals, or snacks, you can always count on him. the kitchen is an extraordinary place for him; he likes to believe that we are not merely eating but consuming an act of love.
neuvillette prefers to simply catch up with you after a long day. laying down in bed with you, talking in small voices that only the two of you could hear, talking about what went down at a trial he recently didâor he could just hold you in his arms in silence and fall asleep with just that. either way, neuvillette is more fond of this.
wriothesley enjoys it when you share a cup of tea with him every evening. itâs a little something that he tends to expect whenever he gets home after work. youâre sitting by the small dining table that has two cups of tea on it, and the space next to you will always and forever be reserved for him and only him.
#( writings )#astronetwrk#favoniuslibrary#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin imagines#xiao x reader#childe x reader#alhaitham x reader#thoma x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#xiao#childe#alhaitham#thoma#neuvillette#wriothesley#x reader
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SMUTTY CHRIS STURNIOLO HEADCANONS (!domchris version)
- this is my personal opinion, if u disagree tell me in the comments
- also english isn't my first language so bear with me please lol
- if u don't like this type of content do not read!!
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
he's a switch for sure but more tilted to the dominant side. he likes when u take control and tell him what to do but he still prefers to be the one that leads.
he loves backshots, in front of a mirror specifically because he still wants to see your beautiful face and how you roll your eyes out of pleasure. he's pulling your hair, grabbing u by your neck, leaning forward to your ear to whisper some dirty words.
he LOVES to edge u. it brings him so much joy seeing all desperate and needy to cum you actually start to cry, and then he will have the audacity to say something like ,,aww, do you really wanna cum so bad?" driving u even more over the edge. and when u cum without his permission, he takes that personally. ,,you just cannot wait 5 minutes? you wanna know who cums like how u just did? whores. i think i clearly said that you cum when i tell u to didn't i?" next thing you know, your face is buried in your pillow, he occasionally lifts your head up to tilt it to him. tears streaming down your cheeks, your face burning red, sweat paths going down from your forehead.
he tends to be real touchy in public, mainly because he's always horny and always wants head, anywhere and at anytime. he'd sneak u to the bathrooms when yall be having dinner with nick and matt and probably would bent u over the sink and just pray no one comes in. he would also inappropriately touch you as u sit next to him cuz he's just that needy.
one thing about him, he actually prefers when you're on top. he can see your face expressions which get him even harder than he already is and he loves to see your tits bounce. he'd hold u by your waist to help you when he notices you're getting tired.
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
- alright i think that's it, this is my first time posting something this long (even tho it could be longer) and smutty so please be nice
- reblogs are highly appreciated
- let me know if yall wanted a matt version or !subchris version
#chris sturniolo headcanon#christopher sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo headcanon#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#smut#i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism#chris sturniolo texts
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[F4M] You Leave a Naughty Voicemail for Your Husband While He Works Overtime [Established Relationship][Mutual Masturbation][Car Sex][Sub to Soft Dom][Breeding Kink][Mating Press][No Thoughts][Brain Empty][Just Fucking]
Read Part 1 here!
Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.6k
cw: established relationship, p*rn without plot, smut â  PIV sex (cowgirl, missionary, mating press, doggy), mutual masturbation, mentions of sex toys, edging, blowjob, car sex, clitoral stimulation, spanking, some spit play, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, honey, princess, baby, good girl/boy), slight degradation kink
Summary: You record a naughty voicemail for your husband while he works overtime, leaving him yearning for more. Authorâs Note: Hiya friends! Breaking my tumblr hiatus temporarily to post this. Consider this a sequel/part 2 to my other fic inspired by more NSFW audio. Someone gave me the idea to do a fic with the roles reversed, so here it is! Had a blast writing this, so I hope you enjoy! Bonus: here are some NSFW audios that inspired it (of course, theyâre AugustInTheWinter): Link 1, Link 2 (reddit links, 18+). Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks so much for reading! Header image from the manga On Doorstep (it's BL and the MC looks like Nanami, I highly recommend). MDNI banner created by @/mikeykuns.
Itâs past eleven when Nanami steps out of the conference room with the rest of his colleagues, having just finished the last team meeting of the day. He was asked to work overtime to help fix any remaining issues before the end of the fiscal year, which is in a few days. Normally, heâd never agree to this, but with your wedding anniversary approaching in a month, he wants the extra income to buy you that gold chain bracelet youâve had an eye on.Â
With all his tasks complete for the day, he can finally leave. He gathers his belongings, checking his phone to see the missed call and voicemail you left him about an hour ago. She must be asleep already, he thinks, not bothering to call you back. When he gets in his car, he props his phone to the mount, ready to listen to your voicemail on Bluetooth while he drives home. He presses play as soon as he pulls out from his parking spot.
âKento.â Your voice is hushed and breathy. âI miss you.â
Nanami clenches his jaw, already aroused by your sultry tone. He grips the steering wheel tighter, glancing at the phone screen to check the length of the voicemail: three minutes. Thatâs the limit before it cuts you off. And while the ride home is a mere ten, he has a feeling it will be excruciatingly long by the way this message is already playing.Â
You sigh. âI miss you so much, Kento.â Thereâs rustling in the background; Nanami imagines that youâre turning over in bed, under the covers. What are you wearing right now? The cute flannel pajamas he bought you two years ago for Valentineâs Day? Or the lingerie set you purchased yourself to surprise him for your most recent anniversary? At this rate, for his own sanity, heâs not sure which one he prefers.Â
âI canât wait till you get home, honey. Iâm soâŠâ Your voice is heavy with lust; he can see the provocative face youâre making as you squeeze the phone to your ear, reaching between your legs to that throbbing pussy. âIâm so horny right now. I wish you were here.â If he listens closely, he can hear the squelch of fingers flicking your clit rapidly. âBut since youâre not, is it okay if I touch myself?â
Heâs tempted to slam on the gas and fly through the city to get to you in record time. Break all driving violations and his own personal morals to watch you play with yourself. Itâs torture, sitting behind this red light, following the rules, listening to you moan into the phone, so needy and desperate for his cock. Whatâs worse is that youâre ovulating this week; he knows how pent up you must be from his absence tonight. Fertile and in heat, that wet sloppy cunt begging to be filled with his seed. He promised heâd make it up to you tomorrow morning, but why waste this perfectly good opportunity? Especially when youâre practically begging for it.Â
âRemember how good you fucked me last night? How you pinned me down by the wrists? How tightly I squeezed my legs around you as you pumped me full of cum?â Itâs all Nanami thought about when he wasnât focused on work today. Enough to force him into the menâs room to jerk himself off, fantasizing about it. Replaying your wanton moans ringing in his ears, the way your body convulsed around him, that adorably dumb expression on your face while you were getting fucked into oblivion. Normally, heâd be ashamed of himself at how lewd he was being in a work setting, but the memory of you was too irresistible, even for him.Â
Heâs not usually perverse like this, but something about you drives him crazy. His hands are typically at 10-and-2, the correct position to steer the wheel. But just this once, he deems it necessary to lose his prim and proper attitude. He drops one into his lap to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and reach down to palm his cock through his briefs. Itâs enough to gain a bit of relief from this torment, at least until heâs safely home. Nanami wipes the sweat beading on his brow, accelerating too hard when the light finally switches to green, keeping his grip steady as he strokes his cock, listening intently to your voice surrounding him in the car.Â
âAre you hard right now, Kento?â Thereâs more movement in the background, as if youâre opening and shutting a drawer. Blood rushes into his cheeks, predicting exactly what youâre about to do. âDo you like listening to me touch myself?â Thereâs a familiar hum now, and he visualizes the pink vibrator buzzing in your hand, the fluttering tip teasing your swollen clit. Heâd do anything to teleport directly into the bedroom and have his way with you. Â
âIâm so lonely in this bed without you. Iâm fucking myself, thinking about you. Wishing itâs you instead of this stupid toy. Can you hear it, sweetie?â
âYes,â he answers to no one, shoving his underwear down to release his erection, stroking himself faster with his right fist. Heâs forced to stop again; how many fucking streetlights does this goddamn city need anyways?! Itâs excruciating.Â
âMy pussy is aching for your big cock.â The buzzing intensifies; youâve increased the setting one level, on the verge of an orgasm. Typical behavior of his obedient slut of a wife. He loves sliding his fingers inside while you press the vibrator deeper into your clit. Heâs obsessed with the way you gush around him, clenching him tighter, addicted to how it tastes on his tongue when he slides those cum-coated digits into his mouth.Â
âHurry home, honey. Iâm waiting for you. This pussy is already so wet for you. Iâm going to use you as my sex toy tonight.â
âFuck, I want that. I really want that,â Nanami moans in response, releasing his cock from his grasp, thighs fidgeting from arousal.Â
âYou love it when I use you, huh? Love it when I fuck you silly until youâre milked dry.â
He groans, bucking his hips into nothing in the seat, briefly losing control of the wheel, causing the car to swerve. âFuck, I love it, sweetie. I love it. Please.â Heâs not sure what heâs begging for. All he knows is that if he doesnât get home soon, heâll combust, taking the car down with him.Â
âFuck, Kento. Iâm thinking about how deep you hit it from behind. Slapping my ass, treating me like a bad girl, pounding your hips into me like a fucking animal. I get so fucking cock drunk off you. Makes me want to come just talking about it.â
âThen come for me, baby,â he blurts out, fully aware heâs talking to a recording. Heâs completely lost it now.Â
âAh, Iâm close. I â â you interrupt yourself with your own whimpers. Nanami listens as he cruises past the speed limit now, wiping the bead of precum at the tip of his cock with his thumb,  edging himself. Itâd be a shame for him to waste his load onto his lap. Heâs going to give you every fucking drop he has. Build it up so that your pussy is flooding with his hot, sticky mess.Â
You whine loudly, âIâm coming, Kento. Ah, Iâm coming for you.â You moan into the phone, and Nanami has to release himself to prevent from orgasming too, Then, thereâs silence on your end, except for your staggered breaths and occasionally rustling of the sheets beneath you. Eventually, the voicemail ends without another word, and he assumes that youâve fallen asleep. He smiles to himself, imagining you, his gorgeous wife, with your legs splayed out, vibrator loosely gripped, completely knocked out on the bed.Â
He replays the voicemail, continuing to edge himself until he finally pulls into their driveway, opening the garage. He parks, shutting off the ignition, then searches the backseat for the box of tissues, wanting to clean up whatever mess heâs made. Before he gets the chance to, the door leading inside swings open, and itâs you, standing in the door frame in a sheer lingerie nightgown. The same one he expected youâd be wearing tonight.Â
He swallows hard, cock still out, stiffer than ever, watching you step towards the driverâs side, bright face peering through the window. You glance to his lap, noticing the lewd sight.Â
You tap on the glass, feigning innocence. âKento?â
He opens the door slowly, face flushed, eyes half-lidded in a daze. âSweetheart, please.âÂ
His slacks have been shoved off haphazardly down his legs, engorged cock sprung against his abdomen, precum leaking out the tip. His cheeks are pink, hair tousled, forehead dewy with sweat. You smirk at him, pleased to see that heâs listened to your voicemail. âOh, honey. Look at you. Have you been a bad boy?â You surround him with your fingers, jerking him slowly. He twitches at your touch, sensitive and aching in your fist.Â
He shakes his head, shutting his eyes closed as you stroke him. âNo,â he stutters, âIâve been very good.â
You inspect the car, realizing what heâs trying to convey to you; he hasnât come yet. âOh, baby,â you coo, squeezing his cock in your fist. âYouâve been very, very good. My good boy.â
He nods this time, leaning forward for a kiss. âYes, Iâm a good boy for you. Iâm your good boy,â he huffs through gritted teeth. Nanami isnât normally like this, so submissive and needy. But tonight, he has zero hesitation; heâs begging to be dominated, to be used and toyed with.Â
You lick into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. âDo you want your reward now? Or should we go inside first?â
He wonât last much longer, so he spits out, âNow. Please.â
You smirk, kissing him messily, tongues swirling, swapping spit while his dick pulsates in your palm. âFuck,â he groans, rocking his hips into you. âIâm going to come if you keep â â he chokes on his saliva, unable to finish his sentence.Â
You giggle, nibbling at his ear lobe. âIf I do what, baby?â You want to tease him a bit more, so you bend over his lap, kneeling on the bottom frame of the car, sinking down on him with your mouth. He throws his head back against the headrest, swearing loudly. You blow him until his cock is lubricated with your spit and heâs squirming above you, ready to burst.Â
He pulls you off him abruptly, tugging you towards him. âI canât,â he urges, completely red now, all frenzied and flustered. âPlease, I canât take it anymore.â
Giggling, you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap and smooching his forehead. âAlright, honey. I tormented you enough.â Youâre not wearing any panties beneath your nightgown, so when you start to rub yourself on his shaft, his eyes widen in surprise, staring at you, sputtering a mix of curses and nonsense.
You grin, kissing him softly, rocking yourself along his length. âI told you, didnât I? This pussy is so wet for you. Iâve been prepping myself all night, thinking about you.â
âFuck, Iâm going to come. Put it in, sweetheart. Hurry.â
You guide him in you easily until he bottoms out, sitting on him without moving, licking into his mouth. His hands slide around your hips, holding you tenderly, staying still, melting into your kiss. Before you can start bouncing on him, he squeezes you, huffing, âIâm coming.âÂ
His dick pulsates, spurting his hot seed deep inside you. You continue to kiss him, smiling against his lips, pleased and satisfied. When heâs finished, you graze his ear. âGood boy.â
âFuck,â he mutters, brows knit together, eyes shut tight. He opens one to peek at you, embarrassed. âThis is your fault.â The blush on his face cascades along his neck. âYou knew this would happen when you left me that voicemail.â
Laughing, you give him a smooch on his cheek. âYouâre right. I was being bad tonight. Are you going to punish me for it?â You tug at his tie, loosening it on his collar, trailing his chest to unbutton his dress shirt.Â
He relaxes, smirking as he slaps your ass with his palm, cupping the flesh immediately after. You whine his name at the contact, nuzzling into his neck. âAh, Kento.â
âBad girls deserve to be punished,â he growls, low and wicked, delivering a fresh smack to the other side. His cock is erect again inside you, stuffing you full once more. âYouâre going to take this cock until I canât get hard anymore. Understand?â He rocks you back and forth on him, thumb pressed at your clit, rubbing small circles. âUntil this slutty little cunt is so full of my cum.â
You nod silently, clinging to his shoulders, body trembling with arousal. The switch in demeanor, from him begging you for sweet release to now being domineering and cocky, has you titillating for more. He chuckles, wrapping you in snug embrace, kissing the top of your head. âLook at you, darling. Youâre shaking. Letâs go to the bedroom, okay princess?â And his ability to turn on this sweet charm has you softening in his arms, pliant and ready to be played with.Â
Soon, youâre inside your bedroom, legs spread wide, some residual cum trickling down the inside of your thighs. He strips his remaining clothes off, cock unbelievable rigid in his fist, jerking himself off to the sight of you in your transparent lingerie, his load leaking from your slit.Â
âYouâre a fucking slut for getting me worked up like this,â he grunts, hovering over you, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. âI edged myself the entire drive, saving all this cum for you.â
You bite your lip, holding back the guttural, animalistic moan escaping from within your throat. His confession has you quaking, eager to be filled even more to the brim with his seed, eager to be bred. You can blame it on the fact that youâre currently in heat, or that youâre just this much in love with your husband that you canât think of anything else you want more in this moment than to be connected with him. You grip the sheets below you, fanning your thighs impatiently, waiting for his cock. âBreed me, honey. Fuck all your cum inside me. I want all of it, every single drop. Hurry.â
Oh how quickly do the roles reverse.Â
He slides his cock inside you, his own cum coating it as he pulls out slightly, observing the lewd scene. âLook at how full you are, and itâs still not enough. Such a greedy cum slut.â He spits a frothy wad of his saliva onto your clit, smearing it with his thumb. âYouâre going to come on this cock before I give you anything. Got it?â
You nod, closing your eyes, turning your head to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure rippling through your body as he pounds into your pussy, the sensation so intense it resonates all the way down to your toes. Heâs so mean, so unlike his usual doting self when heâs in this mood, and you canât help but succumb to it. He tips your chin back towards him. âLook at it,â he demands. You open your eyes, his expression wild, fucking you faster, his thumb working your clit ruthlessly. âWatch me fuck this messy cunt.â He grips you behind the legs, hoisting you so that your knees are towards your chest, holding you into a mating press. Unable to contain it any longer, you moan loudly, grabbing at your own ankles to keep yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.Â
âThis is what you wanted, isnât it sweetheart? To be fucked and pounded by me instead of that silly toy. To use me and milk me dry of every last drop. You asked for this. This is what you get for being so fucking naughty.â He rests one of your legs onto his shoulder, turning to smooch the side of your knee, sucking on your skin.Â
You continue to moan his name until itâs reduced into a blubber of incoherent cries as youâre pushed over the edge, reaching your climax. âThatâs it, come on my cock, princess. Thatâs a good girl.â Still, he doesnât ease up; in fact, he fucks you harder, spurred by your orgasm, intent on chasing another. âJust keep taking it, okay beautiful? I know you can do it.â He pounds you into the mattress, the bed creaking noisily beneath you with each solid thrust, perspiration dripping from his body onto yours. Youâre no longer thinking clearly; everything is in a haze, blissful and euphoric, only your husband on your brain. Heâs fucked all other thoughts out of you. Has you obsessed with his cock, hungry for his cum, keen on him to breed your fertile womb.
âFuck, Kento, right there! Right there!â you cry out, grasping his hair between your fingers, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.Â
âRight there, huh?â he teases, slowing his pace to thrust deep into your G-spot, nails digging into the flesh of your hips. âAlways taking me so fucking deep.â He grabs your wrist, placing your hand at your clit. âTouch yourself while I fuck you. Squirt on my cock like a good little slut.â
You obey him, flicking your sensitive bud with your middle finger while he watches intently, another orgasm fast approaching. You twitch around him, pleasure overtaking your entire body, sending a rush of ecstasy that has you seeing stars.Â
Of course, it still isnât enough for him. Not after what you put him through earlier. âTurn over,â he mutters, pulling out, cum spilling onto the sheets. âYou know what to do.â
Heâs right; itâs second nature to you now, to throw your ass back and fuck yourself with his cock. All he has to do is kneel behind you with his hard dick out while you swallow him whole, pumping it in and out of your pussy. It doesnât matter how pliant you feel, or how fucked out you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. You know exactly what to do to get what you want out of him.Â
You can feign innocence all you want, pretend to be shocked when he manhandles you like a fucking rag doll, slamming his hips into you, wet slaps bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Shrieking when he presses his rough fingers to your swollen clit. Burying your face into the pillow, muffling your shameless moans and shrieks of, âFuck me, fuck me, fuck me!â This is what you intended when you spread your legs earlier, phone in your hand, ready to leave that filthy voicemail for him, knowing heâd listen on his way home. Knowing heâd save all his cum for you because youâre ovulating, and he wants more than anything to get you pregnant. Knowing heâd want to fuck you into a frenzy regardless, always desperate to empty his load inside you. Itâs what you want because you know he wants it too. Thatâs what makes it even better, knowing your husband is as feral for you as you are for him.Â
âFuck, Iâm close,â he whispers, voice wavering.
Craning your neck to face him, you murmur, âWant to see you.â
He smiles, pulling out, your pussy fluttering around the emptiness, already eager to be filled again. âI want to see you too, my love.â He flips you over, pushing your knees towards your ears into a deeper mating press, kissing you sweetly on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, whining his name into his ear as he fucks you rough, the bed frame precariously shifting with each plunge of his cock.Â
âFuck, Iâm coming,â he groans, cock twitching and spurting every hot pulse inside you. âTake all of my cum, sweetheart. All of it,â he mutters, forehead pressed to yours. âI love you. I love you so much.â
When he finishes, he lowers your legs slowly, rolling beside you to cradle you in his arms. You nestle into his chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat. âAre you okay, sweetie?â he asks, massaging small circles into your back.
You nod against him, remaining silent, too drained to even respond with words. He lets you rest like this for a moment before hopping off the bed, stepping into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. Shortly after, he returns to you with a container of baby wipes in hand and a glass of water in the other.Â
Youâre a mess down there, sleek, wet, and gushing with slick. He kneels beside you, wiping your forehead first from sweat. You peer up at him, smiling, cupping his cheek. âThank you,â you mouth to him. With another, he cleans your hands, then your legs, always glancing at you to make sure youâre still doing fine. Youâre truly grateful for having a spouse as attentive and as caring as your husband, who, despite his typically stoic disposition, always dotes on you so sweetly.Â
Done cleaning you up, he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb, saying, âDrink water, honey.â
You grumble at him, pretending to be asleep. He chuckles, leaning in closer for a kiss. âAnd go pee.â
You peek at him with one eye open, nuzzling your nose to his. âOkay, fine. But after you hold me for one more minute.â
He smiles, sliding his arms around you. âAnything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.â
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