#and it's only a minor disturbance to their long existence

[beta-therapy]

You are not Entitled to Sex

Society has made massive strides in allowing women to be sexually free, the most important of which being the development of effective technology for contraception and female reproductive health, as well as the large-scale social destigmatization of public displays of female sexuality. Although this societal transformation is only just getting started, we are now at a point where women in Western countries can dress how they want in public without getting judged (for the most part; misogyny still exists but more and more people are taking a stand against it). We are at a point where women can have sex without having to worry about getting pregnant. As such, the downsides of sexual promiscuity have been eliminated, and women are no longer required to constrain themselves to a monogamous relationship in order to have sex. They are free to have sex with whoever they want without being forced to settle for a man who will actually dedicate himself to a long-term relationship.

And we are all familiar with the main result of this sexual liberation: a small minority of hyper successful men get to experience the vast majority of sexual encounters, and if this is not you, then you either remain a completely sexless virgin, or you have to fight for crumbs of attention from older, less attractive, or “ran-through” women who don’t respect you and will cheat on you in a heartbeat. After all, women fantasize about sexual encounters with hyper successful men, and in modern times they are free to act out this fantasy without having to worry about whether the man will stick around or not. We as a society have outgrown the “ideal” from ancient times of a 1-1 male to female pairing where sex is practically guaranteed to anyone willing to commit to a relationship. Now, your mere willingness to commit to a woman does not make you worthy of sex. Society is now embracing the fact that not all men are meant for sex.

For many men, this is a tough pill to swallow: that just being a good guy with a decent personality does not mean that you are entitled to sex. It can feel quite frustrating when you see women in public dressed in a way that flaunts their sexuality, but you also know that this display is not for you. Furthermore, any attempt you make at flirting or trying to make a sexual advance on these women is met with extreme social blowback. Who do you think you are? Trying to “pick up women?” They’re not just sexual objects for your disgusting pleasure, perv. Learn to respect people’s boundaries. Women should be able to exist in public life without getting harassed by lonely horny men who think their provocative outfits are an invitation to disturb them. The toughest pill to swallow is the fact that yes, staring is harassment, and if you get caught making a woman uncomfortable with your inappropriate glances, you deserve to get kicked out of whatever place you’re in, and you likely will.

“But she’s asking for it, right? With what she’s wearing, she’s advertising her sexuality on purpose! How am I supposed to completely avoid looking at her or getting an erection/orgasm?”

By learning to be an ally to women instead of a misogynist. Learn to have empathy. Does she want some creep approaching her and asking if she’s single? Or would she rather you keep your head down and mind your business? Yes, in modern times there are lots of beautiful women showing a lot of skin in public. You must learn to control yourself around them. If that’s too much for you to manage, you don’t belong in public at all.

“But then how am I supposed to meet a woman? When I approach them in public, it’s like they can smell the virginity on me, and they always reject me. And I can’t secure any dates online either. What am I supposed to do? Just respect their decision to reject me and stop creeping them out with my unwanted advances?”

Exactly. We aren’t living in the 1900’s anymore. Just being a nice, respectful guy doesn’t give you the right to sex. The men who get all the sex have been doing so since high school. They have very large social circles, which function almost like a funnel that brings them more women to fuck, thereby increasing the scope of their social circle even further. They have social media accounts that illustrate their social dominance. After all, it’s 2024 and one of the main ways people meet their hookup partners nowadays is through Instagram DM’s or dating apps. There certainly is a positive feedback loop causing the male social elites to have sex with more and more women, whereas for a male virgin, one reason women avoid him is specifically due to his lack of experience, thus perpetuating his sexlessness.

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#beta boi #beta virgin #beta bitch #beta captions #virgin humiliation #pathetic loser #loser humiliation #virgin loser

[spotlightstudios]

After being caught by mortals, Ichor was desperate. He'd been stolen away from Emil and his family, and couldn't do a single thing about it. He'd been revealed to his kingdom and his people for the monster he was. For the God he was.

He was a creature, and he'd been caged by enemy soldiers.

Already half-way across the continent, he'd been locked away and cut off from all communications. The other gods. The world. He knew nothing.

And along with that, his captors were testing the limits of his godly power. He could be injured and damaged, tortured, without any sort of repercussions to his captors. He was amassing scars and losing himself.

Then when he was finally brought back into the daylight, things had changed. The mortals looked different, a lot of time had passed, their weapons were more powerful and deadly.

They held him in place, and he was forced to watch as they snuffed out minor gods, one by one. He must've been locked up for ages, seeing how many gods had been captured in his wake. He couldn't help them, couldn't even save himself.

The roar of the crowd, the cheers of the mortals. It was disgusting. Yet he couldn't feel rage. The same reason he loved the mortals was the one that brought him here. Their capability was endless, each one unique and powerful. They could change. Unlike the gods. All he felt was sorrow.

So when all was done, they dragged him off and loaded him into a cart. He didn't even bother fighting back when they dragged him out into the sunlight and dropped him on the grass.

It wasn't until he was brought back into a dark area that he brought himself back and realized that he was with the other gods. His brother was holding him, trying to get through to him. Chance was there, a warm comforting hand on his back.

He could only cling to his brother and shudder.

It was only a few days later that he'd learn of the Gods losing the war and being sealed away in the very catacombs their followers once used to take refuge. Now few worshippers remained, and the gods were nearly powerless. Ichor most of all.

#light's spot #tw death #oc #Ichor #Catacombtale #this is one of my favorite parts of his story #cuz it's right after he's finally been content with Emil for years. #they have a family and a stable life #he doesn't have to deal with godly politics as long as he keeps up with his duties #then he's taken #he never gets to come back #he never sees Emil or his children again #they know he's been caught and horrible things are happening #but he doesn't know #for a long time he believes they blame him for bring too weak to escape #to protect them #then when he gets returned to tye other gods #they were all hiding away on the mountain this whole time #they existed in a perfect bubble still #and it's only a minor disturbance to their long existence #but for Ichor it changed everything #and the other gods don't understand his change #only Reward and Chance understand #Reward because they're brothers and he knows Ichor too well #and Chance because he lost Judgement who was the most important person in *his* life #it's just so much fun to dissect!!!

[shiny-jr]

Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.

- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: König.

- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.

- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.

. . .

You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.

What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.

It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.

You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.

To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"

Yes. "What???"

"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"

Oh.

After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.

"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"

"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."

Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.

Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.

That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"

"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.

The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.

It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.

So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.

You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"

"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."

Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.

Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.

It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?

Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.

Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.

Oh god.

There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.

Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.

"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"

#konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig modern warfare #cod konig #konig x you #konig x y/n #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig x y/n

[onyourowndaisymae]

when lucifer falls in love

content + warnings: minor s1 of og! game spoilers, discussions of death, nightmares, hurt/comfort, lucifer's regretting the past again // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.2k

it’s the dead of the devildom night. not a single creature dares to stir in the house of lamentation, to interrupt the heavy darkness that lays claim to the kingdom like a siege, like a thick blanket over a fragile child. the night is oppressive at this hour. hell freezes over each night– sizzling temperatures plummet to biting cold, a violent swing that dares all to be prepared for any weather. 

it starts as uncharacteristic shuffles. tossing and turning at an hour he should usually be asleep, shifting from one side to another without waking. sweat peppers his hairline. his fingers twitch once, twice, eyelids fluttering restlessly. something’s going wrong. where there should be peace, there’s chaos, his dreams infested with something dark and unpleasant. 

lucifer morningstar wakes violently with a nightmare. 

his body jerks in panic, rising to a seated position before he can even fathom what’s going on. adrenaline floods his veins. fear grips him hard, and his labored breathing is the only sound that fills his senses for several long moments. 

memories swirl together at the top of his consciousness, a glossy oil slick of tangible emotion and thought. 

the great celestial war. bloodshed. the violent division of his family, of heaven itself, at the folly of his own pride. he can feel lilith’s body limp in his arms, chest rising with strained effort, her own blood soiling the angelic robes she once wore. she was beautiful. so innocent and pure. her only folly was falling victim to a love that should have never existed. a love he should have stopped earlier on, should have reigned in before things continued to deteriorate. his fault. it’s his fault that everything went down the way it did. 

the sound of your breathing finally catches his attention when his own begins to steady out. you’re fast asleep next to him– it’s a nice indication that he was able to hold in the cry that burned his throat as to not disturb your peaceful slumber. humans need their rest, after all. 

lucifer slips from his spot in his bed next to you. the bed shifts silently like a willing accomplice, letting his exit go unnoticed. a quick glance over his shoulder– you’re still unconscious, blissfully unaware of his departure– and he stumbles out into his office. 

he flicks his wrist haphazardly and the fireplace sparks to life. tired feet carry him to a nearby chair and he slumps, defeated into the cushions. 

in the dead of night, when he’s alone, his mind wanders to his mistakes. some nights, like tonight, they creep into his dreams– regret, uncertainty, moments of tranquility ruined by the stormcloud of war creeping into the foreground. was he wrong to fight against his Father? did his pride, his actions– have his siblings all been damned in ways they wouldn’t have had he discouraged them from following him? if he had stopped lilith from falling in love with that human in the first place, would his brothers be happier? would lilith still be alive?

that’s the thing about hindsight. he doesn’t know what the best decision was. in another life, maybe lilith lived– but he’ll never know. 

“lucifer?”

his name is garbled and groggy as it falls from your lips. he’s surprised to see you in the doorway– were you not asleep just a few minutes ago?

“yes, my love?”

“what are you doing up? i–” a yawn interrupts you, and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. “-- i missed you.”

an awkward lump settles in his throat. he didn’t realize that you’d noticed his absence. your expression shifts from exhaustion to concern, rubbing your eyes with your fingertips to adjust to the light. 

“i– couldn’t sleep.” he rasps the lie with ease. he doesn’t have the willpower to explain what was really going through his mind.

your bare feet pad quietly across the hardwood floors, steady and lethargic, as you make your way to his side. he watches each step carefully. you still next to him and press a soft, warm kiss to his forehead. 

you’re sweet. that’s the first thing he thinks when your lips find his skin, now tacky from cooling sweat as he reels in his own panic. it’s hard to be so upset when he’s next to you. your hands find the sides of his face and cradle him oh-so-delicately, like too rough a touch will make him scurry off into the darkness. 

“do you want to talk about it?”

he shakes his head. 

“alright,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head and taking a step back. your fingers linger on the side of his face a moment longer before they fall to your sides. “just– don’t stay up too late, alright?”

he nods, watching you shuffle off to the bedroom once again. his heart beats rapidly in his chest from the lingering panic, but it starts to calm as his thoughts wander to you. 

when did disdain become affection? when did suspicious looks turn into forehead kisses? lucifer couldn’t remember a turning point when you became so important to him– it was a slow march with his eyes closed, blind to the storm raging inside of him until push came to shove and his lips met yours. 

now you spend your nights in his bed. he can hardly lull himself to sleep when you’re not there. funny how things change. 

when the panic finally settles, he creeps back into his bedroom. the rhythmic lull of your breathing reassures him. there is no danger here. no death, no war, no mistakes. only you. 

his movements are hesitant as he crawls back in bed. it’s an attempt not to wake you– a failed one. you immediately reach for him in a state of half-consciousness, tucking yourself into his chest as he settles back in his original spot. your hands are smooth against his broad chest, lazily brushing across the skin before winding around him. 

“i got you, luci.”

four little words. barely audible amongst the shuffling of changing positions, but enough to make his heart pound against his ribcage. four little words conveying the depths of the care you have for the demon in your arms. 

oh, how lucifer morningstar loves you so. 

in the darkness of his bedroom, the flush of his cheeks does not announce its presence– yet it’s there, warm and fuzzy like the feeling in his chest, reminding the avatar of pride that he is nothing more than a man. a simple man. he loves his family and his home, the life he lives. and you. by god, he loves you so much that it makes his breath catch in his throat and his fingers tremble against your back. his arms wind around you to return the affection in any way he can. 

he’ll wait to tell you he loves you another day– soon, surely, so he won’t have to carry this burden for long– when he can muster up all the romance and passion you deserve. would dinner be a more appropriate place, or would that be seen as too gaudy? maybe he’ll find a time at him, when the two of you are alone in each other’s arms again. lucifer will iron out the details with time. 

sleep comes for him rather quickly. somewhere in your arms his mind is finally laid to rest, and he drifts off to sleep with the quiet comfort of knowing tomorrow will be a better day.

the nightmares do not return again tonight.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset // @katerinaval // @lurkingsnails // @chirikoheina // @all-mights-wife // @notareum // @ollieoven

#this went through several rewrites... idk how i feel about this one #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #otome #obey me imagines

[hxltic]

i had no idea this was sent in so this could be super late but hi ofc!! Also tysm i love you <33 also i’m sorry i didn’t know how rough you wanted it👩🏾‍🦯👩🏾‍🦯

𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒. 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑨 𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑹Ō

part one | part two

Genre: smut

Warning: heavy degradation, handjob, blowjob, facefuck, public bathroom sex, spit kink, brother’s best friend

He’s one of your brother’s dumb friends (the actual dumbest—in your opinion), and no matter how much you locked yourself in your room to be excluded from whatever activities prolonged out there, the inevitable feeling of hunger is sadly inescapable.

Following a creak from your door, right before another from the stairs, you cascaded down into the living room. Openly, the kitchen stood nice and bright, accompanied by snacks aligned on the island that held several filled lanyards with attached keys.

Arriving down the stairs in your red pajama set was the same thing as yelling and notifying everyone you were there. Heads turned. You didn’t take the time to count, frankly because it felt like crawling into the lion’s den and now needing an escape. You should’ve known there were people coming by the way everything was taken out of the pantry and neatly placed anyway. Your hair was frazzled from rolling around trying to get comfortable; your reddened face was visual proof of the relentless makeup you scrubbed off; the several necklaces you wore and forgot to remove were now entangled in each other—it would be just your luck for a bunch of boys to be over. Not ones you were trying to impress, persay, but the last ones that needed to see you in your tired hobo fit.

“Whatever you’re about to say—don’t. don’t be a dickhead,” you call out. You were getting this snack and going back upstairs, negating anything that could be said to you from here and then with your course voice.

“You think so horribly of me, what’d I do?”

Suna’s sly tone carried across the room to bring you to a stop. It was obvious was him; when was it ever not him? The only other people were Kita and the twins, but they were preoccupied.

“Exist, essentially,” you rebut, and after selecting a bag of skittles and a cosmic brownie, you reach over and grab the keys farthest to the left before your leave; staring him dead in the low, mustard, dumb eyes.

The keys were his. You recall because a few years back, you plucked off a single tag or attachment every time he came over. It took a bit for him to notice how weightless it had become and demand for all of them back, so you made him beg after assigning him as your personal chef for the day.

Which you weren’t a horrible person, so you kept them tucked away in a box on your dresser.

He examined the action to be reminded of this, but let you go nonetheless. He’d be damned if he let you see his smugness falter.

“Your hair looks great,” he taunted, with his long arms spread across the couch lazily. Your brother giggled from afar. To the back of your head, slim eyes scanned you in a judgmental manner—the same one you usually glanced at him with. The steps you took became bouncy and joyous.

Then you remembered how your hair actually looked, so you trudged up the stairs and grumbled, “jump off a cliff.”

You hadn’t completely decided what you’d do with the keys, but you’d most likely hold them hostage in your room somewhere. The plan was just to be a minor inconvenience.

And this was effective for the moment being—rattling Suna with the flashbacks—but sleep weighed your eyelids and, obviously, the door was locked.

. .

3:48 A.M.

A continuous knock drives you out of your slumber. Grumbling, your sleeping feet swing over the side of the bed and you rip the comforter from your body. The pitter-patter of steps notify the dark-haired man of his disturbances, guiding one side of his lip to lift and his toned arms to cross as he patiently awaits you.

Your tongue swipes at your dehydrated lips and your fingers correct your messy braided hair before opening the door. Suna languidly leans on the parallel hallway wall, sending you a look that it is too damn early in the morning to acknowledge. With the little strength in your freshly awaken arm, you throw the door closed to turn your back and close your eyes for the journey back to bed.

Suna’s sneaker sat where the door should’ve connected to the wall. He already knew the best of your unkind tendencies. The corner of the door swept into his large hand following its ricochet and he pulled you by the forearm, twisting your body to him. Your face slammed into his chest due to your lack of stabilization. You got a whiff of his faint cologne.

He didn’t even apologize. Fuckface.

“Jesus. No need to be so rough,” you croaked.

“It can get a lot worse than that,” a genuine smiley grin spread onto his features as he tilted his head and inspected down the hall for anyone that could hear him. Of course you hadn’t caught this in your state, not even processing the implied indecencies. “Maybe you shouldn’t close the door on me.”

He pressed the pad of his finger to your forehead and presses you back off him.

“Why are you here? Like for real.” Nothing was funny and you need to go to sleep. You have work in the morning. If you were awake enough, you would’ve taken the forehead poke as disrespect.

He treads the hand not on the door through his dark hair (which somehow returned to the exact same position it held before) and shrugged, “I can’t get home.”

“So?”

“You have my keys.”

Oh shit. You did bring this upon yourself though.

You sigh and rub the side of your face drowsily, “I’ll get them in the morning. I literally don’t even remember where I put them to be honest.”

As bad as he wants to be irritated, he can’t. The silhouette of your figure in front of him was something else. This was the day that he learned you don’t wear bottoms to sleep, but wear them just to keep some dignity whenever you show your face downstairs. In other words, you only put them on to eventually come back into your natural habitat and kick them off.

Your half naked body stood swaying in the doorway, reflecting into Suna’s yellowish eyes. Had he forgotten to respond? His gaze flickers before focusing strictly on yours. “Let me come look.”

“No, I’ll get them in the morning.”

“I’m coming in.”

Not very carefully, he shuffles past you, then your bed, unaffected by your futile efforts to groan and push him away. He had a sleeper build, unfortunately. As he rummaged through your drawers, he comments, “This would be a lot easier on the both of us if you just told me where they were.”

“Never. Get out! I just cleaned up!” You whisper yell into the morning. It seemed to be a sight you could only watch with the weight difference, but you had to try. Your fingertips connect around his small waist so you could push backwards off your heels. Whatever you could muster has done nothing but prove your weakness to him; he continued side-stepping drawer to drawer and smirking at your actions. That stupid expression only made your blood boil. You retreat.

Inevitably, he found your underwear drawer. Nobody wishes for that on themselves, although the way he held aside one of your thongs on a single finger as if it were a hanger, just to re-fold it before neatly placing it back where it once was; even the darkness couldn’t hide your tightening chest and darting eyes trailing everywhere but him.

The crickets were wide awake, and now so were you.

Your spread fingers modify into fists, you plant your feet. You come back full force to grab him. His head dips back in pure laughter while he attempts to be mindful of the time of night, even when his fair hands creep to yours and slowly pry you away from how you were linked around his stomach. Finger after finger.

The carpet floor, however, was not on your side, and your heels suddenly slide under you, between his feet. It also didn’t help that with Suna’s build there wasn’t much to grab onto: his torso is smooth, slim, but hard. Anytime you reached for grip, you just felt the curve of his muscles under the dark blue cotton t-shirt.

The last finger came undone, and you hadn’t realized why he’d swiftly attached himself to your wrists until you immediately saw yourself tumbling backwards, landing with a hard thump loud enough to wake up everybody in the house. The tightness of his grip confuzzled you.

It was one of protection and instinct rather than anything else. He didn’t seem concerned (as foretold by the small hints of laughter emitting from somewhere upwards), so you wondered why he still held your wrists with his arms backwards and you flat on your ass. He gathers himself, lets go, and turns to face you.

Trying to soothe the pounding muscles, you roll on your right and rub the area cautiously. It was most likely redder than your cheeks.

“You know, to be holding me so tight, you didn’t really lessen the fall,” you scowl.

“No, but you also didn’t crack your head open,” he retorts. You just glance at him and that villainous expression once more, one that was plastered on his tilting head in fake pity. You grunt and roll your eyes.

After declining help from your literal downfall, you push off your right hand to get up. Your nose meets a structure. Wood.

It was the wooden footing of your bed, so close that had your head tilted back any further with the force of the fall—it would be a concussion, no doubt.

You pause and return your focus to him. He smirks down at you.

. .

The next dull morning, you groan obnoxiously as you walk in so the shirtless man currently in your kitchen would take the hint and leave. His keys landed with a mix of a thump and a clink on the soft couch from your toss. He curls the island corner holding a bowl of cereal, sweats hanging loose on his hips; however, he just leans and eats, watching your moves silently.

Your uniform was definitely one to strike a customer: leather shorts and short sleeve top perfect for showing off cleavage. You slipped a jacket on and headed out the door. Before you left, it was necessary to shout “When I get back, you better be gone!”

He just rolled his eyes. You weren’t there to watch it, but you knew.

. .

“Of course, I’ll get that right out for you,” you shoot the fakest smile to the middle-aged man leaning probably too close just to be giving an order. Your sneakers spin on the hardwood floors of the food bar and your hand slips the ticket order into the side pocket of your waitress pouch. Audiences of whatever sport on the tvs and bellowing men ring through your ears until you get called by a coworker of yours. The day had been long, and quite frankly, you were just tired and couldn’t give a damn what she had to say.

“Hey, can you take over that table for me?” Dammit.

She curves her soft hands over one of yours she harshly tugged from your side. With pleading eyes so heavy it looked as if she would cry, she continues, “But I also would like you to give this to one of them. The one with the dark hair.”

She retrieves a small, crumpled paper from her unbuckled pouch lying folded on the waitress stand. You peek at it as she forces it into your hand. You glance at her again.

“A lot of people have dark hair, which is it?”

Her head shakes frantically in reassurance, “You’ll just know. Table 17, corner booth. Just please slip it in the check or something like that.”

An unintentional sigh hinting at your annoyance hangs in the air, but it isn’t like you can stop her from leaving, whether you were just about to clock out or not. Apology is displayed on her face nonetheless, so you grant a soft smile and make your way there after her continuous stream of thank you’s.

You wish you hadn’t.

You walk up to the booth occupied by faces that couldn’t get any more familiar, one being the someone you couldn’t stand, the other that was even more intolerable, and Aran. You liked Aran. He was cool.

Suna has nothing but innocent deceit on his face. After looking around for any employees, or rather managers, you drop next to him on the left side.

“What are you doing here!?” You mainly scolded him, but you looked around at the other two as well. Once again, not really Aran; he was never informed of your workplace and it was most likely your brother’s idea.

“We just came to eat. Yknow, like regular customers.” Your head snapped to your own blood, feeding into the torment of what you were experiencing right now. Was this what bullying felt like?

“Now you can eat with us though, it’s the end of your shift anyway.” Suna adds. That wasn’t the case due to circumstances. As long as you have this uniform on and as long as they were a table in the restaurant with no waitress, you weren’t off duty.

“That’s not how that works.”

“Sit here for a bit. Customer’s request.” The ravenette mouths. You doubt that would work either because interaction with customers were limited. Honestly, with how you were dressed, you loved the rule. Suna’s back lifts when his arms reach out around you, creating as much space as possible to remove his jacket. The man lays it out over your lap, covering the pouch and any signification you were on duty with the exception of the shirt, but you leave and walk in with it on so it didn’t matter.

All things aside, you give in, everything goes well. Catching up with Aran was a joy. Ascertaining that Suna took a shower in your home, just to put on another pair of sweats your brother leant him and the same t-shirt he’d just washed overnight, he did not listen to you and did not leave. You wonder if he ran through your room again just for fun.

You ignored the other two most of the time. Having to see your brother every day; there was no reason to converse with him, but the other took this personally. Extremely personal.

He kept doing things to get your attention. When the person taking your shift came as waiter, he ordered for you just as the words began to spill from your mouth. Only having four people in a wall booth, he had more than enough room to manspread—so he left you nothing but a sliver of space. You tried to scoot him over manually, but of course, it didn’t work. You place both hands on his thigh in an attempt once more.

Having not learned your lesson previously, you’re going to try again. Your fingernails dig into his skin so it would hurt (but he didn’t flinch); you push with all your might and he continued casual conversation. Shoving again, you watch as his eyes flicker in shock, frantically glance to you, and revert as if nothing happened, even though a stern hand held the top of your left still. He fake laughs it off to the rest of the table. So fake, you hadn’t realized it was.

A large, pale hand squeezes yours in its spot, prohibiting movement. Was he ticklish? You force your hand back and forth against his thigh, your hands being unable to lift but having no choice but to move with his flesh, and he squeezes even harder. This hand was closest to his torso, located on the inside of the very top thigh area. So high it was basically his hip.

You hadn’t realized your nails curled right into his groin. Unaware of what was actually happening, you continued for the sole reason it was bothering him in some type of way, resulting in warning looks being shot to you with his tired eyes. Ones you ignored. It hurt because of the coffin shape, Suna had to admit, but it didn’t deflect the blood rushing there.

Finally, his leg closed, but he took a tight hold of your guilty hand and pulled you roughly. He mumbles sternly with his mouth to your ear, “Sit still, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You just laughed in his face and put both hands to your chin, elbows stationed on the rectangular table. You’d do it again when he wasn’t looking.

He’d caught you less than halfway there the second time, but third is the charm. His guard was let down.

The air was thin and light with loose conversation. Aran’s sister was fine and your brother was thinking of applying for another scholarship. When everything seemed to have died down, french tips clanked against the counter impatiently and your left hand dove under the table once more.

In your peripheral the male visibly stuttered, hips lifting for adjustment and eyes darting to you nervously. This time they hadn’t left and it took everything in you not to acknowledge the mustard gaze. To make it worse, the squeeze of your hand allowed an audible grunt to fall from his lips. His eyes fell as well so your friends noticed, questioned it, but the false voice you’ve fabricated over years of customer service was just too believable.

You squeeze again, the muscle unknowingly growing under your hand. He became fidgety and his breath slightly irregular. Turning your head to glance at him, he locates your eyes immediately—the eyes usually low and apathetic—were yelling to stop. A mischievous giggle worsens the situation, causing his eyes to slim down angrily. He’d prove to you why.

He takes a hold of your wrist and stretches your fingers using his own, sliding them between. He adjusts in his seat again before flattening your hand around his print, using his other hand to cover his mouth casually as he leaned forward on the table. His digits wrap around yours, causing you to wrap around him.

He gave you a preview. With no underwear to hide any inch of it under the fabric, you (he) basically caressed from the base all the way to the tip, the outline becoming more prominent and his body shifting under your touch. You look at him in disbelief at: what he did, what you unconsciously did, or in all his, what—a solid 8 inches at least? If you had to guess?

The idea was to scare you off, but it did quite the opposite. Whenever your hand was released, much to his surprise, it just returned with the same motion tenfold. Luckily, nobody else could hear the sudden deep groan over the laughing people, and the way his back landed with a puff on the soft booth seat only looked somewhat out of the norm. His face was flooding cherry red no matter how bad he didn’t want it to. Both his hands came up to run over his eyes, forehead, and cheeks. Now he braces himself on the seat, gazing down at the sight of your pretty fingers and nails dragging up and down the entirety of him through his pants. The friction was indescribable.

He held watch as you dipped past them.

You knew you’d do anything to get under his skin, but not like this. Of course people found Suna attractive, light athletic build with killer thighs and small eyes, only to be complimented by his dark brown locks and good style (when he cared). So when Nali passed the note to you to give to someone, you could assume it was her number. It’s somewhere lost on the table now. Primarily because if something did happen, coming downstairs to more than two people you can’t stand would send you over the edge and he doesn’t need anyone boosting his ego more than it already is.

But now as you’re stroking him slowly, only the movement of cloth from your hand’s action could describe what was going on. Apart from the man’s darkening gaze too. He was beaming fire into your neck, just as you were chatting away.

“Are you okay?” Your brother is worried for his friend who was flashing a sickly face hinted with anger. The plump of your lip met white teeth, a reddened spot building up as you tried your best to prevent any unwanted facial expression or laughter. Aran became intrigued as well.

Sunarin comes forward to statue both elbows on the table, but without saying a word. Consequently, the question hung low in the air, creating palpable tension at the silence and his direct, unmoving eyes. You ignore it.

Instead, you ring two fingers and ride over the heightened band right where the tip begins. You tighten your hand. Your fingers close around it and meet at the peak, collecting pre-cum and the last of Suna’s patience. The job is done and your hand retreats.

“Yeah.” Breathlessly but barely noticeable, he continues, “Your sister’s just a pain in the ass.”

You dramatically gasp and keep the façade going, just to eventually let him out as per his request for the bathroom. The two boys laugh over their food as Aran receives almost every bad deed you’ve done to his former teammate, just giving him an idea on how you two operate, though you announce your leave to completely end shift and take the pouch off. Once you reach the back and remove any resemblance of your relationship to the restaurant, you reach the one person bathroom. It was a fairly good size.

“Hello? Sunarin?”

©️hxltic

#haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu smut #god i want him so bad #haikyuu suna #suna haikyuu #suna x you #suna rintaro #suna x reader #rintarou suna #hq suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna headcanons #suna rintarō #suna smut #suna rintaro fic #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x you #rintarou x reader #suna rintaro oneshot #suna rintaro headcanons #suna x y/n #no use of y/n #suna imagines

[gardens-light]

On The Run

After discovering Optimus Prime in your family barn, normality seemed to briefly throw itself out of the window.

The leader of the Autobots couldn't be anymore in your debt. For as you spend every waking moment putting him back together- repairing and replacing parts of him to the best of your skill.

Admittedly, he almost gave up on humanity. As time seemed to prove itself that they would always look after their own, and protect what's theirs- no matter the cost. Betrayal unleashed it's ugly face to him multiple times, slapping him with the reality that Earth may not be safe for him and his Autobots anymore.

Yet here you stand before him. A warm smile with an aura of glittering hope, burning away his darkness of doubt. It was as though the Universe itself spoke through you, giving Optimus a warmth he thought was forgotten long ago. But he cannot help wander... how far could his trust in you really go...?

Content: Mild coarse language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Minor spoilers.) Mention of weaponry. Reader insert.

Word count- 2,800k

Sparkmate Series: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Don't move like that."

Your hands pressed against Optimus' chest plate as you stood upon the scaffolding.

"The welds are still fresh. Transforming back into your truck form could ruin them- it would be like undoing stitches on a wound."

His Spark burst like small firecrackers as your delicate fingers brushed across his chassis. Jolts of electricity rush through his wires, as your touch run up towards his neck. Heat swept through his metal plates, as you reached up towards his cheek.

"You still need to heal, Big Guy. You of all people should know these things takes time..."

Optimus' optics snapped open. Your touch still lingering upon his chest plate like a ghostly inferred sensation. The memory of the previous hours of the day, playing on repeat within his processors. The haze of sleepiness soon rubbed off, his surroundings becoming faminular again.

His optics scanned the barn, the nocturnal wildlife outside disturbed the still night air. Your small whimpers of your voice caught his attention, Optimus' spark gave a warming glow as he looked down at you.

Engine grease staining your hands, as you curled up upon an old couch. Sleeping peacefully on your side, resting your head in the crook of your elbow.

Optimus' servo touched his lower abdomen, his digits feeling a fresh weld stretching up his side. A gentle sigh left him.

She must of pulled another all nighter.

Grabbing a blanket with his free servo, Optimus carefully draped it along your body. Allowing the tip of his index finger to trace your curves.

His Spark hummed, filling his chest with gentle warmth. Optimus quickly pulled away from you, placing his servo over his Spark.

No. Closing his optics, a heavy sigh left his mouth. Shaking his helm before the thought could permanently fixed itself to his processors. Nothing like that exists. It's just a romanticide idea...

---

"Y/N!" Tessa's voice shouted from the porch.

Stopping mid-weld upon Optimus' side. Gently tapping on the metal sheet, signaling for the Autobot to hold it in place while you pulled down your goggles around your neck.

"I don't like the tone of her voice..." you looked up at Optimus. He saw the worry shining in your eyes. "Hold that tightly, it's only half welded. Hide in there."

His optics followed your pointed finger, "go underneath the floorboards. It might be cramped for you, but it keep you be safe. Don't come out till I say."

Quickly leaving the barn and closing the door behind you. Swallowing down your nerves, as the sight of multiple black cars parked all across the gravel driveway and front lawn. Followed by your dad's truck.

"Oh no..."

A helicopter hovered a few meters away from the house. Disturbing the still air. As soon as the black vehicles parked, multiple heavy armoured individuals got out and scouted the farm.

A man wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses approached you, as your dad came to your side.

"Sweetie..?"

"I donno, Dad-"

"Mr Cade Yeager, my name is James Savoy. I'm a federal agent." Savoy took a look around the property. "My men and I are trying to track down an abandoned truck."

You watched one of the men walk past Tessa. Her eyes staring something in her hands, her fingers playing with the object. You saw her adjusting her breath to a calm rhythm, before looking up in your direction.

"It's a nice spread you've got here." Your attention turned back to Savoy. "Too bad she's up for sale."

"Thanks, and she's not." Cade boldly spoke. "And do you mean that truck?" he pointed to an vintage ute covered in rust, the grass and flowers started to reclaim it for many years now.

"Afraid not... y'know Mr Yeager. We received a call from someone whom is concerned about this truck. That wasn't you?"

You briefly glanced daggers to Tessa's direction. She quickly shook her head rapidly, using her index finger to draw a cross over her heart.

"The only thing I'm concerned about is you being on my property without permission."

Savoy scoffed at your dad's words.

"You know, there's a rule about people messing with people from Texas-"

"And we don't know what truck you're talking about."

Savoy took a step towards you, taking off his sunglasses allowing his narrowed stare to burn into your eyes. "The kind that cost American lives!... Ma'am..."

Savoy studied your firm expression before turning back to his men, "search the property!"

"What? What you mean 'search the property'? You don't have a warrant!" Cade protested.

Savoy glared at him, stepping into Cade's personal space. "My face is my warrant"

You swallowed nervously, trying to keep steady shallow breaths as you watched the men move throughout the farm. Roaming into the house and approaching the barn. Voices scratched over their radios, as the buzz of drones flew above.

Cade turned and looked at you, "what is going on Y/N?-"

"I don't know, Dad..."

His brown eyes studied you, "you sure?... I'm happy to vouch for you but I need to know what it is."

You hesitated before speaking, " I. Don't. Know..."

---

"The fuck is all this junk?"

"A hoarder's yard. That's what."

Optimus looked up at the floorboards, hearing voices and footsteps of the agents entering the barn. Trying to lower himself further down in the cramped floor space, his face wincing in pain as the half welded sheet dug into his thighs. Automatically covering it up with his servo.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

A groan escaped from an agent's lips. His footsteps retreating back to the barn doors, "there's no signs. We've got nothing."

Optimus rested his helm against the dirt wall.

"Sir! We have a live armed missile in the trash!"

The Autobot's wide optics quickly glanced up back up.

Oh no... Y/N!!

---

"Shit..." you hissed under your breath. Feeling Cade's questioning daggers immediately turning your way.

"I-I thought it was a dud." You lowly admitted. Hands clenched into fists.

Savoy's glaze switched between you and Cade.

"Look! Okay, yes. Yes, I found a truck. All right!" you admitted.

Tessa kept shaking her head. Cade leaned towards you, muttering your name.

"I towed it back for the parts, and left it here on the driveway last night. This morning it was gone." You gazed at Savoy. "When? Where? I don't know- I swear to God. That's as much as I know about him!"

You tried to approach Tessa. Eyes staring at the ground, Cade's voice shouted questions at you as he followed. But Savoy grabbed your arm.

"Ma'am-"

"What?-"

"You just said 'him'." Savoy smiled as your terrified expression told him everything. "Take them down!"

Your heart jumped into your throat. Fear running up your spine, as the agents forcefully grabbed Cade and Tessa, throwing them down against the grass.

"They don't know about the truck!" you protested. "I know! I know about it! Please, let them go!"

Savoy grabbed your jaw, forcefully making you look at him. "What kind of woman betrays her flesh-and-blood brethren, for some alien metal?"

"He's more human than you ever be!"

He groaned, wiping your spit away from his face. Savoy's fist made contact with your face, two agents restrained you by the arms holding you up. As Savoy grabbed your jaw again.

Clicking his fingers, the agents restraining Cade and Tessa pulled out their weapons. Clocking the gun and removing the safety.

"You'd kill my family?!-"

"If I have to. You've got ten seconds to tell me where the truck is."

Cade fought against the agent whom knelt against his back. "Don't you fucking dare touch my daughters! Hurt them and I'll kill you!"

Tears ran down Tessa's face as she yelled out for you and Cade. The sound of a gunshot made you flinch.

"Next one will go through your father's head." Savoy warned. "Now, the truck-"

"I've told you everything I know!" you protested. "He was here, and now he's gone! That's all I swear!"

---

"I'm telling you the truth!" your voice cried. Hearing the pain in your tone made Optimus' Spark weep. "He's not here! I swear! He's not here!"

"Tell your men to back off! Don't you dare fucking shoot my daughters!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Please!"

The cries from you and your family wurld around Optimus' head. Hearing Savoy countdown from ten, as he continued yelling his demands at you.

Optimus withdraw his cannon from his back plates. Clocking it, allowing the weapon to light up and wurl. Allowing his face guard to untuck from his faceplate and cover his mouth.

Let's roll!

Erupting from underground, Optimus opened fire at his enemies. Blowing them out of the way, and reducing the barn to splinters.

"Here I am!" his machical voice roared, standing at his full height. Allowing all to see him.

His Spark pulsating fast as his optics laid on you. Rage filled him as he changed the output of his cannon, firing non-lethal EMP's in your direction.

"Stay away from her!"

You knelt to the ground, using your arms to shield you from the blast as the agents flew away from you. Tessa and Cade quickly rushed to your side.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cade yelled over the comotion.

"Run Y/N!" you looked up at Optimus as his cannon returned to deadly rounds. "They're going to kill you! Get out of here!"

Heeding the Autobot's warning, grabbing your sister and dad by their hands. Running towards the wheatfield on the left of the farm. Two missiles came from above. Turning your once family home into nothing but rubble.

Without warning the sound of a car engine roared in the air, quickly stopping at the bottom of the wheatfield. As a white Hatchback raced down the hill, and came skidding to a halt before the three of you.

The passenger door flew open. "Hurry! Get in the car!" the male driver yelled.

"Daddy! Y/N! Get in the car!" Tessa shouted. Shoving your dad into the front passenger seat, and trying to pull you into the back with her.

"What about Optimus? We can't just leave him!-"

"Stop protesting, Y/N! And get in the car!"

"Perimeter! Optimus moving your way!" Savoy yelled into the receiver of his radio.

Optimus looked ahead. Breathing a little easier, once his scanners assured him you were at a safe distance. Seeing the Hatchback race down the road, a low groan escaped Optimus' mouth as he crouched down. Forcing his metal plates to shift, loud churning noises rumbled throughout his mechanical body, as he transformed back into a truck.

You and Tessa clung onto the roll cage for dear life, as the hatchback raced down the open fields.

"What's happening, baby? Who are these guys?" the male driver asked Tessa, looking at her reflection through the rearview mirror.

"It's the truck!" she yelled over the engine. "They want my sister's truck!-"

"Truck?! What truck?!" Cade looked at you over his shoulder. He turned to Tess, "who are 'they'?" his attention fell back onto the male driver. "Who are you? And who the hell are you calling, 'baby?'-"

Tessa and the driver paused.

"I know you heard me!-"

"He's Tessa's boyfriend!" you cried out.

Cade's eyes widened, "what?-"

"His name is Shane! I saw him leaving Tessa's room in his underwear!"

"What?!-"

Tessa punched your arm, "well Y/N brought home a Transformer!"

You punched her back. "If you're going to tell a secret. At least get it right! Optimus was already in the barn!"

"At least I tried to keep your secret!-"

"If we survive this. You two girls have a lot of explaining to do!" Cade shouted.

You and Tessa slouched back in the rear seats.

Shane bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Mr Yeager, this was not how I wanted us to meet ok?-"

"Introduction later!" Cade yelled. "Just shut up and drive the car!"

Two black cars appeared in Shane's rearview mirror. Putting the accelerator closer to the ground, the Hatchback raced through the neighboring paddocks.

"I'm going to try and lose them in the cornfield!" Shane spoke over the roaring engine, as he took a sharp right turn. Driving down a dirt road, kicking up dust and dirt behind him.

A scream left your mouth, as your wide-eyed gaze saw one of the black cars quickly emerging from the tall corn. "Watch out!-"

"Brace for impact!"

Heeding Shane's warning, you and Tessa grabbed hold of the handles above the passenger door. Reaching out for one another, as the car t-boned into the side of Shane.

Screams filled the car, as everyone tried to shield their eyes from the rain of glass. Forcing the Hatchback off the dirt track and into the tall field, Shane kept surprising control of the car. The vehicle swerved in and out of trees.

The speed chase continued onto the main road. Shane weaved in and out of oncoming traffic, effortlessly changing lanes and avoiding pedestrians. Other drivers bleeped their horns and flashed their headlights.

Tessa scrunched up her face, as the sound of crashing cars piled up behind as Shane drove through red lights. And sped through traffic.

Your heart beat hard against your ribcage. Anxiety and adrenaline raced through your veins. Closing your eyes and placing a hand over your stomach as Shane drifted around a corner.

"Great! Now they're firing at us!" Tessa said as bullets ricocheted off the Hatchback.

You and her quickly braced yourselves against the driver and front passenger seat.

"Man! I don't know how I'm driving so good!" Shane exclaimed with a smile. "It's like, today I've gone to a whole other level-"

"Road! Focus!" Cade shouted.

"Shane! Look out!" he drifted around another corner as Tessa's warning came to him.

Your stomach turned into a sickening knot, "I honestly don't know how long I can hold myself together-"

"Y/N! If you throw up on my jeans. I will never forgive you!"

You looked up at Tessa, giving her questioning eyes. "That's your concern right now?!-"

"Hang on!" Shane momentarily stopped the car. Skidding to the side, before putting his foot down on the pedal again and crashing through an empty cafe.

Exiting through the back alley and down an old, forgotten road.

"Lose them through the factory, Shane!"

"You got it, Babe!"

Racing around the empty car park of an abandoned factory. Swerving around corners and driving through large gaps in the building.

"I thought you knew how to drive this thing!" you shouted, as it appeared nothing Shane did was working in losing the tail chasers.

Optimus' Spark raced through his wires, as he drifted and turned through the factory. His scanners having a hard time keeping track of the little Hatchback. Metal plates shifted and groaned as he unleashed his full height, jumping from roof to roof of the factory in an attempt to keep up with you.

You quickly looked out the back window, as Optimus' voice called out for you. Your eyes widening as he rolled in the way of the black cars, causing them to slam into him and setting alight upon collision.

"Take them upstairs!" Tessa pointed from the backseat.

"We're gonna lose them on the fifth floor!" Shane agreed.

The knot in your stomach tightened as the Hatchback entered a multi-story car park. Your skin turned pale, bracing yourself against the back of your dad's seat, as the car drifted around corners and moved up the levels.

"Do that thing, Shane!"

"You know it-"

"What? What thing?" your panicky tone questioned.

"What we're about to do is gonna be kinda scary." Somehow Shane's tone didn't sound much of a warning, as he failed to hide the excitement in his tone.

Pressing the accelerator fully against the floor, Shane looked at Tessa through the rearview mirror. "Ready, Babe?"

"Got it" she said, leaning as far forward as she could. Grabbing onto the handbrake.

"Three. Two. One.. Pull!"

At Shane's command, Tessa pulled the handbrake as hard as she could. Causing the car to sharply stop, then turn right and continue racing towards a ramp that hung out of a window.

"No! No! No!" Cade cried.

The pit of your stomach lifted during the brief seconds of weightlessness. Until it dropped hard once gravity pulled you back down. A high pitch scream left your mouth, hands clutching into the back of Cade's seat, ripping the fabric. As you closed your eyes tightly.

By some miracle the Hatchback roughly landed on a ramp upon the ground. The two black cars behind you wasn't so lucky.

"You two girls are so grounded!" Cade shouted, as Shane drifted around one more corner.

Churning and clunking noises begun to erupt from the engine. The car finally came to an abrupt halt, as Shane slammed on the breaks.

Smoke begun to leak out of the hood.

"Shit! We gotta go!"

Shane and Cade quickly got out of the Hatchback. Optimus blared his horn, rolling up a few feet behind.

"Optimus!" you shouted as Cade helped you get out of the car.

The four of you ran towards the rusty truck. Quickly dodging the rain of bullets from above. Once safely inside, the Autobot sped out of the car park and raced towards the entrance to the highway.

#x reader #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime #autobot x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers fanfiction #transformers bayverse #optimus prime bayverse #optimus prime x you #fanfic writing #bayverse transformers #fanfiction #gardens light

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 19: Purpose

You and Ellie wait for Joel to come back from patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-18 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Light smut. Minor depiction of injury. Mild description of canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 9.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

May, 2012 

“You’ve been acting weird this trip.” 

It was a nice night, the air warm but not so warm that it made a fire unpleasant. The sky was clear and it was like every star that had ever sprung into existence was overhead, sparkling for you and you alone. 

Mark had brought an unreasonably good haul with him this trip. Enough batteries that you’d be supplied for years at the rate you used flashlights, several packs of guitar strings, salt, sugar, several bottles of rum and vodka, thread and scrap fabric. His packs were laden with hard to find goods and you weren’t sure if you bought his excuse that the settlement he’d been living with had stumbled upon a really good stash and he felt like he should share the wealth. It seemed like there was something else going on.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he shrugged. “Actin’ how I usually do.” 

“Sure,” you scoffed, sipping on some rum that you’d mixed with the pressed apple juice you’d made earlier that day. “Because you always go back and forth between fuckin’ me stupid and staring off into the distance.” 

You had to admit, there were some perks to being some of the last people on the planet. Things like not needing to worry about being disturbed if you wanted to fuck outside by a bonfire on a gorgeous night. You were wearing nothing but a button down and panties, sitting on a blanket, the skin between your thighs slick with your combined release. Mark had pulled his jeans back on but hadn’t bothered buttoning or zipping them, his boots still sitting off to the side. You had a feeling he’d be naked again before too long, apparently going for a new record for how many times he could fuck you in the span of a week. 

“Seriously though,” you frowned a little, watching him closely, his brown eyes sparkling in the firelight. “Are you OK?” 

“Just…” he sighed heavily, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees. “Going to miss you, is all.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you shrugged. “But there’s going to be some good shit to trade in about a month or so, think I’m going to get a really good round of greens this season…” 

“Can’t come back in a month,” he said, not looking at you, looking into the fire instead. You frowned. “I’m not sure when I can come back.” 

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean? Why not? I don’t…” 

“Shit’s changing,” he said. “At the settlement. A lot of big changes. Don’t think I’m going to be able to get away for very long and…” 

“I can come to you,” you cut him off, heart clenching at the thought of losing the only regular human contact you had now. The thought of losing Mark. “I know you always come here but…” 

“Won’t work,” he shook his head. “Not with… there’s going to be too much going on, wouldn’t be the right time. And come on, you really going to act like you’re going to leave your animals to fend for themselves or leave your gardens unattended when you’ll need to be out harvesting damn near daily to stock up for winter? We both know better than that.” 

“How long do you think…” 

“Six months at least,” he cut you off. “Maybe a year.” 

“A year?” You gaped at him. “You can’t be serious, you’re really going to…” 

“I’m serious,” he finally looked at you, a pained look on his face. “Trust me, it’s not… This isn’t something that I want, OK? This is something that I have to do. It’s the right thing to do, the only right thing to do. But I’ll come back to you when I can. As soon as I can, I’ll come back.” 

You looked into the fire now, trying not to cry. These few weeks a year with him were sometimes the only thing that kept you sane. The only thing that kept the fragile link you had to your humanity intact. And he was leaving you. 

“Yeah, well,” you almost spat it. “Maybe I’ll just pick up and fuckin’ move in the mean time. Been getting bored out here anyway…” 

“If that’s really what you want,” you could feel his eyes on you. “But… I really hope you don’t. I would… I think losing you might kill me. Not knowing what happened to you? Not knowing if you were safe and happy? That would kill me. I love…” 

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” you snapped, whipping your head around to look at him. “You wouldn’t just walk away for a fuckin’ year if you gave a fuck. Don’t act like I’m anything more to you than…” 

“You don’t get to decide what you are to me,” he snapped back, voice heated, his hand finding your face, fingers gripping your skin so tight it almost hurt. “Just trust me when I tell you there ain’t much that would keep me away from you, alright? This isn’t what I fuckin’ want. But it’s what I have to do so I’m doing it. And I’m asking that you still be here when I’m able to come back to you because all I want to do is fucking come back to you! So please, let me!” 

His lips crashed into yours before you could respond and you kissed him back, wet and angry, all teeth and tears as he ripped your panties down and all but shoved himself inside you, not bothering to take off his jeans this time. He fucked into you hard and fast and desperate, like if he used enough force he’d somehow make you believe him, make sure you stayed. 

After, you lay side by side, facing each other just inches apart, his fingers trailing gently through your hair.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” You asked, voice thick.

“I’ll send people who pass through your way,” he said. “You should have enough of what you can’t hunt or grow yourself for a while but you trade plenty outside of me, anyway, and I’ll make sure I send enough to make up the difference…” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you cut him off. 

He smiled. 

“I’ll make sure they’re your type.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly. He laughed a little and the two of you just looked at each other. You knew that, if he was telling you this now, after he’d already been here a few days, he was planning to go back soon. Maybe even the next day. Your heart ached - physically hurt - at the thought of him leaving, of losing him for so long. 

“This isn’t what I want,” he said softly, as though he were reading your mind. 

“Then don’t do it.” 

“I have to,” he said, his hand stilling, holding your face gently, as though you were something precious. “But I will come back to you. I promise. I’ll always keep coming back to you.” 

When you watched him ride away the next day, it was the last time you ever saw him. 

August, 2026

You’d never really been in this situation before. 

In all the years since the outbreak started, you’d never been the one stuck waiting for someone to come back from outside. You never knew for sure when Mark was coming back so you were never anxiously waiting for him to show up. The rest of the time, when someone was with you, you’d always been the one to go. You’d been the one who knew the area, been the one who was best equipped. At most, you’d go out together and be there when an infected attacked or some power hungry asshole took a shot at you. Hell, even a bear. It was the wilds of Wyoming, after all, it wasn’t only monsters of the human and inhuman kind you had to be concerned with, mother nature did her best to come out on top, too.  

But Joel being gone like this made you nervous. 

You weren’t sure if it was just because you weren’t used to him being gone, if you were just more comfortable having him close than anywhere else now, if there really was something wrong and you felt it somehow - even though that made no sense. 

Regardless of the reason, you were worried. It was hard to focus on anything. You couldn’t work with the horses that weren’t fully broke yet, they sensed it too easily and started trying to throw you. You found yourself just clenching your teeth a lot without truly realizing you were doing it, just suddenly aware that your jaw was sore before forcing yourself to relax. 

The second night Joel was gone, you were playing guitar at home and trying not to think about it. The closest thing you had to compare it to was the first few days Marisa was gone. When part of you thought she was going to change her mind and walk back in the door one evening as you sat by the firelight and grab you and kiss you and say she was back and she was going to stay. 

That never happened. 

But Joel was going to come back. That was the plan, that was always the plan and Jackson hadn’t lost someone on patrol in a while and you had no reason to be this nervous and distracted. Joel was going to walk into the stables and grab you and kiss you. And it was all going to be OK. 

There was a sharp little knock at your door, the knock Ellie made when she was second guessing that she should be there. You’d come to know it as the knock she made when she wanted to talk about something but was too afraid to really do it. You set the guitar down on the couch and jogged to the door, Ellie already knocking again, a little relieved that you’d have the excuse to not be sitting there alone. 

“About time,” Ellie rolled her eyes, pushing past you into the house. 

“Nice to see you too, Kid,” you smiled a little, closing and locking your door before trailing after her, drawing Joel’s shirt tighter to yourself as you did. “What’s on the brain? Dina troubles?” 

“You know, not everything is about a girl,” she flopped heavily on your loveseat, one leg dangling over the arm rest, the other planted on the floor. “There’s more to life than sex. Not that you would know. Gross.” 

You snorted. 

“So what’s going on?” You asked, grabbing your guitar and flopping on the couch. You gave it a strum. “Trying to figure out the meaning of life or something? You’ve got that look.” 

“Do not,” she rolled her eyes in the way that only teenaged girls were somehow so skilled at. 

“Do so,” you played a few more quick random chords. “C’mon. Share. Know you want to.” 

You kept strumming quietly, watching her tap her foot impatiently. You kept your mouth shut. If you waited her out, she’d talk. Ellie was a special kid but she was still a teenaged girl. She’d spill it eventually. 

You were right. 

She’d only been there, silent while you played really nothing at all, for a few minutes when she huffed and sat up in a flurry of messy hair and overly long shirt sleeves. 

You looked at her, brows raised. 

“I’m worried, OK?” She looked at you, her brown eyes big. They were wide and soft and open and, even though you knew she wasn’t related to Joel, her eyes reminded you so much of him in that moment. How he looked at you when you played guitar and he was close, how he looked when he told you things about himself that you weren’t sure anyone else knew. They were both usually so guarded, so terrified of being vulnerable, but they got the same look in their eyes when they let themselves be open. 

You stopped playing. 

“About what?” 

She gnawed on her lower lip for a second. 

“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” she said. “What you told me about what parents do for their kids… I never had parents. Like… ever. It’s not like I had some when I was little and they fucking died or something I just never had them. No one ever… I don’t know, loved me and shit. I never had it so I never really thought about what that would be like. But Joel… he loves me. Right?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled a little sadly at her. You wished you could go back in time and find the little girl who was Ellie all alone and love her then, love her the way she deserved to be. “He does. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, like she was processing it. 

“I guess I never understood what that would mean,” she said. “That it would mean someone would choose me over… well, over anything at all I guess but over the entire fucking world? It doesn’t feel right.” 

You shrugged. 

“Love is crazy like that,” you said. “Especially the kind Joel has for you.” 

She nodded again. 

“I still don’t know if I can forgive him,” she said slowly. “But I can try to understand him. I think I can understand him and see why he thought it was the right thing…” 

Her voice trailed off and she bounced her leg and picked at the seam of your couch cushion before she looked at you, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. 

“But what if I never get a chance to tell him that?” Her voice cracked a little and she swallowed hard. “What if something happens and the last thing I said to him… I was so fucking mean to him before he left, Bambi, I was so fucking mean and I…” 

“Hey,” you said gently, setting your guitar down and going to sit beside her. “It’s OK, Honey. It’s OK. Joel loves you, he would never hold it against you and, deep down, he knows you love him, too. But it’s all a moot point, he’s coming back and he’ll be fine. You’ll get a chance to talk to him and tell him how you’re feeling and it’ll be OK.” 

She nodded and pressed herself against you, her face against your shoulder. You tucked her below your chin and held her close. Ellie was such a force of a person, always so brash and strong, but she felt so small and fragile in your arms then, every inch the child she tried to pretend she wasn’t. 

“You had parents, right?” She sniffed, inching closer to you on the couch. You adjusted around her, her legs draped over yours. 

“I did,” you smiled a little into her hair. 

“Did you guys get along?” 

You laughed a little. 

“Not really,” you said. “I was a lot more like my dad than my mom but my dad was closer to my brothers. He was fine with me ranching as a hobby but didn’t want me to be a rancher, didn’t like me working with the horses as much as I did. My mom wanted me to be more like her and I just wasn’t. It caused a lot of friction. But…” You sighed and gave her a little squeeze. “We loved each other. Even when I was mad at them I knew they loved me and I loved them. That’s the point. It’s not always easy and that’s OK.” 

She just nodded into you. 

“Don’t know why I’m so worried,” she fidgeted with her hands but stayed pressed against you. “Not like he’s never left Jackson before. Fuck knows we faced worse shit than whatever he’s going to run into out there. I’ve just got this feeling…” 

You didn’t tell her that you did, too. You didn’t want to freak her out. You didn’t want to think about what it might mean that both of you felt off about it. 

“Want to stay over again?” You asked, hoping she’d say yes. You weren’t sure you wanted to be by yourself at that moment, either. “We can dance party.” 

“Yeah,” she laughed a little. “That’d be good.” 

You let Ellie pick the music before you raided the more modest VHS collection and put on Fargo. She passed out curled up next to you on the couch and you just watched her for a moment, her legs tucked up against her stomach, arms crossed over her chest. You understood why Joel would kill to protect her, why he’d choose her over the possibility of a cure. She wasn’t your daughter but it felt like she could be. You’d protect her like your daughter. She needed that, deserved that. 

You got up slowly from the couch so as to not disturb her and got a blanket from your hiding place bed, draping it over her. You curled up on the loveseat and fell asleep there, keeping her close, keeping her where you could keep her safe until Joel came home. 

Ellie was reluctant to go to school the next day and she showed up at the stable just a few minutes after classes ended for the day. 

“Here to draw Shimmer?” You asked, brows raised. 

“Duh,” she rolled her eyes. “Why else would I be here?” 

You smiled a little as you got the horse out of her stall and put her out in the paddock, Ellie perching on the fence with her sketch pad and pencil. You checked on her periodically, just glancing out to where she sat, catching her watching the entrance to the stables more than once. Waiting for Joel to come back. 

It wasn’t like you could blame her. You were watching for him, too. Especially once other patrol pairs started coming back. Julie and Thomas came back first, just before dinner. They said they hadn’t run into any trouble, not even any infected, so they weren’t surprised they were the first ones back. You busied yourself getting their horses settled as they headed to their respective homes to get cleaned up after spending three days on the road. It was only another hour before the next pair, Will and Beth, came back.There had been some trees down on their usual path, the aftermath of an early summer storm, they suspected, and it took time to figure out the best way through. 

“Want to go pick us up some dinner?” You asked Ellie as twilight was on the horizon, which meant it had to be nearing 8 p.m. Joel still wasn’t back. “I’ll hold down the fort?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, OK.” 

You watched her set out to the mess hall and, when she was out of sight, got in Renaissance’s stall. She gave you a questioning look, her ears turning on her head, her body still sweaty where she’d born a saddle and rider for three straight days. 

“Hey sweet girl,” you said gently, reaching out to scratch her chin. She pressed into your touch and you stepped closer to her, resting your forehead against her thick, warm neck and breathing deep, centering yourself. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I really don’t.” 

She huffed. 

“I know,” you said, giving her another scratch. There had always been something about horses that calmed you, something you were grateful you could rely on now. “I don’t know how to do this. How to be in a relationship like this. I’ve never done this. Maybe this is just what it’s like? But… He can’t end up like everyone else. He just can’t.” 

She nudged you gently with her large head and you stepped back from her. She lowered her head and pressed it against your chest, chuffing as she did. You scratched her neck. 

“I know,” you sighed. “I know.” 

Casey and Monica came back while Ellie was gone, the second to last group. Only Joel and Tommy were left outside. You tried not to think about that. Monica’s arm was bleeding and she was limping. 

“What happened?” You frowned as you took their horses from them. 

“Ran into fucking raiders on day two,” Casey said, taking her pack from the saddle of her horse. “Just a small crew, we caught them off guard so we handled them pretty easy but held us up a bit coming back. Mon sprained her ankle, couldn’t keep her foot in the stirrup too long, had to take a lot of breaks. We’re the last ones, right?” 

“No,” you said, chest tight. “No, Joel and Tommy are still out there.” 

Monica’s eyes went wide. 

“Joel and Tommy are still out?” She asked, incredulous. You nodded. “Shit. They’re usually the first back, handle their shit quick…” 

Your stomach turned. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Casey said, noticing the look on your face. “They went the same path as that summer storm, they’re probably just running into damage, making it hard to get through… It’s Joel and Tommy. I’m sure they’re fine.” 

“Right,” you said, giving her a tight smile. “You’re right.” 

Monica leaned on Casey and you watched the two of them head toward the clinic just as Ellie came back, frowning as she watched them go. 

“The fuck happened to them?” She asked, handing you a sandwich wrapped in paper and an apple. 

“Raiders,” you said, going to the spot you liked to plop down at when you were taking a break while working. Ellie trailed behind you. 

“Shit,” she said, her brows drawn tightly together. “You don’t think…” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, taking a bite of your sandwich. It tasted like sand in your mouth, making your stomach churn. “We don’t have any reason to worry. It’s fine.” 

You brushed down every horse in the stable, asked Ellie to tell you every pun she could remember, reorganized the tack even though you ended up not really changing anything because you ran a pretty tight ship to begin with. 

It was nearing midnight when Maria came to the stable, William looking groggy and half asleep on her hip. 

“Thought I might find you here,” she said. 

You shrugged. 

“Like it here.” 

She nodded slowly, looking between you and Ellie. 

“Alex at the gate is going to come get me as soon as they sight them,” she said, her grip on her son tightening a little as she said it. “Want to come wait at mine? It’s more comfortable than here.” 

The gate giving you a heads up would be faster than waiting at the stables. They’d see them coming. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, let me run home and grab and change of clothes if it’s OK that I use your shower, I smell like horse…” 

“Course,” she smiled. “You too, Ellie?” 

“Yeah,” she jumped down from the stall door she’d been perched on. “Yeah, I’ll come. I don’t… Sounds shitty to just be by myself.” 

You literally ran to your house, grabbing a shirt that smelled like Joel and the coat, too, for good measure, as well as some clean jeans and some sweat pants before you ran to Maria’s.

You’d never been inside Maria’s house before but, in that moment, you didn’t care. The need to know that Joel was OK was stronger than your fear of being in a space you didn’t control. 

You took the fastest shower you ever remembered taking and settled in the living room next to Ellie, who immediately leaned against you, pressing her nose into Joel’s shirt. Maria sat, watching the front door, her foot bouncing impatiently off the rug in front of her. 

“Has this happened with them before?” You asked quietly after a minute. 

“No,” Maria shook her head. “But we haven’t lost anyone on patrol in a very long time. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re fine.” 

She nodded to herself and Ellie curled her legs into her chest. 

“Hey Kid,” you said after a minute. “Best guitar part. What is it?” 

Ellie sat up from you a little, frowning. 

“Is now really the time to talk about that?” She asked. 

You glanced at Maria, who figured out pretty quickly what you were doing. 

“I think so,” she said. “Curious to know your thoughts since Tommy’s taste is… questionable.” 

You snorted. 

“He asked me to play Freebird once,” you said. “So cliche.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes and thought for a second. 

“Maybe Crazy on You by Heart,” she said eventually. 

“Good choice,” you nodded. “Knew you’d pick up some good taste through proper education…” 

“OK my taste has always been good,” she said, sitting tucked into the corner of the couch now, her legs crossed in front of her instead of curled protectively in on herself. “You don’t get that much credit!” 

“Sure, sure,” you waved her off. 

“I just had limited access before,” she said. “Not my fault I was stuck with the music I could find in a fucking QZ man!” 

You huffed a laugh. 

“Seems like you had more options than I did…” 

“Yeah but you had horses and freedom and shit,” she said. “Fair trade.” 

You laughed at that. 

“Maybe so,” you said. 

“Got another question for you,” Maria said, not giving Ellie a chance to respond. “What’s the best pun? Seems like you’re the expert so…” 

“That is so subjective though!” Ellie replied, her eyes getting wide. “You can’t ask me to pick just one…” 

You and Maria took turns trying to distract her until she started falling asleep sitting up. Ellie eventually slumped over, her head going in your lap. You trailed your fingers through her hair and you felt her doze off, her breathing going into the steady, gentle rhythm of sleep. 

Maria watched you, her arms crossed over her chest, her jaw clenched. 

“You OK?” You asked quietly. 

“No,” she said, voice so soft you had a hard time hearing her. “And I won’t be until he’s back.” 

You laughed once, quietly, darkly. 

“Stupid question, I guess.” 

She laughed the same way back. 

“It feels like I got cocky,” she sighed. “Like I was feeling too comfortable here, like I forgot how bad the world has become. Life here was too good for too long. Too much like what it was like before. Guess the apocalypse decided it needed to remind me of who was in charge.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I know it’s not the same, Joel isn’t to me what Tommy is to you but… I feel about the same. Like I was getting to close to living with people again and something had to remind me that there’s risk with that.” 

“The world fucking sucks sometimes,” Maria said. 

You smiled tightly. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, it does.” 

You weren’t sure what time it was when you ended up dozing off, too, your head lulled over on the couch cushion, hand still on Ellie’s hair. That’s where you were when there was a loud knock on the door, jerking you out of your shallow sleep. 

“Wha?” Ellie sat up, groggy, as Maria fumbled for the door, almost tripping over her own feet to get there. You all but jumped off the couch once Ellie was off your lap and the three of you were clustered around the door when Maria yanked it open, breathless. Alex, a younger man who often kept watch at the gate was standing there, panting. 

“They’re back.” 

***

He couldn’t die. 

Not out here. Not like this. 

Not when it would also get his brother killed. 

Not when he hadn’t fixed things with Ellie, when she still hated him, when she didn’t fully understand what she meant to him. 

Not when he’d never told you how he felt about you. Not when he’d never said that he loved you, not when he’d never told any woman that he loved her.

Not out here. Not now. Not like this. 

It was all Joel could think as he and Tommy fought off the small band of raiders who’d come out, guns blazing. 

The fact that they survived was luck. 

Luck that they knew the area better than the fools who attacked them, that they had an idea of where to go to seek cover or how to cut around and attack from another position. Luck that these idiots were young - hardly more than boys, really, probably lured in with the promise of food and shelter and sex from whoever they could take - and were hardly sharp shooters. Luck that, while they’d been caught off guard, they’d been patrolling long enough that they knew how to react fast and react well. 

Luck that, the shots that did land, weren’t critical. 

But they were enough to slow them down. Joel had been shot in the thigh, Tommy the arm and it was a battle between trying to move fast enough to get back to Jackson before blood loss caught up with them while controlling their mounts and stopping often enough to change the emergency dressings on their wounds as they bled. 

The thought of you kept him moving. Your eyes, your smile, your voice as you sang while he played guitar. The way you trusted him enough to let him be close to you, the way you cared for the horses, the way you loved Ellie. He was going to make it back to you. If it was the last thing he ever did, he was making it home to you. 

Joel wasn’t sure what time it was when they rode up to the main gate, hardly able to stay sitting up on the back of his horse. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” Patrick, one of the men who was guarding the main gate, rushed forward and caught him as he all but fell off his horse. “What the fuck happened?” 

“Raiders,” he said, breathless from the pain and effort of staying on the back of his mount when he was this injured. 

“Ran into a band of ‘em about a day and a half out,” Tommy said, voice strained from pain. “Right near the turn around point.” 

Carter, another guard, got to Tommy, who waved him off. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just get the horses to the stables, I gotta get my brother to the clinic…” 

“Can you help him?” Patrick asked, shoulder in Joel’s armpit as he helped him stay on his feet. “I can run ahead to the clinic that way…” 

“I got it,” Alex yelled from atop the wall. “I’ll get the doc up!” 

Dr. Palmer was bleary eyed but awake when Joel and Tommy made it to the clinic. 

“Shit,” she swore, looking at the two of them. “Alright, let’s get the two of you settled and then I’ll assess…” 

She put Tommy in one makeshift exam room and Joel in the other and, for the first time since the attack began a day and a half before, Joel felt like he could breathe. 

He’d made it back. Tommy was alive and he’d made it back to you and Ellie. 

“Joel!” 

It was as though his thoughts had summoned his would be daughter, her small body hurtling at him after she burst through the door. She slammed into him and he caught her as she clung to him, crying into his chest. 

“Hey, Baby Girl,” he said, arms going around her and holding her close. There was the faint smell of hay on her hair, a smell that made him smile. For a moment, he wondered if he’d actually made it back. If, maybe, he was dreaming. If Ellie being happy to see him was a final gift from his dying mind as he bled out in the forest. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“I know I’m OK,” she pulled back from him with a sniffle. “It’s you we’ve been worried about, you dick!” 

“Joel.” 

Your voice was so quiet, he barely heard it but, the next thing he knew, you were against him. He hadn’t really been able to get a proper look at you, nothing but a blur of hair and one of his plaid shirts as you ran for him. Your arms went around his neck and your body pressed against him and Joel felt you take a deep, shuddering breath as he clutched you close. 

Ellie must not have talked to you, you weren’t disgusted by him, still wanted to be near him. His lips brushed your cheek.

“I was so afraid,” your voice was quiet and thick and he held you somehow tighter, your body between his legs. He ignored the pulling, throbbing pain at his thigh. It didn’t matter. Not when it meant having you close. 

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” he said softly. You were so warm and soft and fuck, he loved you. “Didn’t mean to worry you…” 

You stepped back and tried your eyes on the sleeves of the shirt he’d given you. You put your arm around Ellie and tugged her against your side as she tried to pretend like she hadn’t just been crying, too. You looked him up and down, your eyes ranging over him, frowning when you noticed the blood at his thigh.

“I’ll be fine…” he began, but you cut him off. 

“Someone shot you,” your eyes were all wide and doe-like, looking from his thigh to his face and back again. You reached for the injury before you seemed to think better of it, instead putting your hand on his knee. 

“Ran into some raiders,” Joel said, keeping his voice calm. “We took care of ‘em, but they got some hits in. We’re alright.” 

You swallowed hard and nodded as Dr. Palmer came back in, looking surprised to see you and Ellie there. 

“I’ll need you two to wait outside,” she said. “These rooms are tight enough, I need some space to work.” 

“But…” Ellie protested but she interrupted. 

“I’ll take good care of him,” she smiled a little. “Promise. It’s OK.” 

“C’mon Kid,” you kept your eyes on Joel as you started steering Ellie toward the door. “We’ll stick close, it’s OK.” 

He watched you go until you closed the door behind you, eyes lingering where you’d been, like touching the space you’d occupied with his sight would keep you there longer. 

“Let’s get you fixed up,” the doctor smiled, pulling a seat up alongside him. “Get you home with your girls as quick as we can.” 

Joel felt like he should argue the classification for a moment. That you and Ellie were his in any way, that he’d ever be worthy of being something to either of you after everything he had done, all that he had wrought. 

But he wanted you and Ellie to be his, wanted to live in a moment where that was true. Exist in a space that you were his woman - his to come home to, his to look after, his to love - and Ellie was his daughter, a girl he loved and looked after and guided through life alongside you. 

“How’s Tommy?” Joel asked after a minute as she cut the denim away from the injury on his leg and started cleaning the wound. 

“Better off than you,” she said, sounding a little distracted. 

“Good,” Joel said, nodding slowly. “S’my fault. Got distracted. Should be me paying for it.” 

“Seems like it’s the raiders’ fault,” she said absently. “It looks like the bullet is in a good spot so I’m going to try to pull it out and get things all bandaged up. It’s going to hurt…” 

“It’s fine,” Joel said, gripping the edge of the table, looking at the door. You were close. He just had to get through this and then he’d get to be with you and Ellie. “Had worse.” 

She nodded and set to work, Joel gritting his teeth through the pain as Dr. Palmer rooted around in his leg. He was right, he’d had worse, but it still hurt like hell. But he didn’t want to freak out you or Ellie, he’d rather the two of you think that everything happening in this room was calm and painless as the doctor pulled the bullet free. She held it up in the small tongs so he could see, the metal shiny with blood. 

“Sure is a little thing to have caused so much trouble,” she said, turning it in the light for a moment before dropping it on a small tray with a resounding clatter. “Let me make sure you don’t have any damage beyond the obvious and then I’ll get you cleaned and bandaged up.” 

Joel just nodded, still watching the door as she worked. 

“You know,” she said after a while. “I’m glad to see that you and Ellie seem to be patching things up…” 

“That’s a… new development,” Joel said. “Hopin’ it sticks.” 

She nodded slowly. 

“Also glad to see that you’ve found someone here besides your brother,” she said, adjusting Joel’s leg so she could wrap the wound. He frowned and she seemed to sense it. “You’ve done a lot for this community, Joel, but you have a tendency to keep to yourself. Which is fine, of course, so long as you’re happy that way. But you deserve more if you want it. Nice to see you have that for a change.” 

She sat back and looked at his leg, giving it a nod. 

“Come back in a few days,” she said. “Me or Carol will take a second look at it, make sure it’s healing well. Take it easy in the mean time, you lost a lot of blood. Let someone take care of you for a change, OK?” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

She opened the door and you and Ellie both jumped up from the couch. But you stayed put for a moment as Dr. Palmer left, Ellie closing the door behind her so it was just the two of them. 

“Hey Kiddo,” he smiled a little. “Sure is good to see ya.” 

“Good to see you, too, old man,” she smiled a little in return, her back pressed against the door. “Can I talk to you for a second? I know you’re probably tired and shit but…” 

“Course,” Joel frowned. “What’s on your mind?” 

She pushed off the door and shoved her hands in her pockets as she stepped closer to the exam table, watching her feet for a moment. 

“I, um…” she trailed off before taking a deep breath and looking him in the eye. “I talked to Bambi. I told her everything. The real reason you brought me west, what happened in the hospital… all of it.” 

Joel’s heart clenched but he nodded slowly. Christ, what you must think of him now. He had to explain it to you, he could explain it to you, make you understand why, he could.  

“That’s OK Baby Girl,” he said. “Not fair of me to ask you to hid things from people you care about and… I still think you need to keep why I brought you here a secret but she’s safe. She’ll protect you.” 

“I know,” she nodded. “But… She said some shit to me about it and it made me think and… I don’t know that I’ll ever think you did the right thing in that hospital, Joel. But… I guess she made me think about it differently. And I can try to understand it, what you did. I want to understand it, I want to be able to have a relationship with you again. I don’t want to be pissed at you forever…” she took a deep breath and looked at her feet for a moment before looking back at him again, tears shining in her eyes. “I’ve missed you. And it scared the shit out of me, thinking that you might not come back and the last thing I ever said to you was something so fucking shitty and I’m sorry I said it and…” 

“Baby Girl,” Joel said gently, trying not to cry himself, his chest tight. “Come here.” 

Ellie nodded, her jaw set, and she pressed her face into his shoulder, her arms going around his waist. He held her close. She felt so small against him. As strong as she was, as tough as she acted, she was still just a girl. His little girl, the same little girl he’d fought to protect, the same little girl he’d brought across the country, the same little girl who had become his reason for existing. 

“It’s OK,” he said gently. She nodded into his chest. “I’ve got you Baby Girl. I’ve got you.”  

He held her for a moment, until her breathing slowed to a more normal rate and her tears slowed. She pulled back from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. 

“I don’t know what I’m ready for yet,” she said, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “I don’t think… I don’t think I can just go back to how it was before Salt Lake City. But maybe you, me and Bambi can have dinner or something.” 

“Whatever you want, Kiddo,” he smiled. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” 

She nodded and sniffed, looking a little calmer now. 

“I’m going to head home,” she said. “But… I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing. If that’s OK.” 

“Course,” he nodded. “I can’t wait. I love you so much, Baby Girl. I really, really do.” 

She smiled a little. 

“I know,” she said. “Or, well… I think I’m starting to. I’m… I’m glad you’re going to be OK, Joel.” 

She leaned in slowly and gave him a soft peck on the cheek before hugging him one more time. 

He watched her go, you right there when she opened the door, giving her shoulder a squeeze as she passed and you closed the door behind her. 

“I could have sworn I told you to come back in one piece,” you smiled a little, arms crossed as you closed the distance between the two of you. 

He laughed, smoothing his hand over your hair, gently holding the base of your skull in his large palm. His leg suddenly hurt much less. 

“You did,” he said, tilting your head just so, kissing you softly. “Tried to listen but…” 

“Think you can make it home?” You asked. 

“Might need to take it slow,” he said. “But I’m not sleepin’ somewhere you aren’t for any longer than I have to.” 

He leaned on you for the short walk to his house, the trip easily taking three times longer than usual. Neither of you spoke, Joel focused on breathing through the pain and the effort it took to move, and he was relieved to make it in the front door. 

“If you tell me where sheets are, I can fix up the couch…” 

“Baby,” Joel cut you off. “I’m makin’ it up those stairs. Told you, I’m not sleeping somewhere you aren’t and that means we are in the same damn bed.” 

“Joel…” 

“Rode a day and a half with a damn bullet in my leg,” he said. “Can handle some stairs.” 

You just smiled a little and shook your head but helped him up to the bedroom, too. 

“See?” He said, panting for breath as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “Told you, I’m fine.” 

“How about I get you some water and something to eat before you pass out,” you shook your head a little, leaving him alone for a moment before coming back with a tall glass of water and a pear. 

“Here,” you held it out. “Start with this. I’m going run you a bath…” 

“Really don’t need you to take care of me, Baby.” 

You leveled him with a glare. He laughed a little. 

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Sweetheart.” 

Joel drank the water and ate the pear before making his way to the bathroom. 

“What are you doing!” Your eyes went wide when he leaned against the door frame. 

“I can walk down the hall on my own, sweetheart,” he half smiled at you and you turned off the water to the tub before going to him, unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers brushing his skin. He traced the outline of your face, your skin soft below his callused touch. “Baby. I’m OK.” 

“Scared the shit out of me,” you muttered, sliding his shirt off of him and draping it over his arm. You lowered the toilet seat and pointed him there and he tried to not smile too big as he obeyed. He’d never seen you be a caretaker before, at least to anything besides the horses. It was almost reassuring, seeing your reaction to his coming back. Like it was confirmation that you felt for him the way he felt for you. Like maybe what Ellie had said hadn’t horrified you. 

You helped him out of his jeans and underwear, carefully pulling the fabric over his injured leg before helping him in the tub. 

“Leave the hurt leg outside the bath,” you said, helping him sit down, one leg in the water, one leg on the tile floor. “Something tells me that’s not supposed to get wet.”  

“Think you’re right,” he replied as he settled into the water. You sat on the ground next to him, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt and grabbing his washcloth and the soap. “Baby…” 

“Hush,” you replied, wetting the cloth and covering it in soap before running it over his skin slowly, methodically. Joel watched you, watched your brows drawn together in concentration, finding every inch of him, the tender pressure of your touch as you washed away the sweat and the dirt and the blood. When you brought the cloth back to his already cleaned chest, he gently caught your wrist and your eyes flew to his, all wide and deep with tears at the edges. He brushed his thumb over the delicate structure of your veins, feeling the thrum of your heart through your blood. 

“Baby,” he said softly. “I’m OK.” 

“Joel,” your voice broke and you all but collapsed against him, your head going to his chest, your body pressed against the cool porcelain of the tub. He wrapped his arms around you as best he could without pulling you into the water with him. Your wracking, choking sobs made his heart ache and he pressed a long kiss into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of you as he did. “I was so scared, I had a bad feeling and I just… I can’t lose you, too, please don’t make me lose you, I can’t…” 

“Not goin’ anywhere, Sweetheart,” he said, holding you. “Always gonna come back to you, can’t stop me.” 

You laughed wetly against him, your breaths evening out and calming down. After another minute you sat back, dabbing your eyes with the back of your wrist. 

“Sorry,” you sniffed, shaking your head a bit. “Probably think I’m crazy, acting like this…” 

“You and Ellie were all I could think about out there,” he said softly. “Kept thinking I had to get back, had to fix things with her. Couldn’t die with her hating me that much. And I had to… I had to tell you that I love you. Couldn’t let some raider fucks take me out without you knowin’ that.”

“Joel,” you breathed, the washcloth slipping from your hand and into the water. You damn near climbed in the tub with him, kissing him desperately, your wet fingers knotting in his hair. He held you close, the water from his skin soaking into your shirt but you didn’t seem to care. You eventually separated from him, panting for breath, his hands still on you. Your eyes searched his, your nose brushing against his own as you breathed, your hand moving to his face, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. He could feel the callus on your skin, the ones from riding and playing standing out in contrast to the softness of the rest of you. “Joel, I love you, too. So much it scares me, I’ve never loved anyone I haven’t lost and I can’t lose you, Joel. I can’t.” 

He tugged you closer, so his forehead was on yours, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“I know, Sweetheart,” he said softly. “Can’t lose you, either.” 

He kissed you, gently at first, but it grew needy and desperate before too long, your hands ranging over his naked, wet skin, slipping below the water before wrapping your fingers around his now hardening cock. 

“Baby,” he whispered in half-hearted protest. 

“Am I hurting you?” You sat back from him enough to look over his face, frowning. 

“No,” he said and you brushed your thumb over his slit, making him moan. “Just… don’t know that I’ll be able to properly return the favor.” 

You smiled a little and shook your head, kissing him again, your hand starting to work him up and down. 

“Let me do this for you,” you said softly before pressing your lips to his again. “Don’t worry about me. I want to take care of you, make you feel good.” 

He moaned into your mouth as you stroked him, your hand so much smaller and softer than his own, your lips sweet against his. He wanted to swallow the taste and feel of you, pull you into himself where he could keep you with him, make you a part of him so he’d never have to be without you again. He involuntarily thrust up against your hand and he felt you smile as you kissed him, your tongue slipping between his lips to find his own. 

You worked him harder, faster, kissing him more forcefully, pressing the parts of you that could reach him tighter and tighter to him. When he came, his whole body got tight and needy with the heady pleasure of it, his come spilling into the water as your hand slowed. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he managed, slumping down in the tub, your hand still on his now softening cock. 

You smiled and pressed one last soft kiss to his lips. 

“C’mon,” you said, getting up and drying your hands before pulling the towel from the rack. “Let’s get you to bed. Sun’s going to be up soon, we need some sleep.” 

Once you pulled him to his feet, he put the towel around his waist and you helped him down the hall again and to the bed. Joel didn’t bother with pajamas, just climbing in naked, watching you as you undressed, eyes ranging over your every curve, longing to touch every inch of your smooth skin. 

“Sure I won’t hurt you?” You asked, frozen with the blanket in your hand as you were about to climb in bed. 

“You won’t,” Joel said. “And I need to be next to you. Leg can deal with it.” 

You smiled a little and shook your head but climbed into bed anyway, turning out the light on your way. You tried to keep your distance at first, not melting against him the way you usually did when you got into bed, but Joel pulled you to him anyway and he felt the familiar contours of you relax into him when he did. He put his arms around you, holding you to him. This was where you belonged. Here, like this, where he could feel you and know you were safe. 

After a few minutes of silence beside you, he took a deep breath and brought up the thing that had him so distracted when on patrol to begin with. 

“Ellie talked to you,” he said softly, not really asking it. He knew the answer was yes. 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“She did.” 

He held you tighter. 

“You’re still here,” he said. 

“I am,” you said. 

He kissed the top of your head and you pressed yourself closer. 

“Ellie said you made her think about it differently,” he said slowly. “Can… Can I ask what you said? How you’re feelin’?” 

You took a deep, shaky breath. 

“I told her that you did what any parent would do,” you said, your voice soft, cracking ever so slightly. “I told her that, in that scenario, you never really had a choice. That isn’t a choice. Of course you’d save your child. There isn’t a world to save without her in it. I asked her if she’d have let the Fireflies kill William. If she’d have let them kill you. She seemed… I don’t think she understands it yet. I’m not sure she really can, at her age. But I think she will. And I think you did the right thing, Joel. I’d have done the same thing you did.” 

Joel nodded and took a deep breath of his own, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“I…” his voice broke and he took a second to center himself. He needed to make sure you understood. He needed you to know this part of him, too. “I had a daughter. Before. Before Ellie, before the outbreak, I had a daughter…” 

“Joel,” you whispered, your fingers finding his hair, brushing through it soothingly. He gave you a squeeze. 

“Her name was Sarah,” the tightness in his chest felt like it might crush him but he kept going. “She was… she was amazing. Best thing that ever happened to me, just the best fuckin’ kid. She was so damn smart, so sweet - still not sure where the fuck she got that from - and so funny. Her mom left us both when she was a baby so it was just the two of us but I liked it that way, just me n’her. She was mine, she was all I needed. She made life worth living. But… In the outbreak…” 

He blinked back tears. 

“Don’t matter how it happened, I guess,” he said after a moment. “All that matters is I didn’t protect her as well as I should have and she died in my arms and it damn near killed me. In a lot of ways, it did. Kept wishing it had been me instead of her or, at the very least, that it would have taken me, too, so I wasn’t stuck tryin’ to live without her. Being without her was… it was the worst kind of hell. I went numb to everything, fuckin’ everything. Sometimes wondered if I was alive at all, didn’t seem like I was. Didn’t have a reason to be. And that’s what life was until Ellie. And that girl, that smart ass little girl… She’s the first thing that made me feel like there was still life to be had after Sarah. 

“I wasn’t supposed to love ‘er. Pretty sure that’s why the damn Fireflies asked me to take her to begin with, didn’t think I could get attached to anything. Figured I’d be fine handing her over to die, long as they paid me well. When they told me what would happen to her, what they needed, I… I couldn’t do it, Baby. I couldn’t let ‘em hurt her, kill her. Don’t give a shit about some theoretical fuckin’ cure - wouldn’t give a shit if it was a sure thing, either - if it meant she wasn’t going to live go see it. World’s not worth it without her. I couldn’t survive losing her. I couldn’t. I couldn’t fail her, too, I had to protect her. So that’s what I did. I saved her. And… and I lied to her about it. Knew she’d hate herself for it, she carried a lot of weight on her shoulders because of her immunity - she acted like it was her whole purpose, saving the fuckin’ world - and I couldn’t put that on her, too. But she learned the truth and I don’t blame her for hating me for it. Still… I don’t regret it. Never have, not for a single goddamn second. Don’t care how much she hates me as long as she’s alive to do it. That’s all that matters. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. It’s worth it. Always will be.” 

Your fingers stilled in his hair, tangling in it at the back of his head and you pulled him toward you, your lips meeting his, so soft against him. He just kissed you for a minute, concentrating on the feeling of your skin on him, the feeling of you in his arms. He could feel tears on your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you said quietly, pulling away from him, your voice thick and wet. “I’m so sorry you had to live through everything you have, that you had to survive without your child… But I’m so happy it didn’t take you, too. I’m so happy you made it here, that you found me and I found you and… I love you, Joel.” 

He pulled you impossibly closer, his fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he clutched you tight. 

“I am, too, now,” he said. “Her… her and you. Makes sense now, why I lived. Needed to find the two of you. Got everything I need with the two of you.” 

Dawn was edging into the horizon when you fell asleep in his arms and he just watched you breathe in the hazy light of the early morning. He watched you like that for a long time, until exhaustion took hold and he couldn’t anymore and he fell asleep wrapped up in you, bathed in the light of day.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank y'all so so much for being patient with this chapter! I've had an absolutely insanely busy few weeks. I'll probably be posting a bit less frequently for a week or so yet but expect this to be updated at least once a week in the mean time. I really appreciate you being willing to wait for the next chapters. Please know that I'd much rather be writing this than working, believe me!

I'm going to be doing a bit of a review of the story map for this part of the fic this weekend and I should have an angsticipation timeline update for those curious very very soon!

I do have a an updates blog for those who want to be alerted when I publish. Just follow and subscribe here.

Thank you for being here and for reading my work and hanging out in this corner of the internet. I love it here because you're here.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

[chishiyasleftnut]

Hi everyone ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／This is another fic I wrote in the middle of the night, but I couldn't get the scenario out of my head haha. It's not smutty at all, but I want to experiment a bit with different genres. I hope you'll all like it! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

2+1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Genre: Fluff w/ mild angst. Warnings: Minor existential dread, mentioning of abortions. Pairing: Dad!Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: After a long day at work, dad!Chishiya contemplates about his new role as a father. Is he even cut out for the job?

1140 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Chishiya had never seen himself as the father type. Perhaps it was the subconscious fear of becoming like his own father - distant and uncaring - that kept him from wilfully pursuing that path. However, despite his best efforts to prevent it, you had managed to accidentally become pregnant and he had had to come to terms with the scary reality of fatherhood. 

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Sure, the little creature was awfully noisy and smelly at times, but he had to admit that she was also kinda cute. Did the positives outweigh the negatives? He wasn’t sure. But he knew he didn’t completely hate being a parent as much as he originally feared.

Luckily, Chishiya was earning enough money to secure you a long maternity leave, allowing you to bond well with your baby in a way Chishiya never would. He had accepted that and somewhat found peace with the fact that he wasn’t expected to be as close to the tiny being as you were. It was easier to handle having to accept that he was the secondary caregiver and not the primary.

Another benefit of his job were the long hours, which gave him a much-needed break from dealing with home life. He had always used his work as a coping mechanism to deal with every small, negative thing life threw at him, but it was only after becoming a dad that he realised that that’s what his own father did too. It scared him to admit that he shared more than just blood with the man who had been so distant his entire childhood. However, he tried to shake the feeling and convinced himself that he was taking extra shifts to afford your maternity leave. Mh, yes. That was 100% why.

Despite desperately seeking a sanction from the reality of his newfound status as a dad, a part of him was always looking forward to coming home. And so he did this night, stepping into your shared apartment, which was only lit up by the moon shining luminously through the big and modern windows. The apartment, which long ago had been only sparsely decorated (just as he liked it), was now covered in proof of your child’s existence; no matter where he looked, he saw baby toys, neatly folded onesies, and an array of pacifiers in every colour possible.

Trying his best to ignore the way his once tidy apartment had changed, he walked with tired steps through the apartment until he got to the master bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door, mindful of the way it creaked so as not to disturb you or the little human sleeping safely in her comfortable crib next to your bed.

For a while, he stood still in the doorway, examining the way you and your baby’s breathing were synchronised, as if you had become one with one another. Although he would never admit it, he envied you - envied the way you so easily let this helpless child into your heart and how you so naturally took care of her every need in a way that Chishiya couldn’t make sense of.

It was those quiet moments that assured him that you made the right choice in keeping the child. Of course you had discussed the possibility of getting an abortion, but now that your daughter was in front of you - living, breathing, feeling - neither of you would want it any other way. How silly of you two to even consider any other option, he thought with a small smile creeping up on his lips.

With gentle steps, he walked into the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him before approaching the bed. Despite how silent he was attempting to be, you regrettably woke up. He hated when he woke you up after a night shift - now more than ever. As a doctor, he was well aware of how desperately a new mother needed rest, and he hated taking that away from you for even a moment.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered while climbing into bed next to you, still dressed in his hospital scrubs. “It’s just me.”

By instinct, you turned around to examine the small child, unable to fall back to sleep yourself until you had assured her that she was safely asleep. Luckily, she was, her chest rising and falling at just the right speed. He admired your natural dedication to ensuring your offspring’s safety and comfort. It always looked like second nature to you; like you were never, not even when asleep, not aware of how your daughter was doing.

Chishiya moved to embrace you, hugging you from behind and burrowing his face into your neck, taking in your scent. And that’s when he realised that work wasn’t his sanctuary; this was. It wouldn’t be easy for him to rearrange his mindset, but he knew he had to try. While you had never complained, he was well aware of how much being the prime caretaker of a newborn was taking a toll on you. You never got a full night’s rest anymore, surviving on napping throughout the day whenever the baby miraculously fell asleep.

That would have to change, and he knew it. No, he not only knew it; he wanted it to change. He wanted to be a better father and partner than his own dad was, and that started with reducing his work hours.

“I’m taking next week off,” he mumbled into the small hairs on your neck, unsure if you were even awake and listening to him. If he was honest, he wasn’t even sure if the comment was directed at you or if he just needed to say it aloud to believe it himself.

To his surprise, you hummed and scooted even closer to him, gently affirming to him that you were listening. Perhaps tomorrow, when he inevitably has to repeat the very same sentence, he will get a more enthusiastic response.

He could only hope that you were just as excited about the new change as he was. Still, he hoped you were without the deep fear that was echoing through his entire being - the fear of failure, of not being good enough for the sweet, innocent baby that was laying just half a metre away from the two of you.

In the last seconds before he slipped into unconsciousness, Chishiya, for the first time, found peace in his new role as a father, coming to terms with the fear of not being enough for the almost doll-like little girl that lay peacefully so close to him.

After all, very few great things were accomplished without fear and worry, and there was no doubt in his mind that this truly was a great thing. He could and would change. The two of you had turned into three, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya x you #fanfic #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland fic #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #aib fic #aib shuntaro chishiya #aib fanfic #fluff #angst #fluffy angst #angsty fluff

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 471. ha.

→ a/n: so. i can finally, FINALLY, post this! this is the real beginning to eddie's pov of his solo time from hour nine <3 it's not much, but for obvious reasons, i had to cut it when i posted the original.

He couldn’t sleep. He knew this was the time for the two of you to do exactly that, sleep and rest as much as you could before you received another interruption, but he couldn’t. 

Everything. 

He meant it. He was sorry for everything. All of it, every single moment that had ever transpired between the two of you, every broken cobblestone that lined the path from where you two began to where you two stand now. He was sorry for that first night, the way he’d turned so cold so suddenly. He was sorry for this night, for the way he’d lied through his teeth and said he’d celebrate your death. 

He wouldn’t celebrate your death. Even the idea of you no longer being a part of the friend group, let alone this plane of existence, made his heart ache a tune of something terrible. Suddenly, all his reasons for the way he’s protected himself have been proven right. Awfully right, painfully right.

Eddie Munson is incapable of being around you for more than a few minutes at a time, an hour if he pushed it, because if he is around you too long, he loves you too much. He loves your terrible jokes and he loves your laughter that follows. He loves the height of your cheeks and he loves the curve of your neck. He loves to watch you melt for him, to watch all the roughness he’d caused soften as you have slowly started to decide he was deserving of your time. Slow, warm. It runs like honey through his veins, but it burns like molten lava. Thick, scorchful, unforgiving, impossible to rid yourself of. 

He’s sorry. For everything. If he could take it back, he would. But, alas, he can’t – and so now he’s stuck in this bed beside you, a ridiculous fucking pillow wall to keep barriers up as the two of you have let the emotion ones crumble far too quickly. 

It’s when the first snore falls from your lips that he caves and decides he can’t keep staring at the ceiling anymore. He’s kept his eyes glued there, not risking glancing at your face for the fear of his heart only falling further. 

He can’t afford the consequences of loving someone like you. You are not something fragile and delicate for him to have and to hold. You’re a dagger to be wielded, and his grip is still too slick. The only one who gets cut in the end will be him. It won’t work. It can’t work.  

His mind rattles as he maneuvers carefully out of the bed, trying hard not to disturb you until he’s successfully sliding off the foot of the bed and standing up straight. He wants to look back at your sleeping form – he can’t let himself do it.

and obviously, you can continue to read the rest of the scene here. <3

#twenty four hours #my writing #beyond the hours #i'll figure out a better format for these once the series is over and i'm adding more consistently haha #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #it's really not that much to add but my god when i wrote it and realized i didn't want everyone to know he's in love with reader i panicked #it's been sitting with the rest of it FOR AGES in google drive #my google drive holds many many secrets lol #me? posting writing short enough to not add a read more? insane

[sailoryooons]

Trick or Treat!🎃

Kit kat+ Frankenstein + The Addams Family!

Happy Haliween!!🕸🎃💜💚

☾ Pairing: Serial Killer! Seokjin x Serial Killer!f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you’ve worked at the upscale grocery store in the northern part of the city, you’ve hated Seokjin. He’s charming and smooth and you’re always fighting for employee of the month. It isn’t until you both show up at a house in the middle of the night that you realize how much you have in common. 

☾ Word Count: 3,245

☾ Genre: Enemies to Lovers(ish), Slasher, A little humor

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Thoughts about murder, references to murder, reflection on being a murderer - literally, this is a drabble about two serial killers, they do not actually commit murder in this but literally the entire subject is MURDER!! Like reader thinks about killing people multiple times, this is disturbing but not necessarily graphic, and there are overall just. Themes of insanely morally corrupt people. Also contains explicit language, breaking into homes, knives and threats, stalking, prepping to murder someone, profiling people to be victims, sexual tension, and implications. Ambiguous ending, we don’t know if they kill their victim. 

☾ Published: October 8, 2023

☾ A/N: I am so sorry if you don’t like strange serial killers to lovers(ish), but for this Haliween trick you have selected Kit Kat + Frankenstein + The Addam's Family which equals Seokjin, Enemies to Lovers, and slasher! I kept this light-hearted and there’s no actual murder or anything, but this is absolutely unhinged and was an experience for me to write from the POV of a killer. I hope you love these two competitive lunatics with zero moral compasses discovering they have more in common than they think! 

☾ A/N 2: Mini shoutout to @minisugakoobies and @daechwitatamic for their input on my ruminating about what to do with this Haliween combination. Their musings inspire this wild little masterpiece and I could not have gotten the brain chugging without their comments. 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests

NOTE: TUMBLR PHYSICALLY WILL NOT LET ME ADD A READ MORE LINK TO THIS EVEN IN HTML, THEREFORE I WILL NOT REBLOG ANY REVIEWS OF THIS FOR THAT REASON AS OF NOV. 27 2023

There are days you wonder if you should kill Seokjin. 

It would be too complicated, though. Not only would someone notice if he doesn’t show up to work, but it’s too close to home. Murders should always be removed. There should be no connections between you and the victim. Anything within seven degrees of separation is far too close.

And everyone knows you hate him. 

Hate the way he charms everyone else so effortlessly. There isn’t a soul at the store who doesn’t like him except maybe you. He is perfect. Not a hair out of place, his handsome features painfully symmetrical and alluring, his ease with people so crystalline that you want to scream. Glasses that are perfectly perched on his perfect nose. Effortlessly chic hair. A knockout mouth structure. 

It’s hard to imagine anyone is that perfect, but it appears Seokjin is. No matter how much digging you do, you never find anything incriminating. There’s nothing. He hardly seems to exist outside of the store. 

You hate him for it. Especially when you see he has beaten you for employee of the month again. Seokjin walks into the break room, looking at the announcement on the board. He smirks when he sees it, eyes coasting over to you. The grin grows and he shrugs. 

“What can I say?”

“Nothing, ideally,” you offer. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

You feel your eye twitch. You imagine how satisfying it would be to smash his teeth in. To feel the bone break beneath your foot, to hear the crunch.

The thought of it makes you smile and turn to him, suddenly calm again. “Congratulations, Seokjin. I look forward to celebrating with you during our meeting.”

Tying an apron around your waist, you leave the break room and head out onto the floor. Your calm intensifies, muscles loosen. The store is not open yet. Outside, the world is gray. The fluorescent lights shine down on the perfectly lined aisles, every item in place. Above, soft music plays. 

Mornings at the grocery store like this are second only to the high of watching the light fade from someone’s eyes. Here, you are alone and in peace. You feel the quiet of the world, undisturbed. Like a god walking through the land of their creation while everything is asleep. 

But it’s when you see someone looking at you as they embrace death that you know you are a god. You are the final thing they see, and right before they fade, they see you as their ender. Their maker. 

Seokjin might be able to take the employee of the month from you, but he cannot have this. These two moments. Different sides of the same coin. He could never understand the power that peace and death give you.

No one else understands. No one else could. 

-

When the store opens, your day unfolds. It is an upscale grocery store with organic foods, fresh pressed juice and swollen, ripe strawberries. You see all manner of people come in and out: assistants doing the shopping for their wealthy employers, socialites snapping pictures of their smoothies and juices, the upper class toting name-brand bags and watches as they hand over metal credit cards.

It is disgusting, in a way. But in your way, it’s become beautiful. A hunting ground for people who jet around the world so often, no one will know if they go missing. You’re always so so careful with your marks. They have to be right. Perfect. You have to spend weeks making sure they are the one. 

The one problem with this ritual is how long it takes. The need to feel that power and the need for safety and caution wage a war inside of you, neither giving ground to the other. It’s been months since you’ve had a fix, and with Seokjin’s employee of the month win, you know it’s time to sift through your options. 

Your list is small. The sweet, doe-eyed boy Jungkook is an easy mark in the sense that he has a very small social circle, his life is built on routine, and he is wildly trusting. Because of his routine, though, he might present a problem when he goes missing. That, and he is physically a danger to you if you don’t knock him out first. 

Taehyung isn’t bad, either. He comes and goes, traveling the world and staying in hostels, losing his passports across countries and sharing all of his travels on social media. He lives loosely enough that if he vanished, it would take a while for anyone to find him. But that social media feed of his would eventually attract attention. 

When Hoseok gets into your line, you feel your heart stutter. Perfect Hoseok. He is quiet and solitary, a fashion designer who often vanishes for long periods at a time. He doesn’t leave his quiet, lofty mansion in the hills often when he is in a fit of designing for a new season, and he is prone to hospitalizations for working himself near to death.

Perfect Hoseok, who smiles like Apollo and smells like the sun. He is an entity. A light that you cannot help but stare at. And you decide him. What would it be like, to see someone like Hoseok look at you and beg. Please. Like you’re his god. The only thing between him and death.

Your palms get sweaty as your line shortens. He’s just four back - it’s a busy day - but you try to get through your customers quickly. You want to make small talk with him. To get his weekend plans. 

And then Seokjin steps into the register next to you even though he’s supposed to be on break, and he turns the light on. “Hoseok! Come on over, let’s get you through.” 

Rage. You stop ringing up items. The conveyor belt hums and the products on top of it begin to pile up. White noise roars in your ears. You watch as Hoseok gets out of your line and swaps to Seokjin’s. They shake hands and start talking, Seokjin leaning back with a laugh. 

High-pitched ringing sings in your ears as you watch Seokjin bag Hoseok’s items and offer to walk him out to the car after flicking the light off at his register. 

“Ma’am?” You blink and the ringing vanishes. The man in front of you stares, raising his brows. His cat-like eyes are sharp and concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, voice suddenly dry. It’s a lie. “Yeah.”

-

“Do you like stealing my customers?” you ask Seokjin, pressing the knife down hard through the apple you’re cutting at the break room counter. “Is that how you got employee of the month? Turning on your light to ring up one person and then fucking off?”

“Ooo,” Seokjin answers, closing the fridge with his hip. “We are still touchy about my great awards, are we?”

“You know that was a bitch move.” You slam the knife down on the cutting board. It’s a Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife, which is wildly obnoxious for cutting fruit. And, you realize belatedly, it’s from Seokjin’s personal collection. You file it away, wondering what he knows about good knives. “Stay the fuck away from my business when I’m working.”

“Hoseok isn’t yours.” 

His tone makes you look up. Seokjin’s demeanor shifts, a chameleon adapting to a hostile environment. The telltale signs of his true annoyance are all there: red ears, vacant eyes, blank face. His shark face. You see it so rarely that it shocks you to see it now. 

It’s in moments like this where… he is almost your mirror. 

“He was in my line.”

“Funny how that isn’t the same thing.” 

“Customer poaching is desperate.” You pick the knife back up and slice through the apple, hearing the crisp, wet crunch like breaking a bone to get to marrow. “Are you that desperate, Jin?”

From the corner of your eye, you see his fingers twitch. For a split second, you think he might grab the knife. A flutter of excitement runs through you, unfettered. You wait to see what he does, holding your breath as you slowly turn to look at him. 

Is he going to do it? 

The moment clings to the air a moment longer. Then Namjoon opens a shelf and spills several boxes of granola, shattering the weaving tension between you and Seokjin. He takes a step back and you turn back toward your fruit, knife abandoned.

When he leaves, a shiver runs up your spine, quite unsure what that was. 

You also think that perhaps Seokjin is... more attractive than you give him credit for.

-

Two weeks. You tap through your phone, lighting up your face in the dark of your room. Hoseok will begin his descent into designing for his Spring collection in two weeks. It’s the perfect amount of time to prepare yourself, to begin the ritual of hunting. To watch, notate, and practice. 

You hit the button to turn off the lock screen and you’re bathed in darkness. 

Two weeks and you can feel the rush again.

Two weeks and you’ll be fed on the high for months. 

-

Not even Seokjin can get you down at work. You look at your time requested off on the calendar every morning you clock in. A blissful spread of days in which you’ll need to prepare, execute, and come down for the euphoria before coming back to work.

No amount of goading from Seokjin can upset you this week. You are locked in. Focused. So honed on your rapidly approaching desire that nothing can bring you down.

-

“Switch weekends with me,” Seokjin says, stepping in front of you before you can clock out. It’s late, both of you staying overtime to help unload a late shipment. You growl at him and try to jockey him out of the way, but he’s like iron. He doesn’t move. “I need that weekend off.”

“No.” Seokjin’s stance grows firmer. You push him again but he is unmovable, making your lip curl. You slowly start to drag your eyes to his, where he is pouting. “Move or I will make you.”

“That’s the best reaction I’ve gotten from you all week. What plans do you have, huh? A date night with a bubble bath and a vibrator?”

You frown. He isn’t entirely wrong. The need to lay in warm water in a post-kill daze and bring yourself to an orgasm is part of the after routine. Still, you manage to shove him aside and punch in your number.

“Please,” he says gently. “I need the weekend.”

“No. Not for you. Not in a million years.” 

“What do you want? I’ll trade you anything.”

You face him after clocking out, giving him a wonderful smile. “You have nothing to offer me, Jin. I know you’re not used to hearing that.” 

Slowly, Seokjin’s face changes. He goes from charming and warm and melts into something else. Ice in a glass, losing its form and weak attempt at holding false shape. 

“You’re lucky we work together,” Seokjin murmurs. There is something dark in his voice. An abyss you’ve never heard from Seokjin, but you’ve touched yourself. It is the secret, dark voice of threat. Of promise. And then he grins, shrugging. “I guess I’ll ask around. Have fun with your sex toys.”

You watch Seokjin walk out and all you can think about is that low voice. That darkness. Like the thing that lives inside of you. 

-

One day. Hoseok has locked himself away. His social media has gone quiet. You watch as the trash cans go without being taken out. No one comes. No one goes. The only light that remains on is the one in his second-floor office. Hoseok comes outside a single time to look at the rain as it comes down hard on a Thursday before going back inside and not coming out again. 

Tomorrow. 

You watch the office light go off at five in the morning.

Tomorrow. 

-

Making a murder look like an accident is not easy. It is your least favorite method, in fact. You prefer people who vanish. A ghost is harder to trace than an accident. There are too many questions involved. 

Hoseok, though, cannot be a ghost. You knew that when you picked him. You haven’t orchestrated an accident in some time, but you will now. 

Hoseok likes to drink. He likes to fuel his designs with so much whiskey that sometimes he falls asleep in his office with the lights on at his desk, glass full. Other times, he crashes into furniture and knocks it over, shattering lamps and slipping down the stairs to get to his bedroom. 

Tonight, you have everything you need. A little bit of Xanax, which he has a prescription for. A little bit of chloroform to help knock him out. Epinephrine for you to give you a carefully measured and tested boost of adrenaline and strength. Gloves. Wrapped shoes. A list of all the blind spots in his alarm system and its codes. 

Crickets sing to you as you watch. You walked the full three hours to his home tonight. It was nice with the rush of cars around you and the crunch of your shoes on gravel. Once in the hills, you meticulously changed your clothes at a gas station, wiping off sweat and grime before taking the fifteen-minute trek into the lower hills where Hoseok lives. 

Light pollution makes it hard to see the stars, but the world stretches out beyond you as you stand in the murky darkness of an unsold home across the street. For the past two weeks, you have been an impromptu gargoyle perched among the trees. 

Hoseok should be happy he will not be around when someone moves in. The trees that offer the home privacy offer an entire vantage point to watch him through his uncurtained home. Even just climbing to other limbs gives you a view of other windows. Other ways in. 

The way in though, is easiest through the backyard where his spa room leads outside to the pool. The spa door has no camera and is in the blind spot for the camera under the patio pavilion. It additionally is rarely locked, a feature of Hoseok’s home he rarely uses. 

It takes five minutes to get from the spa bathroom to the office. His stairs are well-made and don’t squeak. He leaves no other lights on. It will be just you and the dark. 

You look at your watch. It’s four in the morning. For the past few days, Hoseok has gone to bed at five. He’s made it all three days in a row, not falling asleep at his desk. Tonight, he will do the same thing. He will get up, turn the lights out, and head to his bedroom. 

Except this time, you plan to be in the hall. A little chloroform. A little forced Xanax to make him weak when he wakes up and prevent him from fighting back. A jolt of adrenaline for you and a snap of his neck before he falls down the stairs and-

A shadow crosses the wall of Hoseok’s yard. You straighten in the tree, watching it make its way across the yard toward the back. Without even thinking about it, you move. The thought of someone breaking into the house and killing Hoseok by accident and stealing your high makes you bolt.

Your heart hammers. Your hands get sweaty. This isn’t how your night is supposed to go. You’re up and over the wall and sliding along the glass windows as you walk toward the spa bathroom door in a heartbeat. You feel rattled and out of sorts - not at all what you should be feeling on a night like this. 

Any other time, you might call it quits. Should call it quits. 

But you don’t. It’s been so long and Hoseok has been taking from you once this month already. You cannot let it happen again.

Like a shadow, you slide into the home. It is cold inside. Already you’re working out how to factor in another person. You had not intended to stage a home invasion, but the third person is a liability and a threat. You’ve never taken two at once before, and though the promise of what that might feel like makes you giddy, you also don’t know the math of this. You don’t know what this looks like.

And still you creep forward. 

Hoseok’s house is modern art. It is all sleek edges and warm tones washed in art on the walls and sculptures. Thankfully, it is also big and full of negative space. Nothing gets in your way as you creep up the stairs, eyes swiveling back and forth as you look for where the intruder has gone.

When you get to the top of the stairs, the hair on the back of your neck tingles. You swivel, bringing up your hand just as a knife stops in front of your face, only restricted by the iron grip you have on your assailant's wrist. You know the make of it immediately. It’s a Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife.

Neither of you move. You cannot make the features on your attacker's face. Slowly, you see their other arm come up. You somewhat see they are holding up a hand. A white flag. Trembling, you loosen your grip on their knife arm, your other hand wrapped firmly around the hunting knife sheathed at your thigh. 

Together, you step away from Hoseok’s office door. One step. Two steps. A waltz backward and toward a guest room, where the door opens and you step inside with your opposite. Friend. Foe. You’re unsure. 

Moonlight filters through the window and your counterpart steps backward into it. 

Your breath catches in your chest and the urge to laugh suddenly takes you, swelling up so abruptly that you have to press your lips firmly shut to stop the madness from spilling out.

Seokjin looks good in all black, standing in the gray light of the moon. His shark eyes stare at you, face blank, waiting. The Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife is still in his hand. It doesn’t shake. He holds it loose. Casual. A fast striker, you think. 

“What a strange thing,” Seokjin whispers. “To see someone so unlike me be my very mirror. What are you doing here?”

“It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain,” you whisper back, recalling a quote from The Tell-Tale Heart. “But once conceived, it haunted me day and night.”

He hums. “They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

Hoseok opens the door in his office. You both freeze, listening to his stumbling steps as he clambers down his stairs. Not a sound slips between you as Hoseok shuts the bedroom door downstairs. 

The silence is roaring.

“What well it be,” Seokjin whispers. “Friend or foe?” 

You tap the handle of your knife. “I want to be employee of the month next month. Try less.” 

“What do you like to do after?” 

“What was it you said? Take a bubble bath with a vibrator?” 

He sheaths the knife and offers a hand. “I can give you more.”

You carefully hold out a hand to him. Not an enemy. Not a friend. Perhaps… an equal. “We are the same, then?” 

“A mirror.” He pulls you in a little, just enough that his mouth brushes against yours. You want to take that dive suddenly. To lean into him. Past atrocities are forgotten in light of this new, beautiful darkness you share. “A mirror.” 

You descend the steps together, two workers from the store. And a little more. 

#seokjin fic #jin fic #bts fic #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x you #jin x you #jin drabble #seojin thriller #seokjin imagines #jin imagines #haliween #minors do not interact #minors dni

[lovelyunholyc]

happy birthday, satan <3

!! nsfw !! minors, blank, ageless blogs will be blocked !!

afab! reader, use of pet names (darling, my love, good girl). soft, loving sex, fingering, praise, no dynamics (just luv :’)), unprotected sex. (if i missed anything pls let me know)

you whisper it out into the darkness of your room, staring unseeingly at the ceiling above you, wide awake despite your best efforts, hoping for your lover's support.

"satan, are you still awake?"

silence for a moment. you almost feel guilty, wanting him to join you in your misery of being exhausted but somehow unable to rest properly. you'd both worked equally hard, after all, sorting through the piles of books in one corner of his room that had started to prevent the door from opening all the way - you were the one who'd insisted on organizing them and giving away extraneous titles, an arduous task you know he'd only agreed on (though still, rather begrudgingly), because it was you who'd suggested it.

no matter how clever, or tough, or unbothered he tried to appear, satan is always ever soft for you, the only being in existence who could bring him to his knees in no more than a breath.

just before your heart can sink in your chest and you can retreat further into your sheets, reluctant to disturb him any longer, he shifts the slightest bit, signaling his wakefulness (in a capacity as yet unknown to you). his thumb begins to soothe into the skin on your hip, where his hand rests, his body still curled sweetly over yours.

you really should let him rest, but you can't help yourself now that you know he's somewhat still lucid, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "darling?"

"my love," he all but hums, barely parting his lips to get the words out. the gruff sound of it makes warmth stir deep in your chest. "why aren't you sleeping?"

he has the audacity to sound slightly irked - but it's too late, your energy's only growing, and any trace of guilt for possibly waking him has disappeared. you turn to face him, displacing your comfortable positions and making him groan deeper (though that sound is not unappreciated). "it's your fault for letting me nap for too long!"

satan doesn't tell you that he couldn't dream of waking you when you'd fallen asleep on the floor in his room, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books and one even still in your hand, because he'd taken one glance at the scene before him and nearly shed a tear at the emotion that welled up within him, at seeing the things he loved the most in such a serene, contented way. instead, he finally peels his eyes open just so you can watch them roll at you. the green practically glitters even in the darkness, making you grin - you're always taken aback by the beauty of his eyes, breathtaking as they are - the only thing you love more than gazing into them is riling him up, poking and prodding at his patience to get a rise out of him.

as a result, he truly surprises you in only the best ways.

"will you help me fall asleep again?" you ask innocently enough, expecting him to suggest continuing where he'd left off in reading aloud the novel he's in the middle of once more.

instead, satan smirks, you can just make out the lovely curve of it in the low light of the moon streaming in through a crack in your curtain. his eyes glint mischievously in the dark as he surges toward you, touching his lips to your shoulder and trailing them up the line of it, up to your neck, beneath your jaw. it makes you shiver, makes your heart start to race, fingers automatically coming up to grasp at his soft blonde hair.

he finally reaches your lips to find them smiling, and he pecks sweetly at them and nips gently, a silent request for you to part for him. he hums, satisfied, when you comply instantly, licking at your lips before slipping his tongue between them, his movements languid, savoring your taste. his tongue twists around yours before he lets you part for breath, nibbling at your bottom lip once more.

he takes a moment to admire his handiwork, how quickly he'd turned you into putty in his hands, panting after him with stars in your eyes.

he is irrevocably weak for you, that is undeniable, but that didn't mean you were unaffected by him in turn.

"turn around for me, darling," satan says softly, and your breath hitches, the low cadence of his voice going straight to your core.

he props himself up on his elbow as he guides you to flip onto your other side, your back flush with his chest. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, steady and comforting through the fabric of his shirt you wear, stolen to use as pajamas. his arm snakes around your waist, slides up the hem of it, long, lovely fingers tracing delicate shapes into the skin of your stomach. he tucks his chin into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, presses kisses into your jaw before whispering, his breath tickling your ear and making you shudder, "i think this is the most effective way to wind you down, isn’t it?"

those fingers slide down your stomach, slip beneath the band of your underwear smoothly. "satan," you nearly whimper as he rubs at your clit and parts your folds, already wet just from his kiss alone.

"spread your legs a bit more, my love," he instructs gently, sending shivers down your spine. you twist to place your outer knee on the bed, allowing him better access between your legs, to which he takes advantage of instantly - his middle finger slides easily through your slit before venturing further, circling your hole. "good girl."

you call his name again and he chuckles lowly, slips his digit past the ring of muscle, down to the knuckle. your hands clutch desperately, one beneath your pillow and the other behind you to tangle into his hair, when he slides in another finger and scissors them before he starts pumping, the heel of his palm rubbing purposely into your clit. "such a good girl for me, so beautiful."

"ah, fuck, satan," you're whining, squirming in his iron grip, one of his legs tangling with yours to further pin you in place as your hips buck into his hand, his pace unhurried, enjoying you unraveling beneath him far too much.

though soon enough, you can feel his own excitement start to press into your thigh.

in a matter of minutes the pleasure rising deep within you starts to crest, each drag of his fingers pulling whimpers and moans of profound arousal from you. "satan, please-" you cry, and his own growing arousal prompts him to take mercy on you this time. he crooks his fingers in just the way he knows you like, pads of them ruthless against that sweet spot inside you, his palm pressing tightly to your clit even as you start to shudder and shake away from the friction becoming overwhelming.

"cum for me, darling, let me feel you," he nips into your ear, and you nearly sob.

as if on command, the wave of pleasure he'd been building swiftly breaks over you, and you cling to him and the sheets beneath you - anything in reach. you gasp his name like a prayer as you gush into the palm of his hand, hips stuttering in time with his movements, the altogether obscene sound of his skin smacking into your slick ringing around the room as he lets you ride your orgasm out, steady and relentless.

satan noses lovingly at your hair, the side of your face, your jaw, as you tremble gently in his hold. you come down slowly, to his fingers slipping out of you and sweeping between your folds carefully, appreciatively, your cunt pulsing once more when he brushes against your sensitive clit. the muscles in your legs are twitching, and the restless energy you had before is replaced with a dull yet deep sense of satisfaction in your gut, making your eyes and your limbs pleasurably heavy.

you suppose he'd been right.

you flip onto your back with a wide, dazed smile on your face, watching your lover through adoring half-lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean and smirks. he dips his head to capture your lips and you welcome him eagerly, let him steal your breath just as you recover it.

"i love you," you whisper, breathless with adoration, struggling the words past the kisses he plucks from you, sweet and altogether irresistible. satan cradles your face in one hand, gentle as ever, yet the way he tastes from you is hungry, as if he can't get enough. you tug at his shirt until he slides it up and off, seek out the skin and muscle beneath it, the heat of it under your palms intoxicating. "want you, baby, please," you nip at him, beginning to get impatient at his unhurried movements and the emptiness his fingers had left behind, sliding your hand down between his legs to paw at the prominent bulge beneath his pants.

satan chuckles, eyes like emeralds glittering with equal parts mischief and lust. "my darling's so needy tonight, hm?" he teases, nudges his nose with yours, but you can see even in the low light that he's blushing furiously, hips inadvertently pressing into your hand.

you can only roll your eyes, lean in and tease him right back, graze your teeth along his earlobe until he shivers, your voice low and sultry. "only for you, my love."

something stirs in his chest, deep and desirous, spills out in a groan so heavy it sounds more like a growl, and it spurs you on, makes you nearly giddy with adoration and want.

satan is open with his love for you, abundant even, but it still takes him by surprise when you remind him you love him just as ardently, passionate and fierce in a way he could have only ever dreamed of attaining, especially from someone as wonderful as you.

it's all you need to shove his pants down his thighs, suddenly desperate to see him, feel him, nearly frantic. satan just laughs breathlessly - he can't deny your impatience, he feels just the same, like he'd fall to pieces if he didn't feel you around him anytime soon. he doesn't miss the way you lick your lips when you watch his leaking cock bob against his abdomen, your eyes glowing with a hunger that makes him feel raw and just as desperate. you always look at him anew, as if you haven't seen him naked countless times, as if you haven't memorized the places he likes to be touched, the way he likes to be handled.

you don't even have the tolerance to take your own underwear off, hitching your leg over his waist and curling over his body to press your hips together and forcing him happily on to his back as you straddle him, the tiny scrap of fabric now the only barrier between you and all but soaked with both of your juices. satan slips his hand between your bodies to shove the gusset to the side just as you line him up to your entrance, neither of you paying any mind to the sound of fabric being ripped when he accidentally applies more force than he means to. you nearly whimper when the head of his cock rubs against your clit, glides through your slick folds until finally, he slides home.

you moan in unison at the slow, gratifying stretch, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs around his waist, yours at his shoulder and the pillow beside his head.

"oh, fuck, sweetheart," satan breathes, his voice cracking in disbelief. "you're so... so tight." you gasp out what could be loosely interpreted as laughter, the feel of him inside you making your chest too tight with pleasure to qualify for much more.

despite being a demon, thriving on sin and debauchery, satan hardly curses. he sees it as uncouth, often uncreative and only necessary in certain situations. language was endless, he knew that more than anyone, so there certainly were better alternatives for most of them.

with you, however, every thought and belief he holds seems to fall to the wayside, nothing on his mind except the sweet pressure of your slick walls around his throbbing cock, the warmth of your chest against his own when you lean in because you can hardly hold yourself up - his chest always swells with pride to rival lucifer's at that, how only he can make you feel so good you nearly lose yourself.

strong hands come up to grasp at your hips and guide you into a slow grind, electricity jolting through your body when you sink down gradually and take him to the hilt, and the base of his cock massages into your oversensitive clit. "you're so good to me, beautiful," he manages, grinning drowsily when you shift to cradle his face in your hands, smiling just as dazedly, pressing lazy kisses to his face until he lifts his head and catches your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

"y-yeah? feels good?" you try to tease, but your voice breaks, as breathy as it already is with arousal, and he chuckles, brushes away hair sticking to your forehead and letting his hand linger so he can slide his thumb along your bottom lip, slick with both of your saliva and swollen from his teeth, he's sure.

"always, gorgeous," he affirms with a lopsided grin, squeezing at your ass playfully with his free hand and feeling you clench around him in response. "always."

you rock against him sweetly, rolling your hips steadily, impatience wearing away now that you have him exactly where you need him, savoring the slow drag of his cock along your walls, splitting you open so nicely.

satan can't stop touching you, elegant fingers caressing along your skin, tickling and pressing and gripping at where you're softest just to hear you hum in satisfaction, feel you twitch and shiver and moan, arching into him to greedily press more of yourself into his touch. his hands slide back and forth beneath your shirt, cup at your breasts and pinch at your nipples, squeeze at the delicious curve of your waist. he holds the hem of the fabric up to your sternum just to watch you move, mesmerized at how equally lewd and yet so beautiful the scene before him is - the deep, purposeful stroke of your hips as your needy cunt swallows down the thickness of his shaft, down to the base and back again, the pretty arc of your spine when the swollen tip nudges at your sweet spot, the way your walls clench and pulse, hugging him so perfectly.

satan thinks this, among other things, is evidence that you were made for him.

he loves how responsive you are to him, how wholly you give yourself to him, how openly you show it. he loves how soft and hot and lovely your lips feel along his skin, how you tease him with gentle grazes of your teeth on his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, just to make him groan, make him squeeze his hands around whatever part of you he's holding.

"i love you," it spills from his lips and straight into yours when he brings you back up to his face with a gentle hand at the nape of your neck, his chest tight, heart pouring his adoration into his words. you relax into his touch, eyes dazzling, lips turning up at the corners, and he could swear you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, even looking as wrecked as he feels. "so dearly," he finishes against your mouth when you tilt your head down to kiss him again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before his tongue slides in, dances along with yours.

you pull away only to breathe, nipping down along the line of his jaw to reach his ear, to murmur his name against his pretty skin.

every touch from you, every whisper of your breath against him sears his skin, fills him with emotion.

and when he jerks his hips up almost involuntarily, drawn by your own irresistible movements, and you whine so high and melodious, he swears he internally explodes.

in one smooth motion satan shifts you onto your back without detaching from you, caging you in between his arms. a slow smile breaks onto his lips as he takes a moment just to admire you, the way your hair splays out around your head like a halo against the mess of pillows behind you, the way your eyes seem to overflow with desire, with love, leaking out in tiny droplets at the corners, shining in your irises. “so good to me,” he repeats, because he still simply cannot seem to believe it, “so beautiful.” satan kisses your nose in a gesture so innocent compared to what you’d been applying so far that it makes you giggle, only to be cut off abruptly when he undulates his hips.

satan groans, so rich and guttural you feel it vibrate through you from his chest. you clutch and claw at his back as he moves, taking hold of your thigh against his waist and circling his hips, digging deeper, making you cry out in response. “so beautiful,” he continues through gritted teeth, syllables breaking off between gasped breaths, melting into you and molding you to him, finding his pace and that spot inside you that makes you keen, that makes you scratch and pull at him because it overwhelms you.

“satan, satan- !!” where you were slowly building your pleasure from him snowballs soon enough, and you can feel your orgasm creeping in much faster. you plead with him, though you aren’t sure what for, your mind growing hazy and your hands clutching at his back and hugging him close, chest to chest, your hips moving on their own, stuttering up to meet him.

he can feel your walls start to spasm around him and he half-smiles, knows you’re close, presses messy kisses along your face and your open mouth just as he slips one hand between your bodies. his fingers find your clit with practiced ease, and he rubs the bundle of nerves harshly between the pads of them, slowing his hips to carve even deeper into you.

you reach your second peak so rapidly, so forcefully you think you see stars. white spots into your vision and you grasp onto your lover for dear life as he carries you over the edge and holds you there, pinning you in place with strong hands and the unwavering determination to please you as much as he's able.

"satan, fuck, i love you, i love you," you're babbling, not sure what you're saying but knowing your sentiment to be true, overcome with nothing but pleasure and your love for him, nerves singed and heart hammering in your chest.

satan isn't much better off, gasping at the tight squeeze of your perfect, perfect pussy, how your walls pulsate around his cock and make him start to lose control of his careful momentum. "fuck, darling, i-" you hug him close to your chest, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing against his own. "i love you, too," he mumbles it into your skin, and he thinks he sounds a little drunk, the words uncharacteristically slurred together. the thought is distant to him in the moment, however, as he pistons into the tight heat of your cunt, driven by the urgent sweep of his own pleasure catching up to him.

it's dizzying, the frenzied way he's moving, like he can't get enough of you - (and he never can) - but you urge him on with a gentle tug to the roots of his hair that elicits the loveliest moan from him, your walls twitching around him in response, in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

it only takes a few more careful strokes for him to come undone, gasping your name into your hair as he sheathes himself fully inside you and spills into your needy cunt, shivers wracking through his body. you can't help but gasp at the feel of him coating your inner walls, at the delicious throb of his cock, how he fills you.

satan partly collapses over you, hardly able to support himself as the pleasure jolts through him in waves, and you accept him easily, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings as his thrusts grow sloppy and gradually fall into a slow grind. you gasp and moan along with him when his pelvis nudges insistently into your swollen clit, can't help but squirm and writhe beneath him at the oversensitivity, at the stickiness leaking out between your bodies.

when he eventually rides out his orgasm and falls fully into your arms, you're soothing your fingers into his scalp, tracing random patterns into the smooth skin of his back.

the sudden urge to yawn rises from your chest, and you can't seem to stop it, so you give in easily, starting to feel the aftermath.

satan feels it from where he's laying on your chest and chuckles, shaking you both gently.

"i think i can sleep now," you quip, and he lifts his head to smile at you, looking every bit as charming and handsome as usual even with his hair as messy as you've made it.

"don't you dare let my hard work go to waste," he replies, and pecks at your lips, can't seem to resist and comes back for another, before he parts and pulls out carefully, hissing at the loss of your wet heat, the sensitivity, and pulls his pants back up.

his eyes gloss over and he bites back a groan at the sight of his cum dripping out of your hole, how your skin glistens with how wet he'd left you.

if he didn't know how much you truly needed to rest, he would've pushed it back in, as much as he could, and worshipped you with his tongue.

instead he kisses a line down from your chin, sliding the hem of your shirt up to continue his way between your breasts (taking a detour to press chaste kisses below each swell), over your stomach, until he reaches the crux of your thighs and what's left of your underwear (which is then tossed carelessly across the bed) - and presses an innocent kiss to your clit just to make your breath catch. he grins and sits up to find his discarded shirt to wipe you down before coming back up to your open arms.

you're giggling when he kisses you again, settling into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"i'm sorry i woke you up, satan."

"oh, darling," he chuckles into your hair, doesn't say he'd let you keep him awake for as long as you could ever want. "i'm not."

#obey me satan #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan smut #om! satan #om satan #om! satan x reader #om satan x reader #satan smut #satan x reader #obey me smut #om smut #om x reader #om satan smut #om! satan smut #might b ooc but o well this was a small thing tht got out of hand and i got sick of writing it !! wanna b done !! #i wanted to include his bday in it since it was insp by the feels his events were giving me lmao #but i forgot and im tiiiired #ten.writes #satan #nsfw.

[lackablazeical]

I'm kinda new to this au (I first saw it on ao3), do you have like a rundown of what exactly it is? lore and such? I'm super interested in this au jut i have 0 idea what the story is lmao

Since the masterpost is taking so long I'm editing a previously made post as a placeholder until the ACTUAL masterpost is finished enough to post

As for what the AU is, it's meant to be a horror/comedy but that also tackles dark themes in a (hopefully) well-written way. It's meant to take rottmnt and twist it much darker, and just to be something enjoyable to those who like spooky and disturbing things!

With that disturbing things mentioned, this AU also has a lot of TWs, including (but not limited to): underage drinking/smoking, violence, experimentation/abuse of animals and humanoid beings, dubious/no consent to activities such as kissing or cuddling, disassociation, toxic relationships, stalking, self harm, slut-shaming, useage of queer slurs, and more. Be careful with this one!

Also with that: this AU is not meant to glorify, romanticize, or endorse any of these relationships, warnings, or characters behavior. I do not want anyone finding the relationships cute, thinking they are redeemable, etc. None of my content is meant to be taken that way, it is not created to be sexual/suggestive, etc etc. These are MINORS. In ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS. don't be gross.

Lore is iffy in this AU, especially future canon. So good luck and I am sorry lol

Basically, for the Hamatos:

Splinters backstory goes the same, just he was also involved in the yakuza. Him and BM reconnected and ended up together when the boys were young (Raph was 11, L & D were 10, Mike was 9). Mikey starts going/working at the Nexus around this time, and drinking too. I Want to say the gang met April when she was 9 (so R8, LD7, M6) and they do shenanigans for a while. Leo meets Usagi at 16, goes wild.

The foot/kraang in this world are not exactly a threat, as the Hamatos themselves own the key and a large part of the Armour. None of them know what it is or does.

Usagis backstory:

READ USAGI'S BACKSTORY HERE.

Leo and Usagi are a 'romantic' relationship of the dynamic of stalker and victim. Usagi is a victim to Leo, who is obsessive, can't understand 'no', etc etc. Usagi is codependent further into their relationship. They are forever toxic, this will not change.

Donnie and Ishida aren't romantic, but still a toxic dynamic of sadist and masochist. Ishida wants to feel pain to 'prove' himself, Donnie provides and studies. I may use the term Donnida for these too, but again, not romantic. They are close friends.

Mikey and Kenichi ('Michi') are probably the most functional of the 3 dynamics. They are friends by circumstance, but find they both bond over their hatred of 'Leosagi' and often enjoy gossiping/shit talking together. They also play fight occasionally.

Characters such as Draxum, Evil league of mutants, Cassandra, and Mona Lisa all exist as well!!!!@ tumblr just has a FUCKING IMAGE LIMIT.

Draxum isn't close with the boys, and he works with BM closely. Only Mikey and Don are aware of the fact he made them.

Cassandra is still with the Foot, crushing on April hard, etc etc.

I promise I'm working on the masterpost, I'm just slow and. A little stupid

#addams! tmnt au #rottmnt au #addams! usagi #addams! leosagi #addams! leo #addams! mikey #addams! donnie #addams! raph #addams! april #addams! ishida #addams! chizu #addams! kenichi #addams! miyamotos #addams! lore post

[yojeongin]

happy together | m.l + l.dh [PART 1]

→husband!lee haechan x reader x bff!mark lee

genre: smut, angst, hurt, marriage au, love triangle, forbidden affair, friends to secret lovers, 90s au

synopsis: mark’s life is crumbling all around him too rapidly while the married life isn’t what either you and hyuck expected. taking in your husband’s best friend was meant to bring you good karma but all his presence is doing is stir the pot and worsen the cracks in each relationship. 

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! toxic marriage, mutual infidelity, morally grey characters, fingering, breast play, unprotected sex, car sex, oral sex (f receiving), spit kink, pet names, public sex, riding, smoking, reckless driving, mention of pet death

wc: 22.9k+  || soundtrack || ao3

finale | epilogue

© 2022 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

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

an: look at that, a yojeongin update !! I enjoyed writing this too much so I hope you guys like it. btw if you want to be tagged for part 2 just lmk or fill out the taglist form in my masterlist; btw im sorry its so long 😭 I try to shorten them but they each get increasingly longer; a playlist for this does exist so listen it please <3 spotify in my masterlist

Mark never expected his life to crumble at such an early age. It was all falling out of place so rapidly that he didn’t really know what to do. 

One second he was his college prodigy, opening exhibition after exhibition, and next he’s wheeling out suitcase after suitcase from this grimy taxi that he could barely afford last minute. The odor of rotting deli meats suffocating him the longer the car ride became.

Struggling to get them out of the car as the driver refused to even look his way, Mark cursed under his breath at how useless someone could be. But he bit his tongue as the words of his own father calling him such, rang through his ears. Perhaps he was right all along and his words were rather a prophecy than a silly scolding at the time. 

The pavement was littered with puddles of rain and the sky threatened to make more droplets fall so once all of his items were out of the car, Mark made his way towards the well kept building, reciprocating the neglect of the driver. As he drove off some puddle water splashed onto his shoes making the young man grunt in frustration. 

Life was only getting worse. 

The lobby was cold and brightly lit, almost too clean but he only dirtied it with his wet shoes dragging to the elevator. A trail of his mistakes following him around. He was freezing inside but with the note on the elevator doors reading that it was broken, Mark would surely warm up with his walk up all those stairs to the fifth floor carrying all his suitcases. 

After some inner complaining and cursing, Mark simply sighed, feeling his brain begin to swirl in frustration as he looked everywhere to find the staircase. The receptionist was of no help, slumped over the desk and intensely staring at the small television perched on the top counter, a drama in a language he couldn’t quite grasp, taking her entire attention. 

Tiresomely, Mark finally arrived to the fifth floor, pearls of sweat decorating his pretty face and the sound of labored panting slipping through his parted lips. He could barely open the door to the floor but he managed to do so even with all the luggage handles in one hand, threatening to slip and fall down the staircase. Almost like his life. 

Life was only playing joke after joke as the minute he managed to pull off the suitcases in front of him, the elevator dinged. Its doors opened widely, almost as if it was in a rush to kick out the couple that had disturbed its peaceful area. 

Their loud bantering could make anyone feel crazy and at this state right now, Mark was the most easily affected. 

“So now I’m crazy because I’m telling you that that bitch coworker of yours keeps flirting with you?” Your chuckle was anything but playful and joyous like he’d heard before. Trailing behind you, his best friend had nothing but a tired sunken look along with the anger that was bubbling up because of you alone. 

“You’re crazy in general, you don’t have to bring her up for me to know you are.” 

Mockery was delivered by the hazel haired boy that pulled at those same strands, feeling like he was pulling patches. His steps became harsher and louder to catch up to you. 

Despite his initial personal frustrations, Mark was at least glad you’d two helped to lighten his mood (argument or not). 

Just as vile spilled from his friend’s lips, your body swung, turning to your husband and taking his left arm onto one of your hands. Your grip tightening just by recalling his words. 

“Don’t fucking call me crazy,” your eyes projected the fiery pits of hell, your burning anger too obvious to try and hide. Boring holes into Haechan’s own eyes and speaking through gritted teeth hoping that he could feel a hot wrath. 

Just as he was to speak, continuing his hate filled words, your eyes averted, finally taking in the figure that stared at both of you dumbfoundedly. 

“Mark!” That seeping anger from just seconds ago had dissipated into thin air, almost as if it had never been there just from seeing an old friend. 

Letting go of your husband, you ran towards his best friend taking him by surprise with the force of your embrace against him. Mark only chuckled as he wrapped his own arms around your waist, pulling you in as tightly as you did him even if he felt gross from his work out up those stairs. 

“Stop hogging him.” Hyuck spoke poutingly, pulling at your arm to let go of his friend. Halfway off him, Hyuck took him into his own embrace, slightly uncomfortable as you refused to let go of the older male. 

“When did you get here?” Hyuck questions, taking some of the suitcases off of Mark’s hands despite his protesting. 

Shaking his head while thanking him, Mark felt your hand slightly squeeze his arm letting him know it was no problem. “Literally just got here actually.” He chuckled not before showing you a tender smile as a thank you. 

With the door finally unlocked, you pushed it widely to let him in. Mark was in awe with the way the apartment was decorated. He knew it was all your doing besides the desk in the corner of the living room that was hidden from view with the kitchen wall. That was surely Hyuck’s.

It was cozy and warm, just the way you always said you wanted your place to be and he was glad that you’d still held this up despite how things seemed to be looking. At least from the occasional letters you’d both write to him for updates.

In fact he still noticed that youthful joy and hope when he looked at you as of now. The pep in your step as you giggled towards the fridge and pulled out a beer for all of you. 

“To celebrate your new exhibition!” Naive too. 

Your smile was so wide and your eyes seemed to show how proud of him you were that he didn’t have in his heart to let you know that his life had gone downhill and his exhibition was a failure. 

You had approached him with a freezing cold bottle to the point your fingers felt numb but you graciously opened it with that silly shark bottle opener with googly eyes that bounced every time a bottle was successfully opened. 

He had given it to you once the three of you had gone to the local fair. A vendor had lent it to him to open a bottle of coke while the three of you had tacos for dinner,he ended up forgetting to give it back. 

Seeing as you had found it adorable on the ride back to his now old apartment, Mark told you to just keep it at that point. 

His eyes followed every movement of your hands, how you tried your best to move as quickly as you could when opening your own. How your hands wiped at the skirt of your dress to gain some warmth but you’d only clamp them together in pain trying to relieve some of it. 

Once you deemed them to be alright to manage, you rushed back to the kitchen followed by Donghyuck’s whining on to why you hadn’t opened his only to be received with a low and angered: “Open it yourself.” Obviously, you were still very much upset with him.   

Mark gave Hyuck a look, jokingly laughing at him for the favoritism displayed. His friend only shoved him playfully before taking the opener into his hands. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to go to the opening. Hyuck worked until late and you know him, I can’t be out late without him. Right, dad?” You teased, turning to glare at your husband as you set down the bowl of seasoned peanuts for Mark to enjoy. Hyuck pretended to mimic you watching as you settled at Mark’s feet right across from him.

Mark continued his silent laughter, taking a chug from his drink while demonstrating the pain the coldness of it was causing in him. “It’s fine, you wouldn’t like it either way. At least others aren’t liking it.” 

Huge disappointment was laced with every word. The critics were getting to him and it was so evident in the way he spoke. With his words you looked at Hyuck questioning what was going on but he gave you no response. 

“What? Why? Your work is amazing.” You comforted him, giving his knee a slight squeeze that was only received with a smile. 

Shifting in his spot making sure to not give you a nudge or kick, he spoke, “It hasn’t really been the best days lately…” his sight shifted from you to his knees. “Some investments went horrible and the exhibition tanked. It’s doing really bad so yeah, everyone has their downfall and I guess this one’s mine.”

Even though he laughed to ease the tension, Mark felt it present in the room. Noting the pout on your face knowing you felt sorry for it, he gave a tight lipped smile. 

“Yeah, so– yeah that’s why I’m really thankful you guys are letting me stay a while here, it means a lot.” Though you never minded if he stayed, you were still confused.

Your face a dead giveaway that was making the male panic slightly. “Stay? Hyuck didn’t say any—“

“Oh… oh shit, I can leave of course,” He rubbed a hand over his face, guilt and embarrassment embroidered in his words. “My bad I didn’t mean to just barge in.”

He chuckled nervously, shifting in a way to stand without disrupting you, yet you rushed to sit besides him, taking his arm into a tight hug while telling him not to.

“No! Oh my God. No!” Desperately you’d plead, Hyuck standing up himself to sit Mark back down, his words drowning in the ocean of your apologies. 

“Nah nah, it’s fine, dude.” He was obviously tired, his eyes trying their best to not shut while trying to calm down his friend. Though drowsy, neither you or Mark missed the harsh glare he threw your way. Almost trying his best to not scold you through gritted teeth.

“I'm sorry, Mark. Hyuck just didn't tell me at all. I would've had the guest room clear for you by now, it’s full of stuff even the bed is gross—“ You stopped to catch your breath, a sigh releasing instead whilst looking at him with pleading apologetic eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Mark. I’ll bring you some covers.” All you mustered was a nervous smile as you scurried off to the guest room for his sheets, leaving the two men alone.

Haechan leaned back on the molding couch, his legs spread enough for a person to sit between, and the perspiration of the bottle seeping through his slacks. The man was gone and tired but even then he tried his best to comfort his best friend. “I’m sorry about her—“ Mark tried cutting him off to no avail. 

“It is my fault I forgot to tell her, I mean you saw how we came home— It’s been rocky so having a normal conversation is so foreign to us now.” Neither expected him to just minimally vent about the marriage but he needed it out. Mark only nodded, uncomfortable and with no advice at hand. 

“But yeah, man— you know y/n loves you, she doesn’t mind you staying at all.” He finally cracked a smile or a laugh during this entire awkward conversation. Mark smiled in return, warm to how much love the two of you had for him.

“Thanks… It’ll be just for a bit, I promise.”

Hyuck shook his head, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it, It’d actually be best if you just stay forever .” 

Mark’s laugh was louder and genuine this time, shaking his head in denial. As of that moment, you had emerged from the guest room.

Your presence alone was draining Hyuck. His laugh faltered and so did his smile, glowering as he sipped on his drink. 

But to Mark it only increased his giddiness, standing up to help you with his blankets and laughing even more when you pulled on your husband’s arm to get him off the larger couch and start arranging the sheets.

He didn’t wait until you finished, Donghyuck just sighed and looked at his surroundings before blurting out that he was heading to bed already in the process of pulling Mark in an embrace again.

You didn’t spare him a glance, smoothing up the cool fabric under your palm. The sound of it louder than the tapping of Haechan’s dress shoes on the cold tile.

Being left with you never felt like a drag, Mark always enjoyed his time with you so this didn’t feel much different when you began to speak. “I imagine you’re drained, huh?” You threw him a glance over your shoulder, shooing his hands away every time he tried to help you.

Mark just nodded, nervously smiling as he pulled his hands back, rubbing it the few times you swatted it. “I-I like the way you decorated the place by the way! Really screams ‘y/n’— it’s nice.” He stuttered, his nose scrunching in embarrassment.

“Thanks…” Your body faced him, words refusing to continue cascading whilst your eyes danced across his features. “It’s really the only thing I got going for myself as of now.” 

He felt his heart shatter the moment your eyes dropped, avoiding his gaze. Mark always knew you to be outspoken and firm on your desires. Before you married his best friend you were an art consultant. Hired by his company to find anything to decorate the dull walls of their building, there Donghyuck found himself drawn to you.

Every Friday he awaited impatiently, his knee bouncing just to see your beautiful smile cross the threshold of the company doors with paintings upon painting you had traveled countries to get just for his boss.

Hyuck always used the excuse that there were too many for you to have multiple trips up and down the elevator so he’d offer to help you carry them to his boss’ office.

You also looked forward to those Fridays. Back then Hyuck was loving and patient, he was playful and did anything to make you smile. Even the first times you rejected his proposals he’d come back with more potential that you ended up becoming his wife.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be with him but because of your job. You spent weeks or even months in different areas of the country or abroad so knowing this relationship would be long distance didn’t help.

By the time you had agreed, the company had terminated their business with you and you had gotten a job in the city to relax from the chaos traveling constantly would bring.

In Mark’s eyes you were always strong willed. When Haechan finally introduced you during one of Mark’s exhibitions, the older male was in awe to know Hyuck had found someone so perfect. 

At the time you matched his energy very well. The both of you were outgoing yet always stood your ground. If anyone, especially your now husband did anything you didn’t like— you’d call him out on it.

Hence Mark always felt like he was walking on eggshells until he learnt that he could do no wrong in your eyes because you saw yourself in him.

The both of you had the fine arts to bond about, he was easy to talk to, and he was always supportive of your hobbies as you were of his. Hell— you even invested in some of his pieces to show you’d be there for him.

Many would side eye the relationship you had with Mark but Hyuck understood how perfect the three of you were and if his best friend would do anything for his girl, then she was the one.

Mark didn’t know how or when it happened but all he knew as of now was that Haechan managed to make you docile in a way. But he also knew he did something to piss you immensely. 

Your coworkers, before he made you quit were lovely but he was convinced many of the men there had other plans for you despite many being in relationships or just nice people.

It didn’t help that his own coworkers were all venomous and envious snakes that fed him ideas. It was quite sad actually, how the people that saw that relationship bloom were the same ones trying to tear it down so here the both of you were, always seconds away from yanking at each other’s hair and clawing at their face.

It was disheartening to say the least. Everything was changing for the worse.

“Have a good night, Mark.” 

Cutting his thoughts off, you squeezed his shoulder, leaving him in the dim lighting of the lamp beside him. 

Not giving him the chance to reply, Mark nodded to himself with a tight lipped smile as he turned the lamp off. 

Loneliness swallowed him again, his eyes adjusting to the darkness but the city lights worked as a nightlight regardless. He wouldn’t admit it but he really needed both you and Hyuck with him in that instant.

His head hit the pillow, eyelids felt heavy, allowing him to drift off to a deep yet short slumber. Mark was tired, yes, but his mind, though in pain, still ran his thoughts through. Destroying any chances of rest. His slumber lasted merely half an hour until the bright fluorescent lights and honking of the city awoke him.

In addition the whispers emitting from the main room gripped his hearing forcefully, not letting him go until he heard every vile thing you and Hyuck told each other.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude—“

“Yeah, well you could’ve tried to sound better.” 

He heard the shuffling of bed sheets.

“You never told me he was staying, I could’ve cleared out the other room. Poor guy has to sleep on the stiff couch. I mean why the fuck do you need an extra room for? Your desk is in the living room and you don’t even use it.”

Exasperation was laced in your voice, he didn’t know how to entirely feel but that guilt of intruding your livelihood was horrible.

“Those postcards are collectibles, y/n. For all you know they could be worth more than this apartment in the future.”

Mark imagined you rolled your eyes before speaking. “They’re worth ten cents right now, how could they possibly be worth anything any time soon?” 

A pout emerged on his lips. He wondered if that’s what people thought about his work right now but you were once the art consultant so who else is better to know the worth of something? 

“Fuck, fine! Clean out the room but throw away some of your stuff you don’t need too.”

“Like what?”

He heard defiance.

“I don’t know, why don’t you start with all the paint you have? You don’t ever work on anything anymore, all you did was waste money on that stuff.”

Hyuck shifted in his spot, turning to your body now. “You haven’t finished that little ug— little painting you were working on.” He swallowed his remaining words.

You simply scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “That little ugly painting you were gonna say?”

“No.” He answered untruthfully. 

“Right— I’m just going to go clean the room now.” 

You tried getting off the bed before feeling his grasp on your wrist, almost begging you for forgiveness but also with the grip of an angry possessive man.

“You’re going to wake him up.” He didn’t apologize, that only cemented your determination even more.

Yanking your wrist from his grasp without first feeling that burn, you scooted towards the edge putting your slippers on before walking towards the entrance, Donghyuck watching your every move.

Managing to open the door as quietly as you could, with a leg out already, you turned to your lover. “It’s a realistic portrait of you, just so you know.” He ignores your words but you can still notice his distaste in the way his eyes gloss over. That was enough of a reaction for you.

Finally shutting the door behind you, you lower your head slightly, tired of this constant cycle. You would’ve walked towards the spare room but in the instant you lifted your head you noticed the subtle rustling of Mark’s spiked hair scurrying to hide from your sight.

Tip-toeing towards the back of the couch, you lean over seeing his back turned to the cushions. Smiling to yourself as his lids twitched showing how bad of a liar he was; you giggled softly.

“I know you’re not asleep, nosey.” Your hand reached for his cheek, squeezing it softly. Mark couldn’t contain it anymore, he just smiled as his eyes fluttered open while apologizing.

“It’s cool, nothin’ new.” Climbing over the back of the couch, Mark made space for you to lay beside. “Did you, uh… Did you hear anything?” 

Settled by the edge of the couch, Mark wraps one of his arms around your shoulders hoping that’s enough to not make you fall.

“Not really.” His smile didn’t falter, not even when you gave him a stoic nod knowing he’s lying. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“Lights are too bright.” 

They were hitting your face as you laid beside him. Silence settled between the both of you until you got closer to him. Laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso.

You didn’t really give him time to process what had gone on since you began talking, only giving him the option of holding you as well. “You know I don’t mind that you’ll stay here, right? I love it when you come around.” 

“I hope so.” He replied

You granted him laughter, “Stop, you know I do! You’ve always been so fun, Mark. Are you going to give me company these days?” 

‘You’re so fun, Mark.’ The words echoed in his mind as he tried to process what to say.

“Of course. While I look for a place and an actual job as my father would say.” Though Mark tried to play it off, it was obvious he was insanely hurt.

“Do you still paint?” You deflected, he nods and asks: “Do you?” You respond with a shake of your head and a tender smile.

“We should do something tomorrow then. Rest for tonight, alright?” He nods letting you know you should too, shifting in hopes to find an angle the city lights wouldn’t bother him.

All you managed to do was close the blinds and curtains once you stood, hoping that was enough for now. For now it seemed like it was, smiling as you walked over to him one last time. Crouching down to his level, Mark smiled seeing your face one last time tonight.

Before he could scold you to get some rest, he felt your lips on his cheek whispering a sweet ‘goodnight’ once again.

Mark couldn’t form any words, he was utterly shocked and slightly confused but it was also past 2AM and you were probably just tired and slightly tipsy so he tried to ignore it— it was an innocent remark, just that…

As the weeks progressed it seemed Mark could slightly see why you had kissed him goodnight that first day. 

The longer he stayed with you and Donghyuck he noticed how lonely you were. Hyuck spent most of his days in the office and when he arrived home it was already late so all he could do was shower and head straight to bed.

He’d greet Mark normally but when it came to you he could barely even look your way. If he came back tipsy after a meeting then he would kiss you as a greeting but other than that it was as if a corpse was walking amongst you.

On his days off, Hyuck would lounge on the couch while watching TV expecting you to cater to him but when it was obvious you’d continue to ignore his existence, he’d dress up and head back to the office.

Mark hated to admit it but he preferred when Haechan wasn’t home. It was a living hell when he was. You were always so lively when it was just you and him. If Hyuck came around your entire mood faltered and it was a struggle to bring it back.

He was glad that he had managed to get you to paint again. In this time together, Mark had helped you with detailing and different techniques. You had also found that oil pastel was a new medium you preferred. 

Mark could now see why having a roommate or a lover was sought out so much. You and him would spend your days at the downtown markets fishing for fresh produce for home made meals you two would plan or just simply finding an excuse to escape the confinement that apartment was for you.

Mark had also learnt how to better his cooking from you and how to properly take care of plants. That is because the both of you decided to buy one and help it grow— together . To be quite honest you always thought of plants as such a huge responsibility, you simply didn’t want to do it alone.

It was going great, at least for you two. The more time he spent there the less you cared about what Hyuck was doing without you. The less you cared about Donghyuck. 

But for now, those thoughts needed to disappear and you two had to think about him regardless. 

Despite the horrid summer heat in September, Mark put himself in the kitchen monitoring the stew as you got dressed up for tonight's event. Whining to himself about how hot it was getting in the kitchen. But this was you– and his best friend of course– so he didn’t want to complain.

“Do you want me to turn off the stove? I think it’s starting to dry up.” Mark called out, watching the red bubbles flow from one side to another, avoiding the pieces of pork and vegetables before they’d burst.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, hey— how does it look?” Mark turned with the sound of your voice, his eyes taking a while to process how beautiful you looked before him. To say he was speechless was an understatement. It felt as if the air in his entire body had been knocked out and his voice was robbed.

“Is it too much?” You asked nervously at his silence. Trying to aid that, he shook his head with a smile on his face, taking one of your hands into his to twirl you around. Though as innocent as it was, Mark couldn’t help his wandering eyes, admiring the beauty you always have been. 

He loved how the purple dress hugged your body and he loved how the lacing of your heels wrapped around your smoothen calves. They matched the nylor top coat of the dress, beaded flowers on both items.

He loved how your collarbones looked, shimmers from glittered lotion helping them. The straps tied around your neck making it a halter dress, and he loved how happy you looked.

Mark wasn’t fully sure what this brewing feeling was but he knew it wasn’t good. 

Hyuck wasn’t someone Mark ever found himself being jealous of, he was his best friend after all. Mark had only loved and supported his best friend but right now it was killing him. The feeling wasn’t strong enough but he knew it could grow quickly.

It was killing him to realize he and you have spent all day preparing for tonight. Cooking Hyuck’s favorite meal and dessert, cleaning every nook and cranny of the apartment, and even buying postcards for his collection despite how you felt about it.

Even when Donghyuck has been nothing but a dipshit to you this entire time Mark’s stayed with you two; you went out of your way to make this anniversary a good one.

To be exact, Mark was jealous of Hyuck for having someone who loved him despite all he’s put you through.

“You look ravishing.” Mark let out in a breath, your concern turning into a grand smile and thanking him with a hug. 

Turing to grab the pot of stew, Mark placed it on the decorated dinner table as you followed with glasses and wine. 

“Okay, got everything?” He questioned one last time after wiping his hands on his jeans, making his way to the entrance door.

Looking around, you nodded as a response. Turning to the clock on the microwave, Mark grabbed his jacket, getting the clue. “Alright then, he should be here soon so just page me whenever it’s fine to come back.” 

Mark smiled your way, almost as if he was excited for you when he knew he wasn’t. 

Just as he was to turn and leave, a thought crossed his mind. “By the way— has he said anything?” His eyebrows furrowed and some doubt was visible but you just shrugged with an awkward smile.

“No… but he always acts like he forgets when we have anything big coming up.” You laugh to ease those nerves he’s created. 

“Plus, I saw a box a while ago in one of his desk drawers and I think it’s a bracelet.” You tried to defend Hyuck, even when you nervously played with the flowers on the table. Even though you were trying to act giddy, Mark couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for these feelings he’s created. 

“Alright… have fun then!” Mark walked to you quickly, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek that you received with a smile before returning it. You felt your arms tingle with the warmth of his skin, lightheaded when he removed himself from you.

The second Mark closed the door behind him, you sat with that anxious pit in your stomach waiting for your husband to arrive. You didn’t know if it was for what he had created when it came to Hyuck or for his touch– nevertheless it’s September 7th: Your anniversary. That’s all that should matter now.

You knew Hyuck arrived home late so you didn’t put it past him to do so on your wedding anniversary but the more the clock ticked and the needles cycled around with no sign of him, you felt vile begin to form in your throat. 

It was coming around to be 10pm, then 11pm, and before you knew it 2am had rolled around and all that was left was the uncovered pot of stew covered by a layer of grease, wilted flowers crumbling down, and napkins full of smeared makeup and snot.

You were trying your best to not think about it much. You didn’t want to think about how foolish you were to think that despite how much you and Hyuck weren’t on the best terms as of the past months, that that love you once shared would triumph at least on your anniversary. 

It was clear enough to you that he didn’t care anymore. So picking up yourself and your pride you made your way towards the restroom, wiping away the remains of your makeup and preparing for bed before paging Mark to come home. 

He didn’t think twice about it when he felt the vibration against his hip, it was until he saw you sadly pour the stew into containers that he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

There was no sign of Donghyuck anywhere in the apartment and it made his blood boil. All he could do was walk your way, taking the pot and washing it while you put the container away in the fridge. 

“So… wanna go on a bike ride tomorrow? We can get lunch, and then we can head to a music shop. I know you’ve been meaning to buy a CD player. Oh a picnic sounds perfect.” He knew it would do no good talking about his best friend and it was just best to ignore the subject.

You had been trying so hard to not cry this entire time that Mark offered to spend time with you but it made that barrier break and the waterworks to cascade. Mark felt guilty, as if he had said something wrong and he didn’t know what to do besides take you into and embrace and whisper apologies against your hair that he caressed as your back.

“Y/n, please. I’m so sorry if I sa—“

“No, it’s not— just— why can’t he be like you?” 

Mark felt his heart ache and it got worse the more you cried against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist. He could smell the sweet scent of wine mixed into the one of your minty toothpaste. He could only assume that you had gotten drunk from despair.

“It’s okay… why don’t you go to sleep? We have a big day tomorrow, I'll finish cleaning up.” You didn’t have it in you to deny him, you were too tired and distraught from this little stunt Haechan pulled on you that you just wanted to lay down at least. 

Simply nodding, you gave him a last tight squeeze before letting him go, looking up at him with a thankful smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol but the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed how much more you adored Mark. That same tingle he created earlier was presenting itself in an excruciating way.

He was the sweetest boy you’ve known, he treats you so well and expects nothing in return, and he’s always been supportive of you.

Temptation was always lurking and his rosey lips looked enticing more and more but it seems he caught onto your thoughts that he swallowed the lump in his throat. Clearing his throat, Mark smiles at you whispering a tender ‘goodnight’ that you repeated kissing his forehead before walking straight to the bedroom.

Mark felt frightened while you stared at him. Truth be told if you had kissed him, he would’ve let you and even kissed you back but right now he couldn’t. At least not when you’re so vulnerable, tipsy, and also his best friend’s wife.

Fuck… his best friend’s wife. 

The second that door closed behind you, Mark let out a hampered breath, scolding himself for ever thinking about you in that aspect. They were only worsening as the days passed by.

Running his hand over his face and throwing his head back, Mark headed back to the kitchen. Though temporarily, washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen had aided him in forgetting those rising feelings. But like always they’d creep up once he was able to think freely again.

He tried to sleep that guilt away, tossing and turning hoping with every move it would shake out of his bones and leave through the open window but nothing worked. Frustrated with how easily the idea of kissing you had disturbed him, Mark grunted on his way up to the window. Taking a hold of his cigarette box that laid on the kitchen counter.

It was already 4am nearing five when he had finished cleaning for you but even so Hyuck hadn’t arrived until now when Mark leaned against the windowsill with the stick between his lips. 

Lighting it, he shakes his head with a breathy laugh that makes smoke blow out of his lips. “Unbelievable.” He tells himself, eyes following the drunken moves of his friend and laughter from the men inside the car. 

He counted the minutes and seconds until Donghyuck was to arrive at the apartment, his loud steps not missed. 

“55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60… 1, 2—‘ 

The glowing red within the cigarette consuming more and more of the paper and herb, warming up where he held it, a clear sign that he should get a new one. Exactly when the warmth of the butt was becoming unbearable, Mark threw it out to the street hearing the doorknob rattle upon Haechan opening the door.

In his giddy drunken state, the young man smiled seeing his best friend, rushing to him to embrace him as he loudly greeted him. 

“What are you still doing awake? Wanna have a drink?” He asks in between laughs, rushing to the fridge and grabbing two bottles, easily opening them with just the back of a knife. Mark took it without a thank you, lighting up another cigarette with so much disgust in his face the longer he looked at the state of his best friend.

Lips swollen and red, glitter littered all over his body and sticking to the sweat of his neck that was stained with rouge and purple kisses. He reeked of expensive cigarettes and alcohol and his slacks had stains that could only make him gag from just imagining.

Mark simply shook his head, scoffing at the antics of his friend. His guilt was gone seeing how much worse Hyuck could be than him. Taking a swig of the beer, Mark glared at his friend. “What is wrong with you? It’s so fucking late.” He viciously asked, inhaling smoke from his new cigarette.

Hyuck laughed, taking one from Mark’s box and lighting it to join his friend. “Okay, mom.” He replied, feeling as if he was just jesting but when Mark’s expression didn’t change he was becoming visibly frustrated. After all, what did Mark care about? He was just staying with them.

“Not for me but for y/n. She’s been waiting all day for you. You’ve really fucked her over, Donghyuck.” 

Mark doesn't call him Donghyuck— ever. Only times he’s done so is when he’s angered him badly and right now he couldn’t understand why he cared so much about you and him. Putting down his bottle and turning to his friend, Hyuck’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth felt slightly agape. “What does it matter to you? It’s just another day.” His voice, gruff and deep now.

The smoke Haechan blew out made its way to Mark’s face, creating a more hostile night for the two. He wasn’t going to back down. In all his years he’s never seen you cry and he wasn’t going to let that slide. 

Mark mirrored Hyuck’s dissatisfied expression, coming closer to his friend in defiance. “You smell like shit with signs of another bitch all over you on your anniversary, dipshit. Is it still just another day?” 

And it crashed down upon him when Mark’s finger crushed itself against his chest, poking him as a wakeup call from the drunken daze he was in. Feeling as if a bucket of water had been dropped on him, Hyuck’s eyes widened in horror, fingers threading with his hair and yanking at it with anger like the day Mark had arrived.

“Fuck—“ He took a seat, putting off his cigarette on the ashtray. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have a present either, what the fuck am I gonna do?” 

Fear was all over his face, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep, rocky night, and the frustration from how you’d treat him for the following weeks or even months until you forgot it.

Mark didn’t care, he only focused on his statement about the gift. Angered, he finished off the second cigarette before glaring at his friend more. “She found a bracelet in your drawers, what do you mean you don’t have a gift?” 

Hyuck had never seen Mark this angry before but for now he would focus on his own problems. “Who is it for? Are you fucking with me? Are you cheating on her? I love you, you're a brother to me but I will beat your ass if you fuck her over, Hyuck— promise to God I will.”

It was an eratic moment to spew such words that Hyuck’s expressions smoothened and his fright dissipated. All that was left was a twinge of curiosity the more his eyes squinted. 

‘Interesting.’ He thought, the gears in his brain hating this new feeling just as Mark was hating his own new feelings as well.

“It’s for my mother’s birthday… but I guess I’ll give it to her now.” He collectively spoke, his words coming out slowly still processing Mark’s attitude. Mark didn’t seem to pick up on Hyuck’s peaking interest, shaking his head with obvious discontent. 

“No, you have to get something meaningful. Something special, I mean she got you something you wanted, she spent all day preparing for you. You can’t just do something like that, Hyuck.” 

“Fine, I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow and how about you get the present?” He hoped that was good enough to get Mark off his back or at least to get his help. After all, he is his best friend.

Mark sat in complete disgust and anger. “You didn’t hear shit I just said, did you?” An angered smirk as he scoffed before finishing his beer. Hyuck grunted in frustration, his eyes screaming: ‘What more do you want from me?’ The wider they got. “Dude, I don’t have time, you know this.”

But it was useless, Mark just glared at him one last time before nodding. “Fine.” He grumbled in disapproval. “Alright, thank you.” Hyuck added with his own annoyance laced into it. Fishing for his wallet, he handed Mark one of his credit cards before silently walking to the room ending the night for both of them.

Lonely and angry.

Thankfully enough when waking, you were the ray of sunshine that made his day better. Driving almost an hour to the countryside, Mark and you spent it entirely on rented bikes.

Going to the nearest park the two of you had a picnic at, mainly focusing on how to sweeten each other’s mood and avoid thinking about last night. Though Mark drowned out the fears he had just last night, you felt them flourishing within you.

You liked that he was gentle with you and treated you nicely. If you ever argued with Mark it was over the taste of something and not about how useless he thought your likings were.

He cooked and cleaned if you weren’t in the mood. If you were he’d help, he just made sure to not let all the burden fall on you. 

You liked Mark. You always had but right now the lines between platonic and loneliness were blurring. Enough that this day felt like a date and not just friends hanging out.

It didn’t matter though, at least you were glad there was someone out there to listen to you. Just as he did now the longer you talked while walking inside a small shop of antiques.

Finishing the drink you held in your hand, Mark held the door open for you. Words cascading from your lips as he admired every single one of them. Even when he took your cup to throw away before roaming around, his eyes didn’t leave your face.

The only time he was able to remove his gaze from you was the moment he heard your excited squeal while rushing towards the jewelry section and gawking at a seemingly golden locket.

The smooth metal etched with intricate vines filled with flowers, glimmering in the sunlight that shot through the vast windows behind the counter. Mark admired the shine in your eyes. How they glossed over and sparkled in adoration, almost as if this was the last thing you’d want before you died. 

He supposed you could feel his intense staring that you turned to smile at him before clutching his arm, feeling you shake a bit. “It seems silly but my mom gave me one exactly like this one when I was a little kid and I always wore it,” 

You shifted your leg. “But when I moved in with Hyuck it went missing. I guess you could’ve called it a warning.” You laughed trying to ease the underlying message as you continued. “Ever since I lost it things haven’t gone well, perhaps it was my lucky charm; and it’s been so difficult finding a new one that makes me feel the same as the one she gave me but it hasn’t worked out.” 

Feeling your head lay on his shoulder as you stared at the piece without touching it, Mark looked down upon you. That odd feeling manifesting itself once again and tearing at his intestines. 

“How much is it?” He questioned, feeling you shake a bit more. “Uh—“ You separate yourself from him, the trembling from your legs increasing and your breathing hitching in the back of your throat. 

Whether it was because you had to go to the restroom or solely for the price alone. “Damn… Hyuck would kill me if I spent that much on a simple necklace.” You stated, before fully separating yourself from him and whining that you had to go to the restroom before he tried to oppose his friend’s view on spending.

Hyuck couldn’t be this frivolous, right? Well, Mark couldn’t really judge how other people spent their money, after all his reckless way of living is what has him crashing at his best friend’s place.

But this is you and Donghyuck he was talking about. Sure he wouldn’t care that his wife spent money on something so meaningful and after his arrival last night it was evident he spent his own money grossly.

Nevertheless Haechan told him to buy you a gift you’d appreciate and this was the perfect one. Whether it was too much or not, he was never given a budget and Hyuck would have to deal with it on his own.

So while you remained in the restroom, Mark rushed to the register, pleading with the cashier to quickly wrap it for a gift. While she tried her best to make it look presentable, his desperate staring was making her nervous to where she fumbled with the chain and the box.

If it wasn’t because there was a timer on how quickly you’d come out he would’ve been slightly upset at how messy it was but now that he could hear the creaking of the door far in the back inside this silent shop, he couldn’t care less how badly the presentation was. After all, he'll fix it while you get ready for tonight’s date with your husband .

The closer the tapping of your shoes got, the bigger the rush he gained while swiping the card and signing the receipts, hoping the cashier would hurry up on her end as well. Poor girl.

And when he could see your silhouette from his peripheral view whilst you looked around the rest of the knick-knacks, he shoved the box and receipt into the inner pocket of his jacket, unintentionally glaring at the girl despite thinking his gaze was apologetic.

“Ready to go?” He questioned, patting his chest hoping the imprint wasn’t visible. “Yeah…” You dragged out, a pout on your lips as your gaze turned to the display the necklace was on. At its disappearance, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout deepened. 

“What?” He questioned, holding out his arm for you to grab again. “And the locket?” You ask, he was about to answer when the cashier interrupted the both of you. 

“Someone had bought it before you came, they’ll be here shortly to pick it up so I just packed it. I’m so sorry if you were interested in it.” Her tender smile made your pout soften, telling her it was fine as you dragged Mark out dejectedly.

Despite knowing he had gotten it for you, Mark couldn’t let that disappointment you held go. Hopefully as of now when Hyuck was to give you the locket, that you’d feel better and forgive your husband even when he most likely didn’t deserve it.

When Hyuck had arrived and told you about his plans, it didn’t change the tense ambient that had been created upon his arrival. Though you reluctantly got ready while Hyuck moped about your mood, he was praying to all entities that you’d both let it go once the date was over. Even if deeply and unconsciously he felt put off by the both of you together— a twinge of jealousy. 

The restaurant was cold and dim, dull. Though he tried making conversation and you tried to answer, that deep built up of anger was clogging your throat, choking you with its fiery vexation.

Hyuck was beginning to feel his own frustrations bubbling up the colder you became towards him. He was trying his best to make this an enjoyable night but when you’ve spent your entire days fighting— things like these become a heavy task.

When nothing else worked, Hyuck reached for the inside of his suit jacket, pulling the box Mark had handed him rushedly whilst he pushed the both of you out of the apartment in hopes the air would finally clear.

“Y/n.” He called out for you, your fork resting on the plate as you averted your gaze towards him, humming in response. His free hand reached for yours, clutching it tightly as a plea to please forgive him for all his wrong doings (As if a measly dinner could fix all his invective words).

“I know I fucked up royally last night,” Your eyebrow quirked in sarcasm. “But I’m truly sorry for ruining our day for work. I’m sorry I prioritized it over our marriage and perhaps it’s the reason we haven’t been doing so well these past couple of months along with other reasons…”

He sighed, his fingers intertwining with yours as his glossy eyes trembled trying to look into your cold muted ones. “And I know this dinner doesn’t amount to anything you deserve, so at least take this…” His hand left yours, that coldness from before remaining. 

“To show I love you so much more than I can love anyone or anything.” Upon opening the box, your face lit up and you sat up straight. Your eyes are no longer cold, instead they are excited and warm.

You felt the need to cry, to weep and forgive him as it seemed he did know all along about your locket. That is until you opened your mouth. “So it was you?! You bought it from that shop?” You excitedly questioned as he stood to put it on you.

Kissing your cheek, glad you finally caved in. Standing behind you to put it on not caring if people were to see, his cold fingers graced your equally cold skin, making him slightly shiver. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s really simple, nothing too special. Would’ve gotten you something prettier but I know you like things like this, found it down the street from the apartment but I thought it’d look beautiful on you.” He cleared his voice before allowing his lips to fall upon yours.

Perhaps this kiss would have meant more to you but hearing him lie about where ‘he’ had bought it was making your guts churn in pain. He truly will never stop lying to you, huh?

In the matter of seconds as he sat down and looked back at you, Hyuck couldn’t help but notice your eyes dimming again. “I see.” You’d mildly continued, giving him a small smile and dropping it. 

Easy as that, a smile was enough for him to feel like he had gotten you back. Taking your hand into another grasp as he chose a dessert for you both; your returning scowl went unnoticed.

You loved Hyuck. You think you do, he is the man you married but why does he continue disappointing you so much? At what point in a relationship do the things the other person does become insufferable? 

At what point do you look forward to not spending time with them and instead find comfort in someone else? It seems that you have reached this point. 

Morally, it was consuming you. You were supposed to be the perfect housewife that keeps the home clean and given him a child by this point but all you were was a wreck longing for her old independent life while thinking about spending time with her husband’s best friend.

 What he did to lead to what you two were now was not helping this case anymore.

After Hyuck had given himself away that he hadn’t bought the locket for you, the only person you could think about was Mark. There’s no way someone else could’ve bought it before you two just for it to end in your hands. 

The inscriptive inside of the box with the shop logo was also a dead giveaway of where it was bought, something Hyuck should’ve looked at if he had fabricated his lie well. Or perhaps Mark had set him up for failure and just told him to give it to you.

A part of you wants that latter to be true, for Mark to wedge himself into the relationship to create some excitement but you knew it wouldn’t happen. Not only because he was Donghyuck’s best friend, your own close friend, and because he just isn’t that type of person . 

In conclusion Mark was the only one who could’ve obtained it for you and had managed to get the cashier to lie for him. Mark is the only one who knows the meaning of your fixation on that locket. Only he would buy something that has a meaning for you to obtain. 

All you were worried about was how he paid for it when he was in a crisis as of now and hoped Hyuck had paid him back as he was the one to give it to you after all. 

And as the quiet car ride back to the apartment fell silent besides the hushed radio playing in the background, Hyuck walked in celebrating as if anything had truly changed. 

“Wine or beer, baby?” He questioned, his hand on the fridge handle looking at the inventory. Your mind elsewhere, eyes wandering and looking for signs of Mark. 

To no avail, you turned to your husband, grabbing the bottle of beer in his hand. Hyuck kissed your cheek for the second time this night, following it with a peck to your lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Is he here?” He questioned, reading your mind. You only shook your head, looking into his eyes wondering if his question was out of realizing your reasons or for his own. With your response, he smirked, his face moving closer to you. His pillowy lips found yours, taking them into a kiss full of yearning. 

His hand creeped across your torso, dangerously inching up to your breast, feeling him squeeze through the fabric of your dress. It’s been a while since he’s touched you, mainly due to how often you’d both go to sleep angry at each other but right now was the chance. 

Even if you were tired of his ways, you’d still let him. The feeling of lust taking over you but slowly the thought of Mark tried pushing through your brain. 

Hyuck’s cold fingers found themselves under the fabric, grasping the mound and giving it a slight squeeze. Your lips continued enveloping against each other, him smirking when your breathy moan spilled against his. 

He chuckled looking at your state, flushed at the steaminess of the situation, his other hand bunching up your dress enough to where he could slip his hand in between your legs easily. 

“Hyuck…” you moaned, resting your forehead on his chest, the grumble from his extended chuckle making you shake. “Yeah?” He asks, his delicate fingers gracing over the warm fabric of your panties that slowly moistened the more he touched you. 

You tried talking but felt your voice tremble with every syllable, barely pushing out the name that’s been manifesting itself all this time. “M-Mark—“ 

The moment his friend’s name came out as a moan to his ears, Hyuck stopped his assault, standing up frustratedly. “What did you say?” He questioned with darkened eyes, scared and angry that you could possibly do that to him (despite what he’s done to you.)

Despite how much you both fight each other, you both were good at reading each other’s body languages. His hostile figure made you act fast and pushed his hand back in between your legs as he reluctantly began to touch you just out of suspicion. 

“I just meant that he might not be far…” you gasp, leaning closer to kiss him softly compared to the teasing, teeth-clashing ones from earlier. “So maybe, fuck—“ the pressure on your clit increasing, softly circling it. 

“Maybe— hurry.” You bit your lip, his anger dissipating and that shit eating grin returning the second he opted to slip his hand inside the purple fabric of your panties, the wetness making it stick to the upside of his hand. 

Hyuck chuckled at the scene before him, it had been so long since you two had been intimate and seeing how you melted onto his touch was doing things to him. Your whimpers and moans fueling his hurt ego and the further his fingers teased your entrance, thumb rubbing at your clit— it grew more and more. 

“Oh? Have you been holding it the entire night? I can feel it sliding down my hand. Maybe I should get a taste?” He teased, his fingers threatening to leave your slickness and reach his lips when your speedy hands prevented any movement that wasn’t caresses to your needy cunt. 

He chuckled loudly, leaning down to bite your swollen lower lip before kissing you softly. “Hyuckie, stop being such a tease!” You dragged out, becoming more forceful with the kiss. His tongue swiped against yours, the warm satin feel mirroring the wetness between your legs onto his digits. 

“You haven’t called me that in a while… Ah my princess does need me!” Ecstatically his word embedded into your lips, rewarding you with a second finger that at most was just as cruelly teasing as the one before. 

You whined even more hoping he’d find it in his heart to plunge his fingers deep into your crevice but knowing him and how insanely cruel he can be, the hope dwindled the more he teased your entrance with just the tips and pulling them back out to hear your glorious cries. He wanted to cave into you. He wanted to please you as he had in the past but this seemed to be the only efficient way he could actually make you pay for the way you’ve treated him for these past months. 

Yet despite his vexatious actions to further embitter you and start his own sort of revenge, he couldn’t do it. Deep in his heart he knew he still loved you like he used to. He simply had to give in to you, as much as it pained him how easily he submits to you. 

Determined enough with the melting of his hateful heart, Hyuck leaned in to kiss you and ease that pent up frustration. “I love you so much, y/n.” He whispered against them, your whimpers swallowing the words you couldn’t process or at least refused to believe were true. 

But glory blessed you as his fingers began to prod at your labia and soon found your opening. Your moans were too loud, those demonstrating how long he’s left you to fend on your own that the simplest of touch could lead you to where you’re at. 

He shushed you calmly, smiling against your mouth while you gnawed on his lips, your hands reaching for his aching erection. With the swift touch of your delicate fingers over the textile, Haechan whined, his fingers prodding deeper into your cavern. He didn’t move them yet, a third finger taunting you as you rushed to unbuckle his belt used as a reward to grant you more satisfaction. 

“You’re close, honey. Almost there.” He cooed with a needy and proud smile, his free hand petting your hair to incentivize you to continue as a great reward would soon come. His third finger taunting your opening while his thumb circled your clit to create more arousal. 

When your nimble fingers had finally gotten rid of the worn leather, you pulled at it, throwing it across the kitchen to the living room without a care where it fell. Hyuck granted you with an excited laugh, pulling you in for a kiss as he slowly pushed in his third finger, the tip of it softly gracing through. 

“Good girl! My God you’re too good for me! ” He spoke in between kisses, your tongue asking for more, caressing his lower lip. Hyuck admired the fucked out state you were in. Your eyes hooded and dark with need, your lipstick smudge from all these kisses, and your arousal seeped from around his fingers dribbling down your legs as tears would on your cheeks. 

You were so needy, anything and any movement could make you release now and though you’ve masturbated throughout this dry spell you both put yourselves through— nothing could amount to how good he makes you feel even if it’s just with fingers. So of course you were needy, of course you wanted his fingers stuffed inside you and you wanted him to finally move them inside you.

That would’ve happened, if it wasn’t for Mark. 

Hyuck whispered against your lips how he’d start moving his fingers now. His pillowy lips molding against yours, pulling you by your hair closer to his starving mouth; his fingers began to slowly move and as you were beginning to feel the pleasure your husband always granted you— the front door creaked open, too fast that all you two could muster was for Hyuck to remove his fingers from inside you in a hurry as he refused to let go of your lips. 

The kiss didn’t last long, for odd reasons it was you who didn’t want Mark to see more of the scene. His subtle lingering gaze on your organism made you feel small under him, as if he was exhibiting some sort of disappointment or ache. His despondent expression left immediately to one of a playful smile, almost giving you whiplash from it. 

“Good night I’m guessing.” He joked, removing his jacket and putting away the box of cigarettes in his hand. “Yeah, I guess so.” Hyuck laughed, turning his back to both of you. You didn’t stop looking at Mark, hoping he’d react to what he just saw even if you knew what you wanted him to react with. He didn’t though, he just gave you a nod to acknowledge your presence. 

Your husband continued to make conversation with his friend, the one trying to avoid you for his own reasons. It was odd to say the least, on both of your parts. It was odd that minutes prior you were too enthralled with the man you’re married to but right now all you want was for Mark to say something to you, you almost wanted to apologize to him for having him walk into that scene.

You didn’t want to say it or think it— as the months pass by you’ll realize it felt like you were betraying him instead and not your husband. 

Mark knew what you wanted though but he would pretend it was all in his head as he is still trying to process the discovery he’s made: he’s falling for his best friend’s wife. 

So for the time being he’ll do his best to keep this relationship as it has been for the past years. Simple and platonic. 

“But yeah, I think the meal was good. Y/n? What did you think?” Hyuck’s voice broke you out of the void, turning to him and then Mark. “I liked it, yeah.” Simply put. Hyuck deviated the conversation, opening the fridge to pull a drink for both you and him, asking Mark if he’d like one but in order to avoid you given it was harder for him to ignore your silent cry for a pick of attention— he opted to choose the going to sleep technique to leave the setting. 

Mark shook his head, opening the door to the guest room to throw in his jacket. A tender tiresome smile, “Nah, it’s cool. I’m going to sleep, you guys continue to enjoy your night.”  Hyuck simply shrugged, turning to the cabinets to pick out some snacks. In the moment he had done so, you rushed towards Mark, grasping his arm to stop him from fully entering the room. 

He froze at the contact, feeling the area become warmer than his remaining body. Mark’s shocked face gave him away, he wasn’t meant for this type of situation. “I just—“ you turned quickly to look at Hyuck, the man still distracted with the boxes of popcorn. 

“I just want to thank you.” Your remaining hand showing him the locket, a smile forming on his lips, one you mimicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A shit eating grin while blush krept upon his beautiful chiseled cheeks, making your chest burn up at how you enjoyed that look on him. “Right… It means quite a lot actually— again, thank you, Mark. You truly do know your way to a girl's heart.” 

You whispered the words, pulling him closer towards you and kissing his cheek as he grasped your hip in fear of any more proximity. It was quick but it felt eternal for you both, the fire in both of you making it difficult for him to go inside the room. 

And though you both felt a beautiful yet painful fire, Hyuck from the corner of his eye saw such action, his own fire scorching with a new found feeling he was not liking. 

“Hm…” he hummed quietly to himself, a pout ensuing on his lips, pretending it was nothing. I mean, he was his best friend and you were his wife— That’s. All. There. Is. 

To avoid like the rest of you were, Hyuck feigned a smile, pulling you towards his arms the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen. You reciprocated the action, going further enough to kiss him. It was good enough to feel like the kiss you’ve given to his friend's cheek was nothing— that’s all he needed. 

“What do you say we continue what we started in the room, huh?” He raised his eyebrow cheekily, a giggle leaving your lips to decline the offer. Whining as to why, your husband pouted at how you only continued to giggle, your arms wrapped tightly around his slim waist. 

“Y/n-ie, come one~ why not?” he cried, kissing your lips softly before your neck. His plump lips encased your throat, his tongue lapping at the warm flesh that was making you reconsider your answer but the memory of him was making you stand your ground. 

Kissing him one last time and holding his face in between your hands to make him focus on your words; “Mark is still awake, Hyuck. We can’t fuck with him fully aware, walls arent very thick.” You reasoned, kissing him once again. 

You failed to notice his pout turn displeased, his expression overall seeming stoic now, aggravated. The film of love over your eyes blinding you from his change in demeanor; making your way towards the couch and inviting him to it just to keep up the facade of a normal marriage. 

“Come on now or I’ll pick the movie.” You threatened, picking up the remote to the TV. Hyuck shot you a tender smile, one faltering as quickly as it appeared. “Go get comfortable first, I’ll prepare here.” His voice dropping, some defeat laced on it.

You smiled at him lovingly, oblivious to the way he stared at you and the rays of hurt exuding off of him. Closing the door behind you to get ready, Hyuck leaned forward, his head falling to his hands as he clutched it hoping all those thoughts would leave his head. 

Mark is his best friend and you’re his wife. You and Mark are just friends— that’s all it is. But even if he tried to fool himself, this marriage was too fragile for him to not fully worry as he always has. History can repeat itself one way or another.

One ought to think that after that night in which you and Haechan had put aside any hatred for each other, that it would remain and the fighting would subside but that night only made things worse.

Whether it was the lingering sexual tension neither of you were to relieve that night and the ones to follow or simply how you two couldn’t put away the resentment that has grown but things were bleak nonethless. 

Some part of Hyuck blamed you, he didn’t know when he began feeling hate towards you instead of pity and self hatred. And the other part blamed Mark. In countless arguments you always threaten him by mentioning the possibility of storming out of the room and spending the night with his best friend as he’s the only one who doesn’t irritate you. 

As any partner would do, Hyuck grunted in frustration, picking up his pillow and slamming the door behind him as he took his spot next to Mark in the guest bed. Both men awkwardly and uncomfortable on the bed trying to avoid bringing you into the conversation. 

For one because your name and presence made Hyuck enraged and for Mark he could only feel guilt bubble inside him while thoughts of you clouded his mind. 

Mark and you had always gotten along. You both shared a love for the arts and that only made you both closer these months. When it didn’t pertain to art, you two always teamed up to bother Haechan as a taste of his own medicine for ever bothering either of you. 

Times used to be good, dinners and parties were fun but the more he indulged in his work and tried to climb whatever hierarchy ladder there was, he became such a— such a dick. The actions he took upon when you were on a work trip didn’t help either.

You should’ve taken in all the signs from whenever you met the wives of his coworkers. Their sunken faces and dead eyes staring at you with pity when he first brought you around. 

Their ‘awe’s’ and ‘oh’s’ when you shared how lovely Hyuck was to you and how you two met. His persistent love for you that’s led you to where you two were at the time. Their pity should’ve been obvious, at first it was jealousy but no one knew the truth of having men in this field like they do. 

So now they look at you like you were finally one of them. Your miserable and tired gaze with every single one of these dinners. How annoyed you became every time Donghyuck opened his mouth to let out a joke or just speak. You had to catch yourself from rolling your eyes most of the time for his sake but it was becoming so exhausting when he didn’t try to do anything for your sake.

“So how’s the job hunt, y/n?” A nasally pesky sound buzzed towards your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts about tomorrow's plans. Lifting your gaze with confusion, you still turned to her. 

Rapidly glancing at the people around the table ready to collect their coats, you held in your sigh as their attention was now fixated on you. “I’m not looking for a job.” You answered sharply, Donghyuck helping you into your coat, buttoning it up for you to keep up the perfect husband facade he’s trying to maintain. 

She cocked her head, the hairspray held cylinder bangs bouncing but never moving with gravity. “Really? Hyuckie said you were looking for a job.” God how you hated her. ‘Hyuckie’? Yes you hated his guts as of lately but he’s still your man and jealousy is inevitable. 

You threw a glared at him, “Don't call me ‘Hyuckie’, Merdia.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose knowing what she’s trying to initiate. She chuckled trying to slap his arm playfully but he backed up before she could touch him at all, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“No… I’m helping a friend of ours. He’s an artist himself so we’ve been contacting old clients of mine to get references or any openings.” The group began to walk as you talked, the clicking of all your heels collecting on the marble tile. She follows along, trying to get as close to you. 

“An artist, how lovely.” One of the women added, smiling towards you. “Yes, he’s quite good. We’ve been working on some pieces for a while, while we wait for some responses.” You smiled fondly at her, your smile as wide as when you used to talk about Hyuck. 

“He’s amazing actually…” your smile refused to diffuse. The woman chuckled, nodding as a response while Hyuck side eyed you, stoic his face became. “Mark is a good artist.” It came out too bitter from his mouth; emphasizing the ‘is’. 

Reaching the front of the restaurant with the cars from the valet already at front the couples were getting ready to bid their goodbyes. “You speak so highly of him, if he’s available for commissions please let me know. All the pieces you’ve brought for our home fit so well I’d be so interested to see his work.” Another woman spoke, holding onto to her husband who smiled at her lovingly. 

This was the brightest you smiled all night, nothing fake and short of past conversations. Haechan loved your smile, he really did but to know it brought Mark into the conversation was making his heart ache. 

“You should really consider coming back as a consultant for the company, y/n. Keeping an eye on Donghyuck on your part is becoming tiresome.” His boss jokes, causing the party to chuckle. “Hope he hasn’t caused more trouble like he used to.” You commented, his lips falling against your cheek to reassure you he was no trouble at all. 

His boss shook his head as a response. “He’s become too boring these past years, loose him up or something.” You laughed knowing he was absolutely right, patting your husband’s hand. “Well… it was a great night, thank you all for accompanying us once again. Sunhee has something to do early tomorrow so I’ll see us out, have a great night.” 

Leading his wife in front of him carefully. In the process of going down the slight hill, one of her shoulder pendants dropped to the concrete. “Mrs. Oh you dropped your—'' Trying to help, you made your way towards it but before you could the obstacle or Merdia’s foot tripped you making you fall into the large fountain for cars to surround. 

You splashed around with the shock of the cold water biting your body as Hyuck rushed to your aid and some of the people in the party trying to see if you were okay. Even the staff noticing the happenings rushed to get whatever they could to free you from the breeze and dry you up. 

But either way you still shivered despite the panting host handing you two warm and folded towels that Haechan secured around you. “What is wrong with you for fuck’s sake.” Hyuck finally broke out, turning to the woman who pretended to be sorry, trying her best to grab you. Merdia was at a loss for words, stammering to say it was an accident but Hyuck retaliated with the exact happenings. 

“That was of such poor taste, Merdia!” One of the women exclaimed, her wrinkled skin prominent the while she frowned in disbelief. “I— I didn’t mean to…” she spoke lowley, glancing at those around her but mainly Hyuck and her boss. The poor man couldn’t make it home yet without making sure you were fine. 

“We all saw you stick out your foot, give it up.” The most cynical in the group spoke up, sipping from the drink she had ordered while the host brought you towels. Sometimes you feared you and Hyuck would turn out like her and her husband. Hating each other too much it was useless to try and hide it from the world. 

She couldn’t even speak, your shivers and Hyuck’s cooing too loud for her to even process the scolding she was getting. “You two go ahead. Y/n is freezing. I don't want her to get sick.” Mr. Oh directed the both of you with his hand, rushing you both to his car while Hyuck apologized but everyone else reassured him it was not his fault and he shouldn’t do so on her behalf. 

All you could hear was his boss telling her he’d want to have a talk with her tomorrow morning while his wife reassured her she was too immature for her grown age. As Hyuck drove away and made sure you were fully covered to not let the breeze cool you more, all you could think about was the hatred you had for the people in his job and those who’ve crossed his path inside that building. Even if Mr and Mrs. Oh were the sweetest people there can be, you’ve found to hate them to an extent. 

He patted you down with his own blazer, covering your bare legs with another one he had in the back without a care if the expensive piece would be ruined. “Are you okay?” He asks concerned, his hand rubbing your arm to warm up the area. Pulling out of the place he continued to blabber, questioning and acting like he cared. He probably did but you didn’t want to believe it. 

You never answered, shivering from both cold and anger. With every second of your silence and his aching chest, Hyuck grew frustrated, not knowing well how to process such emotions. They were bubbling up inside him and the worst of him was taking over, enough to not stop his mouth. 

“For fuck sake, y/n say something! I’ve been asking you the entire ride if you’re okay, speak up!” To say his scream didn’t catch you off guard was an understatement, usually during arguments no one screamed so this was still new to you. 

Even when you imagined your eyes to be wide they were cold to him. “There’s nothing to say.” Your hoarse voice broke out through gritted teeth. He scoffed, palms slamming the steering wheel. “Of course because all you have to say you’ll say to Mark.” That bitterness from earlier was back, his teeth grinded with the mention of his friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You turn to him, disgust masked on your face. “Every argument, every discussion, any free second— you’re always with him. You tell him everything, I’m your husband, not him! You’re supposed to have trust in me!” You can hear a sob stuck in his throat, trying his best to repress it but it kept fighting to come out. 

Maybe if it was another time and a past year you’d feel pity but it was only infuriating you. “How do you want me to trust you when those stupid letters are still engraved in my fucking head? All those little greeting kisses? Even the ones of Marida—“ 

“Don’t even bring her up, I would never be with her.” Disgust laced in his tongue. “Of course I know you wouldn't be with her. She’s old and ugly, I know you too well but that stupid seaweed girl is still—“ now it was your turn to hold in the sob. You rather not continue, you’ve tried to hide for too long that you were still hurting from the events that have led to this decaying marriage. 

“Y/n please…” his hand reached for you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You spat, moving as far as the car door would let you. The action alone caused him to emit a frustrated growl. “That was a while ago! Stop bringing her up for fuck sake.”

The speed he was driving in was only accelerating almost as if he couldn’t really stop his emotions from taking over. “So what, Hyuck? It’s not going to change the fact that you still cheated.” This time you couldn’t stop yourself, your tears forcefully spilled, your silent cry increasing in sound the second your head bowed and hand reached your forehead. 

You hated this, you really hated that he was seeing you this vulnerable but it did really hurt you to see the man that went out of his way to have you throw it all out for an ounce of attention. 

It had started a year and a half ago, though brief, the wound is still very fresh in your heart. With just two years of marriage, Hyuck began to act more loving than usual. In any case that would’ve been fine but if you hadn’t temporarily gone back to work at the same company you’d never know it was due to a short haired redhead that would give him seaweed treats every time the company called her catering services. 

She was sweet and kind. Every time he came around she’d blush and wasn’t able to hide it. Though his flirtation was innocent at first (as it always is) he began to like the attention she gave him. She was detailed about everything, from the color of her catering plates to the tiny designs on every treat but his specifically.  

It went on for a while with just flirtation remarks and gifts, after a while they’d accidentally cross paths at the park where he’d walk the dog you shared and soon became their hang out spot where they’d talk and talk for hours until the sun would set and he’d have to walk her home. Sometimes he’d simply spend the night… 

She’d tell him good night with a shy hug and a kiss to the cheek progressively getting closer to the corner of his mouth. Soon came the letters, the ones of her professing her love for him and how passionately she felt about him asking him to not speak of his own feelings just yet as she wasn’t ready for a response.  

And when she had finally gotten emotionally prepared for a response, a divine intervention came. On the day you had come back from a trip for a piece to place at the front of the company— the catering team had been called.  

With the table set and the treats and meals prepared, the employees came along. Anxiously waiting for his entrance with a plate of the same seaweed treats she’s been making him all these months, her face brightened up when he came into the picture.  

You still recall the scene before you: Have forgotten your coat, Hyuck had offered to give you one of his he had kept in his office granting him to let you walk to the lounge area with the rest of the employees.  

At the moment you had been standing with a few of his female coworkers catching you up on all the gossip you missed while out of town and working at a different company, laughing along to whatever they were saying when he had just walked in with his coat in hand searching for you but being stopped by that same red head. 

You wouldn’t have thought anything of it was it not for how she excitedly pulled him in, her lips gracefully falling to the corner of his mouth given he turned his head so it wouldn’t have. She seemed to dismiss that as she handed him the treats and he thanked her.  

She was rambling for a while making him grow a bit exasperated but she placed down any other plate and removed her gloves begging him to follow her outside the lounge. Looking around in hopes no one else caught what you had, you excused yourself to look for him in hopes the other two women around you didn’t follow.  

You had ended outside the door, hidden behind the protruding wall to listen into their conversation but it was a grave mistake.  

“I-I wrote you another letter.” She handed it to him, a shy smile along. “Don’t read it right now, I just want to make this quick because it’s eating me alive, but—“ she sighs nervously, hands beginning to shake and sweat.  

Exhaling through her lips, “I’m at a point where it hurts so much being around you daily. I really like you, Donghyuck. I’ve made it clear in all these letters and with this one more. I dream of kissing you more than I already do, I want all of you and I finally want to know if you want me too.” Her voice was as shaky as her hands.  

Hyuck was at a loss for words, he knew what he wanted to say but he knew he couldn’t, not when he loved you more than her. He could’ve said something but his initial thought was to take her into an embrace giving her false hope when she reciprocated it, smiling and sighing to herself the tighter she pulled him in. Her hands caressing his back like you always do.  

The sight and confession was eating you alive, the lump in your throat was too heavy and hard, it was choking you. This was all killing you but you’ll be damned if you were to let anyone get him after your vows have been made.  

Fighting with that lump you finally swallowed it, turning on your heel and walking towards them with determination and anger in your body.  

“Hyuckie! What’s taking you so long?” Your voice as fierce as always, it’s a quality they all liked about you. “I— um well.” If he was to be truthful, he was shitting bricks in this instance.  

“I’m cold, come— feel.” Your lips puckered up pecking him and your hands reached his cheeks making him laugh into the kiss. All the catering girl could do was look at the both of you dumbfoundedly, eyes large as her heart broke into million pieces. 

“Yeah, I see— honey this is… well. She caters for the company.” Oh he was so full of shit. Turning to the girl in front of you two as he wraps his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. “This is my wife, Y/n. She’s an art consultant here.”  

Poor girl, she just nodded as a response, meekly speaking her ‘nice to meet you’s’ before excusing herself before her throat fully closed up and the waterworks began.  

When she was earshot away, you turned to him. The fire in your eyes turned soft and sad as your fists found themselves against his chest. “I leave you alone for three months and you do this to me?” The air was scarce around you, he didn’t make it better the more he tried to pull you in and his apologies spewed from his lips. 

When he had finally taken a tight hold of you, you did your best to relax. Labored breaths against his chest, his apologies never ending followed by kisses that you tried to avoid.  

“When we get home you’re giving me every single one of those fucking letters and trust if I see her again here or wherever the fuck you two are seeing each other, I will make sure you’ll be the one to wish you had never tried this stupid game.” 

Hyuck knew of your status in the company and in his own field alone. Even if you didn’t have that leverage, a scandal like this was enough to ruin his career. As an increasingly important member he couldn’t afford an affair scandal, it wasn’t going well for any of his other coworkers.  

So when he swore to never let it happen you rushed him to the lounge, taking the coat, putting it on, and walking to the washroom hoping the red head would be there. Lord knows you’d rather cry in one than let anyone in the building see you a sobbing mess.  

But you’re always right, so upon opening the doors to the black marbled washroom, leaning against the matching sink— she tries to stop letting her tears spill. When the door harshly slammed, she turned around scared , only to continue her pained cries when she saw your face.  

“I didn’t know he was married if that’s what you wanted to ask.” She hiccuped, trying her best to stop. “I know.” You answer, standing next to her in front of the other sink.  

With your finger you clean up the smeared lipstick from the kiss, a reminder to her of what you can freely do whenever you want and all she could respond with was another sob. “Did he sweet talk you until you finally agreed to go out with him or something?”  

She shook her head, wiping away some loose tears. “I was the one to start it all, he was just flirty so I thought he liked me back.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with a paper towel. “That’s just how he is. He playfully flirts with everyone.” That didn’t seem to make her feel any better, it was making her feel worse.  

Angered at the turn of events, she looked at you with desperation. She could see why he wouldn’t leave you for her. You were beautiful, the way you carried yourself was so enticing and pleasant.  

You were charismatic, confident, and it seemed like everyone loved you by the way people greeted you upon entering the lounge before him. Of course he wasn’t going to leave you, you were a diamond in the rough.  

“Why are you here?” She questioned desperately, feeling more tears coming this time. With your lipstick at hand, you threw her a glance ignoring her as you retouched the color. When you had finished you turned to her, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.  

“I don’t blame you, you didn’t know he was married and the bastard was just having his little fun while I was away at your expense. But now you do know he’s married so I better not see you near him again.” The clicking of yours heels bold as your words upon reaching the golden handle. 

Turning to her waiting for a response. “You’re not sorry about it, right?” You smiled at her, genuine curiosity upon the question. “Why should I be? You said it yourself. He was having his fun at my expense… Maybe just for you.” She sniffled again, clutching the paper towel to her chest.  

“Smart girl.” With a final nod, you made your way out, dropping the facade and rushing to the elevator down to the basement and to your car. Just like she had, you allowed your tears to flow while leaning on the steering wheel, your hands slamming full force against the dashboard the louder your sobs became.  

Everything from that point on went downhill. The dog perhaps had felt the atmosphere and months later had died leaving you alone to fend off your repressed emotions on your own. A month after that Hyuck had made you leave the company you worked at, given your state, along telling you he needed more time with you and perhaps nothing would’ve happened if you didn’t travel out the country for months on end. It all led to where you were at now. 

If it wasn’t for Mark being around, you’d still be moping about the situation. How can someone that’s done everything in his power to be with you and love you more than he loves himself do that to you? 

How can he, after four years together, allow something like this to happen when you’re not home and then blame you for the happenings? If you hadn’t interrupted them, he would’ve confessed he also felt something for her. Not as strong as he feels for you but he would still feel an attachment. 

“Just, please…” He pleaded, fear in his voice. “I keep telling myself not to write to you all the time, but the mere thought of you is so strong, but I can’t help writing thousands of letters to you everyday and every second. I hope you like the seaweed treats, and make them all for you.’ I hope you like the seaweed treats. I make them all for you.' You fucking hate, seaweed Hyuck.” 

He was more amazed that you memorized all that but knowing how you were you had probably fixated on that part of each letter that entire week he gave them to you. “I read over your letters day and night. Can’t stop thinking about you and I know I’ve told you multiple times not to tell me how you feel, a part of me can tell how you feel from all your letters and the way you touch me.”

“Y/n, stop!” Hyuck yelled at you. He didn’t really understand if he was more angry that you still brought it up or that you kept reciting stuff you were keeping away from him. “I wish the cheek kisses were more than just that, sometimes I really wish I could kiss you but for now I’ll settle for this.’ That’s before you your last few letters by the way.“ 

He was driving recklessly at this point, the car, either speeding or swerving, but neither of you could care much. Before you knew what he had pulled up to the basement of your apartment complex, parking in the assigned spot.

Neither of you got out of the car. He just sat there in silence basking in the uncomfortable atmosphere that both of you created. 

“You know I still think about that cheek kiss, and how many more there have been.

“Probably just as many as the ones you’ve been giving Mark.”

It was your time to scoff offendedly, looking at him with disgust and anger in your eyes. “Aw fuck you! Mark and I have always been platonic! And yes I do tell him everything, he listens to me, he remembers the small things, he actually tries to be of comfort unlike you.” 

Your fists found your thighs, the textile of his coat sliding off to the floor of the car. “By the way, really? Sending him to buy the gift?” Pulling at the locket, you show it to him. “You’re sad you’re not the man I met…” You slumped back against the car seat, unbuckling yourself ready to get out. 

“Well neither are you! You’re not that lively girl anymore—“

“Because you ruined me! You make everyone around you miserable! Mark and I have a great time until you come home and bring us down with you! You suck like the life out of people, Hyuck. Even the dog died because of what you started!”

That was enough for the both of you. Glaring each other down in silence as the animosity settled around you, suffocating you both to the point you just shook your heads and threw the towels and remaining coats to the back of the car while stepping out, slamming the car door and leaving him be, hearing his screams as he slammed his fists on the wheel and dashboard while you walked away. 

Just like the day that started all this, you rushed to the elevator allowing your sobs to become louder. With every rising number, your pleas to stop the tears followed suit in case Mark was still awake. 

You didn’t want him to see you like this. It already pains you enough that Haechan was able to see you crumble because of him, you didn’t want Mark to see how vulnerable you could be again. 

But what you didn’t know is that Mark has already seen your vulnerability besides your anniversary night. With every passing month he’s stayed with you, you granted him an open window of what else you could offer and he liked that more and more as the days passed. 

Entering the threshold of the apartment and leaving the door unlocked for when Donhyuck decided to come in, your feet waltzed towards Mark’s room. The faintest of music could be heard, you couldn’t hear him but you could hear the song. 

‘Someday you will ache like I ache…’  

Sang in a loop, spinning inside your head the closer you got to the door. Hyuck was right, you did want to open the door and tell Mark tonight’s happenings. You wanted him to take you into an embrace and comfort you but you didn’t want Hyuck to be right and your initial thoughts on your vulnerability weren’t allowing it either. 

There was nothing else to do but head towards your bedroom, throwing Hyuck’s pillow to the living room before finally locking the door behind you. The song kept repeating itself as you prepared yourself for bed, the volume in your head increasing with every movement you made up until your head hit your cold lonesome pillow. 

The stupid song was only making you want Mark to be right beside you, to at least see him before you slept so you could end the night in a good note and not the bitterness your husband made you endure. 

So now that your face wasn’t as puffy from the crying and only the tingling remained, you jumped from the bed rushing to his room glad Hyuck was taking his time in the garage. 

The pitter-patter of your feet against the tile was loud for you, the creaking of his door making you wince as it screeched at you, and the song was even more loud to you than it already was. 

Illuminated by a desk lamp and the city lights while his curtains remained slightly ajar, you approached his resting body. He looked so peaceful in this position, holding tightly to one of the pillows. It’s decor fur rustling with the whistles of his silent snores. Aside from peaceful, he looked beautiful. 

The image of him was making your chest twist and turn; crouching down to eye level when your hand subconsciously fell to his face. Caressing the growing stubble he tried so hard to remove but you loved so much.

He wasn’t much of a deep sleeper, the touch alone waking him up much to your fright. Ready to remove your hand from his face, his hand held it in place as the other rubbed at his eyes. With you in front of him and the placement of your hands, Mark quizzically looked at you, still squinting away his slumber. 

“What’s up?” Was all he could muster, trying his best to smile but found it too tedious. You shook your head, returning the smile. “Did the music bother you? Let me just turn it of—“ 

“The music is fine.” You stopped him from bolting up. The last thing you wanted was for him to lose his comfort. This time around he was finally waking up, well slightly given he nodded with one eye closed and the other open, still trying hard to smile. 

“Scoot over.” Patting the pillow, he follows your orders tossing it to the other side and freeing a spot for you. When able to, you climbed on the bed beside him, facing him and taking his arm to wrap around your waist as if you were that pillow. 

Mark felt shaky at the situation, his hands becoming clammy and trying his best for you to not figure out how nervous you were making him. “So… It’s your turn to sleep here tonight?” He joked, his smile finally showing. 

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head, causing him to chuckle. “He’d rather see me sleeping on the road than being in bed with another man.” Noticing his rising fright, your finger pressed against your lip, signaling that it’ll be your little secret to which he nodded trying his best to have that smile return. 

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a good night again?” His eyes fixated on the way your face muscles contorted. “It is now!” You laugh, taking a hold of his hand squeezing it between your hands. Mark reciprocated the laugh, his body unconsciously getting closer to yours. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You shook your head. “I do want to talk about my favorite person right now, though.” You turn to him, cupping his cheek in your now free hand. He smiled shyly, eyes shutting tight the more overwhelmed he became. 

“Is tomorrow’s interview still on?” As told to the wives of Hyuck’s coworkers, you had been helping Mark during his job hunt. Contacting old bosses of yours and art lovers in hopes they’d take him in and help him gain that passion for the arts on a commercial level. 

Though things were radio silent these months, finally someone had called him back and asked if he could go in for an interview in hopes of hiring him for some installations for a new chain of restaurants the man was soon to open and maybe a position at one of his studios. 

With the mention of the interview, his already wide eyes grew and a coat glossed over the moment he began to excitedly ramble about his ideas and just genuine happiness of finally going back into a studio. 

He was adorable to say the least; the unintentional stammering, his slipping laughs from joy, and his unconscious emotional movements the more he got excited over this opportunity. To say the least perhaps Mark and you weren’t too far with how you felt and you weren’t much better than Hyuck. 

Nevertheless, if he was going to be selfish then you would too. 

“Then make sure to get a goodnight sleep so you can look refreshed and ready. Prayers, you'll get it!” You exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. 

He didn’t hesitate this time, arms tightening around you. His hands begin to roam against your skin and his exhales landing on your hair, rustling them like ferns in a windy gloom beach. It felt too familiar yet foreign as the sensation was new but the visual wasn’t. 

“Night.” He whispered against your ear, his long fingers tracing patterns against your flesh to the point goosebumps formed. Mark smiled at the reaction, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, fighting to not inch closer to the swollen lips.  

“Night…” you whispered back when he let you go, staring at each other whilst you struggled to get out of his bed, the smell and warmth of you intoxicating him tonight. 

“By the way, Hyuck is still in the car. Do you mind getting him if he doesn’t come back by the time you go to sleep?” There the moment went at the mention of his best friend, your husband. His smile dropped but he nodded. 

Finally being able to close the door behind you, your feet rushed to lock the apartment door then your shared bedroom with Haechan who even now had not returned not thinking about how the mention of him had drastically changed Mark’s demeanor.

Situated in your cold bed once again, the city lights being the only source of illumination and the mixture of Mark’s song with the water pipes lulled you into the night. The thoughts of how history was only repeating itself with the exception that it was your turn to get a lick of Happiness. 

Mark did make you happy and his actions tonight only worked as reassurance that he saw you the same way you were seeing him now. As fucked as this entire situation is, it’s only fair that Hyuck aches like you have been these years.

Morning came and all that was left of Hyuck was his pillow right next to your head, his smell lingering in the sheets when you woke and his spot still warm. Maybe he hadn’t spent the night in Mark’s room or he had paid you a visit while you slept but you still couldn’t let your anger subside.

As in for Mark, you both ignored any lingering attraction, his chirpy self hyping the possibilities of getting the job. That’s what you liked about Mark, even when in a rut he was trying his best to act positive. 

With the goal of getting through that interview, you sat in the waiting room, idly flipping through the magazines as he talked with your old friend. Prayers in your tongue, sliding around and hoping he’d get it. 

So when he walked out through the white doors, smiling and laughing along to the jokes of the man beside him, things only looked as bright as him. His tie was a mess, flimsy and slightly undone. The button of his shirt undone and showing enough clavicle, smudges of graphite mixing in with sweat. His dress pants were worse off, splatter of oil paint in the bottom and drying stoneware seeping in. 

Disturbance in your face overpowered the smile you tried to give him, insanely frustrated for how much trouble it would be to remove all those stains. But it later dawned on you that he did his own laundry and often told you to not do these things for him. 

On one end it was nice that he assured you he didn’t depend on you but on the other you wanted him to— you were getting too used to the life Hyuck and you have been living… god, you seem to have forgotten all the times you’ve fought with him to do laundry as well, now you just do it for both of you. 

“Don’t look so gloom, darling. I didn’t beat him.” The older man told you, your muscles relaxing at his soft voice. “You did add trouble to the laundry load, Yasuki.” Your fingers ran across the stained spots, not quite noticing how Mark flexed his muscles from your touch, nervously laughing at the happenings. 

If you could see how you were looking at him you’d probably slap yourself. Your eyes glistened at the sight of him, his brown locks tamed back but that strand of hair still managed to fall over and play with his vision. It didn’t help that he was sweaty and his shirt was showing you a bit more skin than expected. 

“So how did he do?” You question straightening Mark’s sleeves. “That’s for him to tell you,” he winked at you, noticing he had a brush in hand to which he tapped against his leg. “I’d like to catch up but I have a meeting in five, so please excuse me.” His mustache ruffled a bit with every movement of his lip. 

You found it endearing how charismatic the old man was. He was so jolly that as he parted ways from you both, he skipped towards his office, that same brush tapping on his knees twice with each step. In a better life you’d want to be that happy. 

“So?” You question Mark, hand reaching to wipe his forehead and rid of his sweat. “So?” He mimicked, a bright smile that could only make you mirror it with every step you two took towards the elevator. 

The ding was heard and the doors ungraciously opened, both stepping in. “Come on~” you whined at his lack of response, Mark laughing quietly at how desperate you sounded. 

“Well how would you think I did?” He asks, stepping out the elevator once the doors opened, following after you. You shrugged on the way to the car, letting him speed his step to open the door for you. 

“You have to give me more than that if you expect an answer.” He cheekily smiles down on you, closing the passenger’s door and walking over to the driver's side. “Judging from how you came back, I’d say he had you working quite hard so he probably liked your style!” Excitement laced your voice, turning to him after buckling up. 

“Ding ding ding!” You look at him with joy. “So you got the job?!” Your voice was now squeaky, eyes almost bulging out. “Yes and no… he gave me some options first.” Cocking an eyebrow and leaning your head to the side, you looked at him with huge curiosity. 

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, tongue nervously swiping across his bottom lip, eyes averting to avoid yours. “One… if I want to continue with my own mediums, I’d have to relocate to his studio in a different city. It’s not as far, maybe two hours or so but far for a daily trip it is.”

You felt your world crumble and he had only given you the first option, you felt it stab your chest repeatedly. “Or two— his studio an hour away but it’s strictly digital art and design. It’s much closer and maybe if I take the express lines at the highway it’ll be faster but— I have no clue how digital art works so I’d be quite behind than the rest of the team.”

Mark was more concerned with his options that he failed to see the bigger image. With whatever option he took, he’d have to leave you regardless and that’s what was killing you right now. Your excitement was gone and right now you regretted recommending him. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He finally stopped his blabbering, noticing the look on your face was the same one you gave Hyuck when he hurt you. If there was something Mark didn’t want was to be compared to his best friend. 

“You’ll be moving out won't you?”

“Well yeah…”

You shift on your spot, head hanging low. 

“Please don’t. I promise we don’t mind you staying, actually it’s been the best thing to happen to me.” He dismissed the fact that you were talking about yourself, not wanting to make illusions out of it. 

“Y/n,” he softly chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek and making you turn to him. “I can’t commute daily for one-to-two hours, honey.” 

Oh… that wasn’t good. 

The sweet adoring look in his eyes wasn’t helping either. “Come on, I did tell you I’d stay for only a little bit didn’t I?” He tenderly smiled, thumb playing with the corner of your lips, all you could do was pout at him. 

“I didn’t expect it to be too short, I like you around. It’d be better if you just stayed with us.” He found your protruding lower lip adorable, unconsciously rubbing his thumb across it. “Thanks, but you guys are married, I can’t just third wheel all the time. Maybe if you two were just dating it’d be different but you're not and sooner or later you’ll form a family, I’d just stick out like a sore thumb.”

A family with Donghyuck? God, you put that thought in the back burner for too long after the incident that the words were making you ill now. Even when you two were dating, the idea of a family wasn’t something pleasant.

Mark took your silence as you still being sad about him possibly leaving, patting your arm and stretching his arms to take you in an embrace. “Don’t be so pouty, it won’t do us any good.” He spoke against your ear once his arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

He felt warm, his musk even more prominent than last night. Your own arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer even when the shift stick was in between. 

“Just really wish you wouldn’t leave us…” you pulled away slightly, enough to make him turn to look at you. “Wouldn’t leave me.” In a whisper, the words hit his lips. 

Mark’s lips parted, shaky breaths leaving as he noticed how close you were. When the lingering stares didn’t subside until you leaned in to what he assumed was a kiss to his cheek; it took him by surprise when your lips fell upon his. 

His eyes widened in shock but the flavor of your cherry stain was too sweet and the taste of you was intoxicating. He’d be a liar if he said wanted to pull away but just with all temptation, Mark fell into it. 

His arms tightened around you, his eyes shutting and finally reciprocating the kiss you initiated. He loved the small whines that spilled from your lips. He swallowed them all with every passing that he’d part his, deepening the kiss and both your hands began to roam. 

You felt it in your core, that excruciating desire when his nimble fingers danced around the hem of your shirt, finding an opening so he could stick his hand under it. Your flesh was cold against his, aching at how his fingers cooled with just a touch. 

Your hands had unraveled from his waist, now playing with the buckle of his belt. Popping it open, and continuing the quest with his pants. He’d harden with every touch of yours, your palm rubbing his cock over the strained textile that only made him ache more.  

His warm fingers felt like fire against your freezing flesh, they danced across your back, caressing it until they met with the strap of your bra. Playing with the clasp until he was able to unbuckle it and his hands rushed to your breasts, kneading the mounds that seemed to be made for his hands. A perfect fit. 

Your moans loudly cascaded into his mouth, his tongue enveloping yours with every passing kiss. When your hands managed to pull at the hem of his briefs and finally grasp his hardened shaft; his own moans became present.

Eyes shut tightly, he bit your lower lip pleasurably painful. Your hands had warmed up in the process of touching him, that warmth making him feel like pity under your grasp with every pump you gave his cock. 

“I want to taste you.” Your voice broke him out of his daze, your lips finding solace in his neck, licking and nipping at the flesh. Mark moans vibrating through his throat, making you ravish his neck even more, your hand moving at a rhythm that was causing him to shake under you. 

Upon opening his eyes, it had dawned on him that you two were still in the parking lot of the studio. A wave of freight flooded him and a gasp left his lips along a worried ‘fuck’. 

“Wait, stop, stop!” His abruptness confused you and almost scared you. If he was regretting this already you didn’t know how to take it. “We can’t do it here, I think I saw a lake not far from here.” But he put your mind at ease making your concerned frown turn into a smile, leaning in to kiss him as he tucked himself back in.

Looking around to make sure no one had seen anything, Mark rushed out of the parking lot. Your labored breaths faintly mixing with the radio conductor mentioning to make plans for the new millennium and enjoy the last months of this year. 

Some were frightened and others were scared. As for you, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Mark arrived to you months before the 2000s. Maybe that’s the new beginning everyone is talking about. 

Minutes later, you’d arrive at the lake he was talking about. Maybe it was because he was speeding from his excessive desire but he found a spot in which you’d both be hidden from the public. Rushing out and towards you; Mark made sure to cramp both of you inside the backseat. 

From how rushedly you both went in, some bumps along the way weren’t missed, making you both whine but forget about it when looking at each other. Hyuck wasn’t present in Mark’s mind but he was in yours. 

You were really doing this and remorse was difficult to find. 

“God, I’m so glad I can have you like this.” His lips spewed after each of his kisses on you. They were warm with every passing peck, attaching themselves to yours. Your hips began rutting against his groin, the thin piece of skirt doing nothing to hold off. 

Instantly Mark could feel the wet patch, groaning at how warm it was. Fuck, he wanted you badly. 

Upon pulling away from the kiss you two were too enthralled in, Mark looked at you through hooded dark eyes. He looked at you as if you were prey, the one who’d succumb to him and the way his grip on your waist tightened told you so.

Patting your ass while bunching up your skirt, “Lay on your back, I wanna eat you out.” His voice had dropped an octave, the huskiness making you shiver as you unbutton your blouse, the bra falling gracefully once free from the confinement of the buttons.

Curses spilled from his lips looking at you on his journey to kneel on the floor of the car, trying his best to push up the front seats to give him enough space. His once dark eyes glistened at the view of you, all that was left was the tiny fabric of your panties and the bunch around your waist. 

He caressed your thighs, leaning in to leave tiny wet kisses against the flesh that caused your eyelids to flutter from how close he was to your cunt. You could feel his breath fanning over the area, your legs twitching as he inched closer and closer.

When his lips hovered over your clothed cunt, Mark looked at you through his lashes, smirking at the state he had left you, blowing on your aching mound. “Stop fucking around.” You whined, hands clutching onto your breast, fingers twirling around your perked buds.

Mark chuckled, nodding in response before his fingers pushed aside the fabric of your panties. Moans erupting from his throat with every strand of your arousal stuck to your panties. He didn’t take much to please you, his own want taking over his being. 

Mark felt too happy about having you that he didn’t think about anything, not even the fact that he was betraying his best friend. Essentially his brother. 

His tongue came in contact with your slit, swiping upwards to meet your clit and continue the process of enticing kitty licks. You’ve been starved for so long that just the simple caress of his warm muscle was making you wither underneath him.

Your fingers danced across your skin, leaving warm trails on the frozen canvas. You couldn’t stop looking at him, progressively divulging further the more he fell obsessed with the taste of you. Mark ravaged the cavern between your legs, his lips glossed over by your juices that dripped down his chin.

He looked beautiful.His eyes screwed shut as he savored you, tongue laying flat when it wasn’t on your clit, his fingers grappling your thighs tightly enough to not let you go, and his lips refusing to let their suction go from you clit.

Your moans cascaded out your lips like a siren’s song, reeling him deeper and deeper into your trap. He didn’t mind, if he was to die at your hands then so be it, at least he’ll die blissfully. 

Enveloping his rosy lips on your clit, he latched onto it for dear life. Suctioning with force, much to your pleasure, Mark basked in the whimpers you let out. Withering under his touch and crying when he only kept granting you more pleasure. 

It didn’t help he teased your entrance with his fingers, making you cry over how much you wanted to feel full. In that instance, he parted from you, allowing you to spew your angry whimpers. 

“Look at me.” He patted your thigh forcefully enough to leave a sting behind. “Come on.” He demanded, repositioning himself closer to you, a perfect fit between his face and your cunt.

When you were finally able to open your eyes, you breathed out at the experience he was granting. “Don’t look away or close your eyes. I’ll stop if you do.” He menacingly spoke, smirking at how you responded with a frown and a nod. 

“Good girl. ” Fuck.

Breaking eye contact with you; Mark puckered his lips, accumulating spit that as of now he was letting slide down his tongue and onto your cunt. That same muscle poking out to spread it across your labia and clit. 

A hand came up to your mouth, trying your best to muffle the cry he caused. It didn’t help he found your frustrations amusing and his chuckles made a vibration that sent you overboard even more. 

You’d both could end up dying at each other’s hands.

His tongue lapped at your clit, collecting his spit and your arousal around the mound each time he was to suck on it. Mark knew you liked it, your body always reacted by shaking and your fingers threading onto his hair. 

He liked the sting from when you pulled on his locks. He liked when you shoved his face closer to the point you began to ride his face while his tongue penetrated you, licking upon every inch of your walls. It didn’t help that he tried his best to not break eye contact. With every moment and action, you’d both look at each other like your life depended on it. 

“Mark please… please let me finish, fuck—“ it came out strangled. His fingers clung to your skin, rubbing your clit each time his lips left it to allow his tongue to fuck you. 

He hummed against your cunt, warm breath fanning over it before kissing it passionately again. Mark didn’t respond but he did give you a show. With the way he sensually stuck out his tongue to caress your slit upon allowing his lips to land on your mound, you couldn’t help but feel that excruciating pit in your stomach flow to core, tingling painfully. 

He teased you each time. When he laid his tongue flat, he’d throw you a glance before shutting his eyes and swallowing your essence, fully intoxicated by it. 

“Mark!” You whined, a chilling tantrum to ensue. “Alright, alright, you big baby.” He laughed, swiveling his tongue flat against you. You felt your eyes roll and when he thought you were disobeying his one request, he nipped your thigh, causing you to squeal at the shock. 

“What did I tell you?” He cocked his eyebrow, teeth clenching around your sensitive flesh. “I’m looking, I’m looking.” You reassured, a look of despair on your face. A silent snort left him before resuming his activities. 

All that was heard was the mixture of labored breaths, cries, his deep moans, and the squelching between your cunt and his mouth. You couldn’t hold back much longer, it was becoming overstimulating and Mark didn’t hold back off much with how he worked his tongue. 

He seemed to sense your frustrations. His fingers picked up the pace on your bud, pressing down for more friction while his tongue entered you. Pistoning in and out, collecting every drop and making sure it didn’t spill to the car seat. 

You couldn’t hold much longer, your thighs clenched around his face, causing him to look directly at you while your body gave out on you.  He pressed down on your lower abdomen with his free hand. In a matter of seconds, you twisted under him. A coil unraveling where he held you and a loud moan leaving as a cry, your essence gushing out, covering his facial lower half.

He made sure to not let a single drop go, his tongue overstimulating you to no end but nevertheless stopped his assault. Your eyes were fixated on his, desperate want making you pull him by the neck, ravishing his lips with yours. 

The sweet nectar of you clinging to his tongue, the same tongue that waltzed around with yours. In the process of holding onto him for dear life, Mark kicked off his pants, shimming out of them and his briefs. Bare beneath, he pulled you over his aching cock, the tip gracing your lower half enough to make you squirm desperately.

“Fill me whole…” You whispered against his lips, biting them from time to time to signal how much you needed him. “Shit, looking at you is going to make me cum already.” You laughed along with him, connecting your lips again while your hips rutted against his cock. 

The silk of your walls rubbing against him, groaning in despair with every single of your movement, and he couldn’t even hold you or he’d make you go faster. He needed to be inside of you badly or he’d probably end up splattering all over his stomach.

“Yeah?” You questioned, face leaning against your shoulder, gripping his shirt so tightly it could leave wrinkles on it. “I want to paint your walls and feel it all ooze down them while I fuck it into you.” Mark’s words made you feel lightheaded, speeding up your pace and your fingernails to cling onto his shoulder blades.

He winced at the sting, removing your hands before pulling off his shirt, sweat drenching his bare chest. His proportions were insane; his slim physique enticing you to wrap your arms around him, holding tightly to his small waist as his abs clenched with the feeling of you against him.

“Lift your ass up a bit.” He commanded, holding your lower back while pumping his shaft, letting his precum collect at the tip. You took this as an opportunity to kiss the exposed skin of his neck. Your tongue licking stripes along his clavicle while it made its way to his jaw, leaving kisses all along it. 

You could feel his disgruntled moans vibrating against your lips the more he jerked himself off, leaving you dry and needy with occasionally taunting of his tip rubbing against your cunt causing you to whine against his ear for him to laugh at your misery.

“Mark, stop teasing!” You cried against his chest, your hands clinging onto him. Your hips began rutting against him again, lowering them until he’d smack his large hand across your flesh— reacting with a jolt and a gasp of arousal, your cunt never failed to clench around air. 

“You’re so needy, princess. I guess I can’t keep you waiting.” His lower lip pushed out in faux apologies, a smirk creeping out when you rolled your eyes at him. He only laughed, kissing you while aligning his cock with your cunt, eagerly ready to dive in.

He didn’t tease you anymore. Taking a grasp by your waist, Mark aided you to sink onto his cock, the stretch of his girth making you mewl like a wounded cat. You didn’t imagine him to be this big even when you held him you didn’t think much of it but now that he was fully in you and gravity was only making him fill you to the hilt, you fully felt his volume. 

His hands caressed your face and hair, patting down the strands while you tried your best to become comfortable around him. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult, maybe it was because of your lack of sexual life with Hyuck that any intrusion was foreign but God were you starting to enjoy the pain mixed with pleasure his best friend was sprawling within you. 

“You good?” He wondered, eyes fighting to keep open and experience your every movement fearing the moment would be gone if he didn’t keep himself fixated on you. “Yeah— fuck me, please…” you begged, your hips beginning to move against his. His lips fell ajar, his curses spilling in a prayer, fingers denting your skin the tighter his grip became. 

He created scratch marks along the flesh; his hips met your rhythm and your silent pleads became audible when you felt the angry tip of his cock kiss upon your walls leaving its gratitude in the form of gratification.

As for him, he felt your walls tighten around him, ready to clear him of all his cum— claiming him as your own. It wasn’t helpful that you were also holding onto him not wanting to let him go, your lips enticing him with every caress you gave. 

“You drive me insane, y/n…” he began, the sound of skin slapping against skin fading any other besides your labored breaths. His breath danced across your cheek, ruffling the hair that stuck to the sweat you produced. “I never thought we’d end up in this predicament but it feels as if it was meant to be— you for me and—“ your lips encased his, not letting him finish his sentence.

Whatever it was that he was trying to clear out was long forgotten the second your hips picked up their speed and the rhythm of your swiveling pelvis made him groan into the kiss. “I can’t get enough of you and this is only the beginning.” He laughed in between pauses, you shushed him in the process. 

You didn’t want to hear him talk besides his obscenities and praises, that’s all. It wasn’t time to bring in the reality you two will face or that awaits you. All that was precious at the moment was his cock stuffed inside your cunt causing both of you unimaginable pleasure. 

His eyes left yours, looking in between both of you. Mark lowered his head, accumulating spit in his mouth before letting the string of saliva fall onto your cunt. He took some of the spit that fell between you both and took it upon your clit. 

Biting his lower lip, pushing his hair back a bit— Mark continued to thrust his hips, fingers starting to circle at your clit clockwise. His grunts became louder just like yours with the amount of friction between you both. When his pelvic bone rubbed in between your bodies as his fingers went hard at your clit, you couldn’t help but feel your legs shake. 

The image of his spit dribbling down the tip of his tongue onto where you two connected was engraved in your mind, head throwing back by mere memory. “Do it in my mouth.” You told him, hand cupping his cheek. “Spit in it?” He questioned, you nodded, sticking your tongue out much to his pleasure. 

Puckering his lips, Mark saw the string of saliva land perfectly on your red muscle. You held it out for him to see as he thrusted into you, the pool rippled and threatened to fall with each of these jolts. Closing your mouth to swallow his residue, you stuck your tongue out again to show him you had taken all of it, simulating what you could do if it was his cum. 

He groaned at the image before him, the glistening of your sweaty chest blinding him as he pulled you closer to him by your cheeks. His fingers dug dents into your flesh as he held them tightly.

“You’re so hot, fuck!” A guttural groan left him, this time his spit was angry by the way it splattered in your mouth. This time he didn’t let you swallow it, his lips softly collided against yours, hot and angry was the plump flesh that ravished yours, nipping in hopes to receive more of your wanton noises. 

His tongue felt soft against yours, like that of satin and velvet rubbed against each other with the warmest of liquid coating them both. Sloppy the kiss was becoming, enough to let air in and make it last longer. You loved the taste of him, whether it was the mint-iness of his toothpaste or the blueberry tea he drank before leaving the apartment— it was driving you crazy how obsessed you were becoming. 

Mark was so near, with how hard he was thrusting within you, walls warm and clenching around his bare cock— all he wished for was to cum, to cum on you, in you, or over you— it didn’t matter. He just wanted to cum and now he couldn’t really help himself. 

“I can’t hold it any longer.” He warned you, removing his fingers from your clit, hands now holding tightly onto your hips. “Mark…” you whimpered, eyes barely opened, sweat accumulating at your neck making it all so sticky but it seemed to be over quite soon. Your forehead pressed against his, hand holding onto his neck. 

“Huh?” He’d respond, moving his hips once again, his pace only increased when you didn’t continue talking. “God, keep going.” You finally answered him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips before his head dipped down and kissed you once again. His lips soon trailed down your neck, tongue lapping at the thin flesh between your collarbones holding back to not leave any marks. 

It was eating him alive. Not because of Hyuck but because he wanted a mark on you to know this wasn’t a dream that he was actually fucking you and that you had chose him. But all he could muster was licking your flesh, savoring you to at least have that memory. Even the marks his teeth made disappeared quickly, taunting him and his credibility. 

You pulled his hair to make him look at you again, a pained yelp leaving his open mouth. He looked so pretty it could make you cry. In that instance you took him in for another kiss, just like him this was the only memory you could have. 

The kiss worked to muffle your increasing moans while he thrusted within you. By how close your bodies were, his lower half began rubbing at your sensitive clit. He seemed to know how sensitive you were down below as he only kept going faster and harder, allowing your fingers to dig deeper into his shoulders.

You were so close, he knew it. Mark knew how close you were and it didn’t help him at all. Your lips parted from his as yours mewls became highly audible, lips slightly agape. Mark couldn’t help but wonder how your lips covered in cum would look like. Just the imagery of the warm cloudy substance on your swollen lips made him hold onto your waist to fuck further more into you. 

“I can feel you so deep inside me,” you laughed against his neck, lips gracing his delicate flesh. “You’re twitching so much, just let go, Markie...” Your words sent him into a frenzy. His eyes screwed shut, his fingers refusing to let go of you and it wasn’t of much help that his sensitive tip was rubbing up against your warm walls. Kissing his cock with every thrust and squeezing in frustration every time it threatened to leave them. 

Oh, fuck he couldn’t help himself. With one last thrust and on the verge of cumming; Mark pushed you further down his cock as much as he could despite how much he’s abused your cunt with this same action alone. You clenched around him from the friction, your pleasured cries from the impact locking inside his ears making his cock leak like an angry water hose in the horrid summer trying to release everyone from the heat. 

You felt the spurts shoot painfully within you, a new wave of pleasure that shocked you from how long you haven't felt cum coat your cavern. The instance he did, your own eyes bulged out, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ that graced against his.

Both shared moans, swallowing them while trying to breathe and in the process you felt that same flush of pleasure in your lower abdomen. You chased your orgasm, continuing your movement against his cock, overstimulating him to the point he felt an ache with each stroke but if it meant you were feeling good, then so be it.

It wasn’t much longer until you felt that ache as well, slowing down the movement of your hips, your grip loosening from him but his didn’t on you. Upon stopping your actions, Mark brought you face closer, his lips leaving sloppy kisses along your temple and side of the face, while his praises spilled like a lullaby.

“ You did so good …” He huffed out, kisses on your cheek. “ You did so good for me, princess .” He swallowed trying to regain his breath, forehead connecting with yours in the process of trying to calm yourself down as well.

“You’re so good to me, y/n. You’re too good to me, you were made for me, you’re mine.” He chuckled, patting your cheek to make sure your fluttering eyes looked into his round doe ones. You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you an opportunity to do so. 

With a quick and final kiss from him, Mark took you into an embrace, arms tightly around you with no way to free yourself from it (not like you wanted to at the moment) leaving you to simply return the gesture and hold onto him tightly. His cock still buried in you.

You could hear his heartbeat fighting to calm down but having you this close to him wasn’t much help. In that instance it all came crashing down on you and him. His once happy smile fell the moment clarity came in and the trees outside rustled. Their wind chimes slipping in between branches and leaves, repeating the same thing he’s already processing. There was some shame but no guilt or regret. He felt pity for Hyuck and the friendship they had. It all came to one conclusion: 

He’s betrayed his brother.

if you liked 'happy together' then you'll like: airbag

please let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or fill out the taglist form in the masterlist! no blank or ageless blogs!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @bbymatz

#neohub #nct-writers #nctcreations18 #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #mark lee smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #haechan #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #haechan x you #haechan x reader #nct fic

[lady-phasma]

Morpheus Returns

Part 1 of 2 (so far) cross posted from AO3

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, general smut and pretty fluffy, p in v sex. Written in first person fem!reader.

Summary a/n: Morpheus returns to find a favorite acolyte has waited 100 years for him. Also a bit of headcanon: I know he doesn’t sleep but the poor entity needs a break from time to time. No beta. 2k words

He lay imperiously on the black sheets of the bed. Their blackness swallowed light, no sheen like satin or silk. Draped over his bone-white body they gave the illusion that any light in the room came from him. The sheet fell across his belly and one leg. His arms spread out to his sides. His shaggy black hair shone with flecks of light as he turned his head in his rest. The King of Dreams sighed deeply.

My every action was imbued with the deepest reverence for Lord Morpheus. Each of us in The Dreaming had our roles and responsibilities, purpose and function. We were each created for a particular role. Although things had changed since his return, I had not. I had waited for a century. As Lucienne had waited. I didn’t leave The Dreaming when others gave up. I had one purpose and my existence was devoted to it. Much like gods and goddesses, the Endless enjoyed worshipers, human or otherwise. I was created to resemble a female human. Lord Morpheus had sculpted me to be perfect for him. Without him I had no purpose. So I waited.

When he returned most of us were gone. Lucienne encouraged him to rest but he had guilt and anger to assuage. I was patient. He saw me once before leaving to find his tools. How I had missed his expressive eyes and perfect mouth. I slid my fingers down his cheek.

“You look tired, my Lord,” I whispered.

“I am, Asteria,” he glanced down at me. “But I will return and I will make good use of our bed.”

My heart ached for his return but I busied myself with helping restore The Dreaming. I especially focused on his quarters. His palace staff gradually returned, as did his dreams and nightmares, but among them all I was cherished. He had given me my own personality, interests, abilities, but I was his design. My very being was sculpted to be his own dream. Each dream or nightmare in The Dreaming was his creation but created for others, for humans. I alone was formed for him, the physical manifestation of his desires. My limbs were long, my skin nearly as pale as his, and my body blessed with ample curves. My breasts were firm and high above a small rounded belly. My hips weren’t narrow but neither were they broad. My entire body was inhumanly hairless like his, except for long chestnut locks that fell, curling down my back. We only possessed human form, we were far from human. He had even named me in honor of the Titaness Asteria, the goddess of falling stars and oneiromancy. She had once had the ability to call him to her at will, Endless or not, to divine meaning from dreams.

I only slightly regretted disturbing his repose. He had previously promised me an audience and given me express instructions when to rouse him. My audiences with Dream were entirely selfish on his part. However, since I was created as a devotee there was immense pleasure in it for me as well.

I stood at the foot of the bed and let my nightgown fall off my shoulders. I climbed onto the bed. My eyes ran up the length of his body, along his exposed leg, his flat stomach, his taught chest, and his perfect collar bones. I sat next to him, my legs curled beneath me. I cupped his cheek in my palm and pressed my lips against his. He moaned into my mouth. His eyes opened just a fraction and he wrapped his long arms around me. I let my body sink into his embrace. This was the first proper kiss we had shared since his return. I wanted to touch every part of him at once. My hands roamed over his shoulders and chest.

“Time to rise, my Lord,” I mumbled into our kiss.

“Yes I suppose it is,” he sighed as he laid back. He placed one hand behind his head and let the other rest on my thigh, his long fingers almost brushing against my sex. His every movement was calculated. It was evident in the twitch at the corners of his mouth that he was enjoying teasing me.

Morpheus sighed again. He briefly closed his eyes. His hand moved slightly on my thigh. It was my turn to sigh.

I propped myself up on one arm and reached to stroke his chest, his arm, anything I could reach. This slight, intentional movement of my hips pressed his fingertips just against my lips. I shivered. He very nearly smiled at my urgency.

I moved to lean above him and began to kiss every inch of him that I could find. I kissed his neck, his chest, his nipples, under his arms, down his ribs. I gradually straddled him as I moved down his body. In doing so I pulled the sheet off of him. He had begun to grow hard at my touches. Oh how I had missed him! But I wanted to draw out my worship as long as possible. And worship I did. I slid my hands over his smooth, marble-like skin. I mumbled praise against his body, whispers of longing and adoration.

He had moved his other hand to rest under his head and lay almost perfectly still. There was a tinge of smile on his pouted lips. He was extremely satisfied. Anyone other than the two of us couldn’t possibly know the praise that was in that close, tight near-smile. It spurred me on. I had waited so long for this and I loved that I pleased him. I trailed kisses down his stomach.

“My Lord,” I said between kisses. “Mmmm… shall I leave you… mmmm… to continue resting?” My eyes shot up to meet his, my lips still on his skin. My grin was obvious.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. He reached down, placing a hand on either side of my face, and guided me up to kiss him. I spread my legs wider to press our bodies together and he raised his hips up to meet mine. His fingers wound into my hair eliciting a moan from me. His tongue pushed past my lips and teeth. Everything about him was long: legs, tongue, fingers. Another part of him that was quite long pressed against my backside. He had grown harder as I rubbed against him. I pressed my wetness against his belly to force a moan from him.

Morpheus withdrew his hands from my hair and rose up. He lifted me off him, onto my knees. With his hands cupping my ass, he kissed my breasts and my neck.

“You waited,” he murmured. “All these years… you waited.”

“Mmmhmm,” I responded. I buried my face in his hair and wrapped my arms around his neck. I held him close to my chest. I breathed in deeply. “Yes, my Lord. The thought of this moment and memories of the many before kept me warm while you were away. I only wish I could ease your suffering, your hurt.”

He turned his face up to mine and I kissed him, deep and hard. He kissed me back. He maneuvered my hips so that he could guide me down onto his lap. His hardness pressed into me. No hesitation, no resistance, a perfect fit. I gripped and pulled at his hair as the pleasure swept over me. He guided and moved me where and how he wanted. I was attuned to the movement of each of his muscles. His skin against mine felt perfect.

With no warning he flipped us over. He let me down on my back gently but that was all that was gentle. I could tell how badly he had missed me. He never needed excess words or expressions of sentiment with me. Allowing me to touch him, to pull him into myself, to hold him, was evidence enough. As emotionless as Dream wished for others to think him he was in fact often brimming with emotion. He buried his face in my neck and breathed deeply. He pushed himself further into me. I gasped and threw my head back, clutching at his shoulders. I felt warmth and wetness on my neck. I stroked his hair. His rhythm slowed. He made no sound but I knew, I could feel the silent tears. His embrace tightened around me, crushing me into him.

I resisted the urge to shush and console him. For far too long his actions had been governed by others. I was created to be the sole entity in his existence that didn’t require anything of him. I loved it. I cherished that he could let his guard down with me, shed all pretense. His muscles flexed within the circle of my arms. His tears stopped as abruptly as they had begun, short lived and rare.

He raised his head to look at me. He cradled the back of my head in his giant hand and studied my face. His expressive, red-rimmed eyes searched my expression for judgement and finding none he kissed me.

He ran his other hand down the length of my body, down the side of my thigh, guiding my leg over his hip. I pressed my heel into the small of his back, taking him deeper. I purred and arched my back. My hard nipples brushed against his chest. With his elbow bearing his weight, one hand behind my head, the other kneading my ass, I was enveloped by love. I was safe, my Dream had returned.

“Oh Morpheus,” I moaned. I stroked his face, his jaw, his ears and neck. I drew my fingertips across his perfect bottom lip. He kissed them as they passed. He held my gaze with his dark eyes. I saw the universe flash in them. That energy, that power, loved me. His rhythm had never faltered. His strokes were small and intimate. He was savoring our time. That connection was secondary to the reunion he so deeply desired.

But the moment passed and his expression became impassive once again. His stern jaw and pursed lips drove me wild. My breathing was shallow and hot against his neck. My hands had found their way back to his shoulders. I moved my other leg to encircle him. His pace quickened. I clung to him as if even momentarily losing my hold would allow him to disappear again.

Dream felt my need.

His fingers twisted and pulled at my hair. He slid his other hand between us to my breast, kneading, and caused me to arch against him. I was breathless, the entirety of my senses were filled with Morpheus. I kissed his shoulders, his neck. I squeezed, tight, around him as he thrust into me. The blunt exhalations he made as I did this sent electricity through me.

I felt his resolve melting. His rested his head beside mine, his shallow breath hot against my ear. I thought I heard him whisper my name. I moved my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. I tugged slightly. He groaned. His hand slid from my breast to rub circles around my clit as he pushed deep into me, synchronizing his rhythms. My grasp on his hair tightened.

He pressed his entire body against mine, nothing save his arm between us. The pressure on my clit increased. I dug my heels into his ass, demanding he go as deep as possible. I realized I had been holding my breath and as I exhaled, my face still pressed against his, I moaned his name in half a dozen languages. And came hard and wet around him.

“My Asteria,” he breathed against me. “My love, how I missed you.” So quietly a mortal may not have been able to hear him.

A shiver ran over him, beginning at his shoulders and radiating outward. He exhaled sharply and I felt his final thrust deep into me. His cum was warm and slick between us. Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew from experience that they wouldn’t show me the universe at this moment. They would be as black as a void. He almost purred into my neck as his body relaxed.

He slipped his arm from between us and let his full weight rest on me. I slid my legs down, still embracing my Lord. His hand in my hair loosened and rested on the bed beside us. He kissed my ear and began to raise his head.

“Please not yet, Morpheus,” I whispered. “We have spent so long apart.”

He raised his head to look at me and truly smiled.

“I will not leave you just yet,” he stroked my cheek and kissed me gently on the forehead. “I would imagine we need to do that a few more times before I do.”

Part 2

#dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman netflix #sandman fanfiction #morpheus #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus x ofc reader #morpheus smut #fem!reader #morpheus x reader

[chrizztopher97]

WARNING: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

DOM!Chan, SUB!FemReader, swearing, oral, piv, protected sex, marking, breast play, praise, jealous behaviour (Chan), name calling (babygirl, darling, good girl, cutie, darling), fluff.

You, Y/N Lee, and your brother, Alexander, finally arrived to your new University.

Universal University, situated in Melbourne, a brand new place where international students could finally gather from all around the world and find their own path. They can study anything and everything they want, they choose their own courses and can always change path based on their own accord. Celebrities would also study and attend there, some open about it and others asking for the private VIP zone to not get disturbed.

"You think we'll find lots of celebrities here?" Your older brother questioned, his hands still on the wheel as he looked for a place to park the car.

"Who knows, for all I've gathered from the pamphlet of the uni, many people got switched to this building for practical reasons so.. why not." You answered as you rummaged inside your handbag to get the map of the university premises.

Once again you've looked at the entire map, it felt as if you would enter an entire city rather than just a mere campus.

"Holy shit, look at the entrance baby sis." Alexander's voice caught your attention making you gaze up from the paper you were holding.

"Damn, feels like royalty." You joked as he finally parked the car.

The ten hours ride suddenly felt non-existent on your shoulders but you knew your brother would end up falling asleep by the time he got inside his dorm room.

"Thank God we returned in Australia earlier." You murmured stepping out of the vehicle, hanging your handbag on your shoulder.

"Yeah, we definitely took the right call. If we didn't catch that flight from Seoul..." he mumbled opening the trunk of the car.

"We would have probably missed the chance of resting back home in Sydney before the ride." You giggled shaking your head as you got your luggage.

"Not only that." He spoke as he took his baggage. "We wouldn't have had the time to send our stuff right here. Imagine the trouble in moving around with all those boxes while we tried to find our rooms." He said closing the trunk and locking the car.

"For real, specially because I easily get lost." You pouted making him laugh profusely.

Joking around as you walked the long path of the entrance, you took in the surroundings. The fresh air engulfing your body, hair brushed by the delicate wind. You inhaled deeply and smiled.

The campus definitely looked way bigger than what the map designed. The main building being the place where you'll be studying, on the right a huge cafeteria as big as a 3 Star Michelin restaurant, right next to it the dormitory looking like a huge apartment building, right next to it the health care building with a pharmacy and some doctors as per instructed in the pamphlet and then, as if it wasn't enough, a gym. You also read there would be some stadiums for sports such as football, basketball, volleyball, etch...

"Where was the lobby to get our room keys and stuff?" Alexander's voice brought you back from your trance as you looked around.

Your gaze swifted from the green trees to the map. "In the main building." You mumbled pointing at the big sign.

You silently thanked the person who opened this campus for putting signs in front of the buildings or else you would have ended up in the cafeteria instead of your dorm room.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After getting your room keys and the floor number you walked to the dormitories, aiming at the still opened elevator that was right in front of you.

As you saw it slowly closing, you called out politely. "One sec, please."

Thankfully whoever was in put their hand in the semi closed door and held it still, leaving you space to enter. Unknowingly thanking with a small bow as per habit for all the time you've lived in Seoul, South Korea, you entered.

Squeezing inside the elevator, you put yourself right in the corner, perfectly fitting as you didn't really excell in height. You despised that characteristic of yours but it did come in handy in these kind of situations.

"Press floor eight, if you didn't." You whispered as you nudged your brother's arm making him pointing at the button already pressed.

"Can't wait to take a shower and doze off." He mumbled resting his arm on your head making you look up to him and shook his arm off.

"I'm not an arm holder." You scoffed him off as you yawned. "But lucky you, I'll probably be wide awake even though I've slept what? Two hours?" You whined stretching your arms up.

Once the elevator arrived to your floor, you exited and thanked once again the guys that were slowly walking out the lift right behind you.

"Wow!" You exclaimed looking at the huge window that showed a forest outside.

More than the scenery, you were more surprised at how the first wow came out, reminding you of the way Bang Chan would say it. Making you unknowingly giggle at the thought.

Yes, you were a STAY since God's Menu era even though you used to listen to Stray Kids and 3RACHA music since pre debut, you just didn't have much time to get into details but when you did, it felt like diving into an ocean of affection, laughter and fun.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Once in front of your dorm room, you turned around and gave a light hug to your brother who kissed your head before turning and going to his room right in front of yours.

Unlocking the room, you heard the water coming from the shower running, giving you signal that your roommate would be already there.

Taking off your shoes, you walked barefoot to the empty bed, probably the one you'll be sleeping from now on.

Without waiting a second, you put on your earpods and knocked softly at the door of the bathroom.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Your roommate. Take your time in the bathroom, we can introduce ourselves later." You spoke nicely as you tied your hair in a tiny ponytail.

After connecting your pods you listened to music as you unpacked your boxes. Humming from time to time, you put the last frame on your nightstand, a picture of Channie smiling towards your way to give you the best of the good mornings.

Sighing deeply you finally adjusted your painting supplies in the small desk in front of your bed, right next to the small library.

"I guess this should be it." You mumbled looking at the empty boxes sighing at the idea of having to fix your clothes inside the wooden wardrobe.

"Shoulda have started with the clothes first.." You whispered to yourself as you opened the closet's doors, closing the ones occupied.

Once you settled all your clothes, you made a quick call to your brother.

"You sleepin', Alex?" You questioned while fixing an outfit to wear to dinner.

"Restin'.. Took a good shower after settling in. Tell me whenever you're ready for dinner." He whispered quietly, as if he tried his best to not fall asleep on you.

"Call you when I'm ready. Rest well, bro." You mumbled taking your bathroom beauty case and closing the call.

Finally the bathroom door opened revealing your roommate. It took you a while to take in the information of the face in front of yours. You look behind at your posters and then back at your roommate.

"Hey, you must be my roommate." The guy said with his deep voice as he dried his hair with a towel.

Nodding you shook your head and moved your hand ahead. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Lee." You smiled warmly as he looked at you.

"That must be why." He chuckled shaking your hand. "Felix Lee." He introduced himself taking a glance behind, staring at your wall adorned with frames of Stray Kids. "But I'm pretty sure you already know." He joked pointing at a picture of himself.

"I can take them down if you feel uncomfortable." You instantly answered, hoping he wouldn't feel any negative vibe from it.

"I don't mind at all." Shaking his head he went to sit on his bed.

After chatting for a few seconds you went inside the bathroom so you could freshen up.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Wrapped in a towel you went outside the bathroom and without looking around, you grabbed your outfit and lingerie.

"You remember only things you want, uh?" You cursed your brain as you closed the bathroom door behind you.

Drying your short, curly hair with a towel, you dressed up in your black cargo pants and a gold silky tanktop. Making sure to fix your nipple piercings the best way you could inside your laced bra.

Once completely ready you took your phone and texted your brother.

You: "Ready."

Spraying your Black Musk fragrance you put on your boots and looked around in case you missed anything.

"Going out as well?" Your roommate voice caught your attention.

"Yup. Gon' have dinner with my brother." You responded looking at him, who was also ready to go out.

"I guess we'll catch up later then." He mumbled opening the door so the both of you could step out.

Nodding you waved at him and pulled your brother by the wrist. "I'm famished."

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Walking side by side with him, you couldn't stop thinking at the fact that your roommate was one of the members of that boy group you loved so much. You've silently thanked the secretaries that mixed the details and thought that you and Felix were siblings. For some reasons he always gave the aura of being your bestie if you've ever got to know him personally.

"Oh, guess who's my roomie?" Alex caught your attention as you walked the long path to the cafeteria.

You looked at him, definitely curious and puzzled but didn't reply. Waiting for him to reveal it.

"That Kim Seungmin of your favourite boy band." He whispered to your ear, making you halt in your steps.

"No way!" You exclaimed.

"Mine is Felix." You confessed as you returned to your steps.

"What a match." He chuckled wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Chit chatting you finally arrived at the cafeteria. Entering you gasped, almost loudly. It was like an Expo. Sections with flags of every country that served their own food.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You were sitting on the bench, looking outside the window as you mindlessly ate your food and listened to your brother's rumbling.

"Care if we join you?" A deep voice brings you out of your trance.

"Felix, of cour.." You turned your gaze to the blond haired guy that was talking to you, your brain processing the other seven guys. Eyes fixed on him. "..se" you finished your sentence, trying to break away your staring.

Hearing a giggle coming from your brother, you kicked him under the table making him laugh.

Trying to keep it cool, you just smiled from time to time, your ears slightly alerted at every noise making you kinda itchy.

"So, Y/N.." Felix spoke to you, making you look up from your table.

"Yeah?" Setting the steel chopsticks on the napkin, you mumbled unknowingly using your silly face. :]

"This is your brother, correct?" He questioned pointing at Alex.

"Ah, yes. Alexander is my brother." You nodded.

As you reached for your cup, another hand reached out.

"Ah sorry, is this yours?" You giggled looking besides you only to see him.

Straightening your shoulders, you almost chocked on nothing.

"It's fine. No worries." He spoke softly, a smile forming on his lips.

Your eyes unable to look away. His curly hair falling on his forehead in such messy yet so curate curls, his eyes beaming and glowing under the lights, his nose scrunched softly as his plush, plump, soft, definitely kissable and sweet, tender lips were forming a smile. His cheeks looking so squishy with those cute and adorable dimples showing.

"I see now." Felix voice mumbled making your brother laugh once again.

You turned around, face front looking at Alex and Felix in the eyes.

"You two, shut it." You mouthed, trying to not look suspicious.

"We're all chatting yet we didn't even properly introduced each other." Changbin said, making your heart ache at his adorable English accent.

"Ah, I'm Y/N Lee and this is my brother Lee Yoonchan Alexander." You proceeded in handing out your hand to him.

Handshake after handshake, your hand almost visibly trembled making you reach for your thigh to grip on with your nails so that no one would notice your hand shaking. Specially him.

"I'm Bahng Christopher Chahn but you can call me Chris if you want." His sweet and so gentle voice spoke. His eyes fixed on yours as he extended his hand for a handshake.

"You're not dropping it, uh?" Felix giggled looking over at you making you blush as you delicately and definitely unwillingly retracted your hand from that handshake.

"It's not so unnoticeable, come on." You joked pointing at your tattoo.

It was the Stray Kids' compass with small SKZOO scattered as stars.

"Oh, a STAY?" Minho clapped his hands, making you smile.

"Fuck yeah." You flexed your phone case making him chuckle.

'How cute' you thought. You always loved his laugh.

"You two give off way different vibes." Seungmin said, looking at you and then at your brother.

"Ah.. that's 'cause I was adopted." You simply explained making them gasp.

"How come you two look alike?" Jeongin questioned shocked.

"Do we?" You questioned puzzled as you looked at Alex.

"Ah, I have no idea baby sis. We've been together for years that I even forgot you were adopted." He chuckled patting your hand.

After explaining your background, making them curious and nod at every word you said, they almost jumped on you as they thought it was so hard for you.

"Y'all, I am happy I got adopted. I closed my relationship with my blood." You halted your hands as if to make them relax.

"Well, family is where your heart belongs." Chris mumbled understanding.

"And home is where your heart belongs." You answered, eyes looking at him for more than a minute before looking at the others.

For some reason, you just couldn't hide it but you did wonder if he caught up on it.

Finishing your meal, you stood up and decided to grab dessert. Taking your tray, you excused yourself as you passed among Christopher, Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin's legs. Clueless of anything, you just went to grab whatever you craved.

In the meantime, Chris eyes lingered on you more than you could ever imagine.

"You might want to let it pass. She doesn't even notice the way she moves nor how she is." Alexander spoke as he shook his head, as he looked at Chan for a moment.

"What do you mean?" Changbin spoke after clearing his throat.

"She was never this, how to say, hot." Taking a pause for a moment to formulate his sentence. "She used to look cute back when she was 20 years old." He explained about the time you used to look before establishing in Seoul. "Then she started going to the gym, exercising like an obsessed, then the piercings and tattoos. Not that I mind but as I didn't grow up with her, I could definitely see her change." He continued. "To not mention how she moves and walks, she is truly clueless." As he spoke he looked at you on your way back to the table. "I'm pretty sure she thinks she's not attractive so that's why she doesn't notice the way she moves around so attractively." He explained and went silent as you arrived at the table.

Setting the tray on the table, you put it in the middle, as if sharing it with Chris. Your breath hitting his neck, your breats softly brushing against his back.

"Excuse me once again." You mumbled walking around and stepping between their legs. Your ass facing their faces.

"Gosh." You could hear Chris whisper, making you puzzled as you sat back on your seat.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Back in your dorm room, after passing the night with the guys, you found yourself sitting on your bed and Felix there, looking at you as if begging you to spill the tea.

"Fine!" You mumbled fidgeting with your fingers. "I might have had a thing for him but today, that I finally met him, I just realised I do have solid feelings for him." You whispered, hoping he wouldn't hear from the next door.

Yes, his dorm room was right next to yours.

"Want me to set you up?" He questioned making you instantly blush.

"Oh, I can't do that." You shook your head, feeling guilty.

"I'd love to but I can't.." You mumbled.

You always thought that even if there was the slightest chance of meeting him and have a personal acquaintance with him, you would never be able to be a burden to him, to his work, to... STAY. As one, you saw many sides of the fandom. Some would be thrilled of seeing Stray Kids dating but there are some that scare you, even though you didn't care about the hate of others.

"Just know that whenever, I can always bring your name up with him." He whispered, his voice casually sounding deeper at night. "Casually asking if his eyes ever lingered on you." He teased ruffling your hair.

Shaking your head you softly hit him with your Bbokari pillow.

The night passed with you playing some videogames together and chit chatting.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A couple of months passed and you were thrilled of the upcoming holidays. Today it would have been your last pottery and painting lesson for the semester and you just couldn't wait. The reason.. your best friend was going to be your muse. You always hinted something that happened with him in your paintings but for today's portray you had free volition on whatever you wanted to draw. No guidelines nor censorship. Your creativity only.

"Ready for pottery, babygirl?" Chris poked your cheek as you walked around with your supplies for the art lesson afterwards.

Babygirl was one of the pet names he loved to call you with. As you two got to know each other, you found out that you were more similar than what you already known. From your facial habits to your hand movements. Even when you had fun doing choreographies and singing with the members, you would catch yourself moving or making the same expressions as him. You loved it.

"Cutie, you there?" He flicked your nose making you bite his finger.

"Yes, Chris. I'm ready." You pouted as you sipped on your boba.

"You okay?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you softly.

"Yeah, just thinking." You mumbled looking on your phone realising the day.

"Shit." You gasped almost choking on your drink.

"What? What happened?" Chris questioned looking at you puzzled.

"I have a date with Justin." You mumbled wanting to slam your head against the wall.

"Ah, I see. That guy." He mumbled trying not to sound weird to your ears. Not that you noticed anyways, he always sounded like that whenever you mentioned guys in general.

As you kept on walking to find the classroom, you couldn't stop thinking about how you didn't even want to go on that date. Justin seemed like a cute and funny guy but he definitely didn't set your heart ablaze. The only one for you was still Chris but you just didn't know what to do with him. You just secretly put on a line to not cross by yourself. If he ever did, you would have gladly erased it.

During pottery, your eyes laid on his arms. He would always use short sleeved arms and would always position himself in front of you so that you could chat. He always thought you looked there just to know what he makes or how to use your own hands on your own crafting. It made it so easy for you to stare at his hands, at him.

His hands and wrists freed from his jewelry, making his veins pop out even more. Eyes fixed on his dirtied, calloused and long fingers, his wide thumb making you lick on your own lips as your imagination went far ahead in time.

"Your mug is slightly crushed, darling." Chris teased making you blink twice before noticing.

"Fuck." You cursed as you laughed.

"Here.." Standing up, he sat on the spot unused of the chair you were sitting on. "Let me help you, yeah?" He mumbled moving his arms between your sides, his face resting on your shoulder as he moved his hands with yours. "This is your eight mug and you still can't get it good at the first try, uh?" He teased, his hot breath hitting on your skin.

'Ask yourself two questions.' You thought as you looked at his thumbs caressing the back of your hands. 'You're too distracting.'

His fingers moving along with yours as you crafted the mug you'll cherish forever. His chest moving at every inhale and exhale he took, brushing against your back. Biting your lower lip, your eyebrows twitched as you fought your best to not close your thighs. Gulping down you felt the way his lap moved on the sides of your legs.

"Good girl, just like that." He whispered retracting his hands from yours.

Your mind coming to your senses as he stood up, making you feel empty. You looked at the mug and smiled.

"Where are you going?" You questioned almost begging him to sit there and hold you once again.

It wouldn't have been a first anyways. You would always watch movies together, cuddling, fall asleep together, sometimes staying up all night at your shared balcony to talk and hug. You never kissed once, even when you were drunk with him, you would always feel sober in some aspects. You would remind your drunk self to never kiss him, never strip in front of him, never bring out naughty jokes that you would normally do when you're sober. Naughtiness and flirting was normal between you but you always knew when to stop.

Not wanting to make it hard for him.

"But it's complete." He whined looking at his own bowl that was left uncompleted.

"Carve it for me, please?" You pouted cutely as you looked up at him, blinking a few times.

"Ugh.." He groaned shaking his head, sitting back behind you.

As he took a carving knife, he looked at you, waiting for your orders.

'Fuck, I can't just resist that face of your's.' Chris thought, as he kept it cool.

After all he was used to hide his emotions, hide his expressions so that others wouldn't know what went through his head.

"Draw me Wolf Chan, please." You poked his inner thigh making him jolt.

"Oh-ho, you want me to carve you myself?" He teased, his lips brushing on your ear.

"You surely serve the best for later." He whispered, nose stroking against your cheek.

"Remember that you share the same classes with people that could also be your fans." You whispered poking his thigh once again.

'The more you do that, the more I can't resist it.' He thought, eyes lingering on yours before he started carving what you asked him to.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Finally it was time for your date with Justin. You got ready, a dark magnetic blue tanktop, and tech pants, on your feet your Star Hike Converse that you let Hyunjin turn it into a personal customised official Stray Kids merch. Taking your varsity jacket and your handbag, you got out.

Once at the cafeteria, you had dinner with Justin, the first time you've ever ate dinner without your brother or Chris.

The conversation was barely moving, you didn't really match but you just kept your other nice personality. It felt rather suffocating not being able to be yourself, your unfiltered self that you'd want your other half to see, to learn, to enjoy... To love.

After some time, as you walked at the campus' park, you looked around and sighed softly.

"What a nice weather, the breeze is amazing." You said, your eyes staring at the leaves moving.

"Not really my kind of weather." Justin chuckled, making you close your eyes.

'Don't mind it...' You thought. 'Suck it up, it's just the first date.'

As you conversated with Justin, not really enjoying how he never said he enjoyed anything you liked. Chris was hiding behind a tree, listening to whatever that guy was saying.

"Summer is my favourite season. I always go to the beach and have fun." Justin spoke making Chris' mouth twitch in anger.

'She loves fall and spring. Not summer, you dumbass.' He silently cursed at the guy.

"Ah, I see." You smiled nodding as you bent down to grab a fallen leaf.

The moment the guy's eyes laid on your ass, Chris clenched his jaw. Fist closed in a punch ready to be thrown.

'Eyes off.' He thought as his head twitched in anger.

The guy looked at you as you rummaged inside your handbag, you felt something weird so you turned around and looked at it from inside, slightly under the streetlights.

"Alex..." You cursed him as you found what he previously slid inside your bag when he was in your room.

A condom.

'As if I'm gonna do anything with this dude...' You thought.

"Would you like to.. spend the night together?" Justin's voice brought your mind back to your conversation.

Christopher from behind the tree on the verge of throwing his fists at him. Eyes burning him from afar.

"Know each other better..." The blond guy mumbled. "Physically..." He whispered in your ear making you look up to him.

The moment you were about to push the guy aside, loud steps came from behind you.

"She's not interested." A voice you well recognised spoke, making you turn around.

"And you are?" Justin questioned smirking, as if insinuating that a random dude came just to get you.

"Her fucking best friend." Not a second later his fist came in contact with Justin's face.

"Minho, what are you doing?!" You exclaimed pushing him from his chest.

Christopher fists relaxing as he saw his bandmate approaching you before he did. Making it easier to not mess it completely up between you and him.

"Now, you either leave or I'll beat you once again." Minho spoke harshly as he looked at that guy with hatred.

"Whatever." The guy scoffed and left.

You turned around and hinted Minho to take a seat on the bench near a tree.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned in disbelief.

"I came to hear that the guy you had a date with today, went on a date last night as well." He spouted. Fists hitting the wooden bench.

"I was about to turn him down anyways." You mumbled.

"Just... date him." He whispered looking at you. "He will surely treat you better and will definitely never pull any kind of bullshit like any other guy would." Bringing you into a hug, he caressed your hair.

"You know I can't..." You whispered, head falling on his shoulder.

"Fuck that. Fuck any other guy." Minho mumbled sighing.

Christopher, still listening from behind the tree was confused, puzzled from your conversation. He never thought you were already interested in someone else. He always thought you didn't think of dating up until now. He always thought that your remarks about some guys were just words. Silently he retreated and went to his dorm room.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Once there, he took off his clothes and wore some sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and went to the balcony, looking at the forest up ahead.

"She had someone in her mind all this time and she didn't tell me?" Chris questioned to himself.

"If Minho even told her to ask that guy... then he must be good for her..." Puzzled he leaned in and lowered his head.

"Hey..." A soft voice came from behind.

Chan turned around and saw you. Not wanting to let you know that he knew all about your date, he smiled at you. You could easily tell that he wasn't feeling good.

"How was the date?" He questioned leaning at the balcony's barricade.

"We weren't a match." You just replied, taking a place right besides him.

"Wanna talk about it?" He questioned, wrapping an arm on your shoulders.

"Just, meh.." You didn't know what to tell. "I just thought that if I went on a date with someone, I'd forget about my feelings for this one guy but I just got reminded how much I fucking love him." You explained, as you looked ahead.

The moon was shining so brightly. The full moon was covering you both, wrapping you under it's light.

Christopher standing right behind you, held his hands on the barricade, clenching his fingers around it. His arms flexing as he pressed his chest against your back. His crotch brushing against your ass making you blush.

"Can I know this guy's name?" He questioned, sounding annoyed by this new information he learnt about.

Resting your head against his chest, you looked up to him. Tired of pretending you just let it out. "You really didn't notice?"

"I'm pretty dense when it comes to that, babygirl." He whispered against your skin.

"You should know that." His eyes looking at you.

A look so tender and sweet that it made you melt on his body.

'How could I even think of dating someone else?' You thought as your eyes lingered on his.

"You're either that naive or... you just like teasing me..." You whispered, your eyes swifting their gaze on his plush lips.

"Baby, enlighten me." He whispered taking a step forward, pressing his body onto yours.

"Chris..." You whispered closing your eyes. "You should have known by now."

"Is it one of us?" He questioned softly.

Nodding silently, you could feel him against your ass.

"You're so mean..." You whispered, opening your eyes staring into his eyes.

"Am I?" His voice deeper as he lowered his tone.

"You're so damn mean..." Your voice turning even softer.

"I'll fight him, whoever it is." He mumbled turning you around.

After trying to give him hints as you kept on talking, before going to sleep, you decided to drop a bomb on him.

Taking off your laced panties you threw them his way before going inside and closing the door of the balcony.

"He should catch up to that, right?" You questioned, face all heated and red as you looked at Felix in disbelief.

"If he doesn't get it, then he's lost it." He mumbled handling you some water.

"Ah, you okay if I go somewhere for a moment?" Felix questioned putting his phone inside his pockets.

"Don't worry about me." You mumbled going to the bathroom.

Cleaning yourself, you sprayed some of your natural rose essential scent all around your body and then wrapped your silky robe around your curves. Coming outside of the bathroom, you noticed Chan standing up from your bed pulling you into his embrace. Lips pressed onto yours making your tensed body melt into his arms.

"You should have given me those panties months ago, babygirl." He whispered kissing you once more.

"You oblivious." You whispered into the kiss.

As you always thought, his lips were definitely sweet, tasty and kissable.

"You should have known my feelings too..." He whispered, brows furrowed as he desperately kissed your lips.

As your lips crushed against each other, your tongues roamed around each other's mouth. Feeling tingly, you clenched your fingers around the cloth of his shirt. In response he grabbed you and sat back on your mattress, seating you onto his lap. Making him groan under you.

You could feel it. He was hard. This was the first time he didn't move away from you which made you unknowingly bite his lower lip, making him grunt inside your mouth.

"Fuck baby..." Holding you by your hips, his prints gripped on your body through the thinnest layer of your robe.

One of your hands reached on your bag, looking for something and pulling it out. You pulled away from his lips and looked at him.

"Do you wanna...?" You questioned showing him the condom in your hands.

His lips parted, hands lingering on you. He looked at you and buckled up under you, making you gulping down a moan. That was enough for you to set aside the condom and get rid off of his shirt.

As your lips connected once more, he opened your robe and let it fall on the floor. A hand of his sliding on your ass, groping it firmly while the other cupped one of your tits, massaging it softly.

"God you're so fucking sexy." He moaned into your mouth.

Sensing that tingling feeling between your legs, you instinctively grinded onto him making him moan once again into your mouth making you bite his lips once again.

Breathless, he left a wet trail of kisses against your skin, from your jaw to your breasts. One pierced nipple caught between his lips while the other was teased with his thumb.

Head thrown back, you moaned silently in his embrace. "Chris..."

Feeling too excited, you pulled back from his embrace and slid between his lap.

"What are yo-mhm.." Looking at you placing your hands on his thighs, kissing his inner thigh through the cloth of his sweatpants.

Slowly moving your hands upwards, you looked at his naked torso, memorising every line on his abdomen, memorising the way his chest flexed everytime you caressed his body.

Freeing him of his clothing, your eyes lingered on his member. It was way bigger than you expected. As you stared at it, Chris looked at you, twitching at the sight of your eyes on him. At the sight of your naked body finally revealed to his eyes.

Licking your lips, you licked the shaft of his dick, hands placed on both of his lap, caressing and softly scratching his skin.

"Shit... baby.." Gulping down, he looked at you.

Your eyes glancing right into his brown irises as you went down on him. Your head bopping down in a slow pace making him clench his fingers around the sheets. Feeling precum on your tongue, you deep-throated him, a hand of his moving on your head, caressing your scalp as guiding you on his long, wide, hard and veiny length.

"Just like that, babygirl..." Breathing heavily, he moved his hips meeting your throat.

Throat fucking you, he kept his eyes on yours. Taking in every aspect of your expressions.

Oh, how he always wanted to be inside your mouth.

While the both of you oblivious about each other's feelings, you happened to always chat during bed time while a hand was busy on your body, making you crave one another every next morning you saw each other.

Moving your head up and down, up and down, he found himself releasing deep inside your mouth. Making you dig your nails in his thighs.

"God.. you're definitely soul snatching.." He whispered in his orgasm making you gulp down and take the wrapping of the condom between your teeth, opening it.

"Soul snatching?" You questioned with a smirk as you put the rubber between your lips.

"Something me and the others say whenever you get corndogs." He mumbled pulling up his head looking right at you.

With a puzzled look he parted lips to speak but you cut him off by deep-throating him to wrap the condom around his hardness.

"Gosh, that was so damn sexy." He whispered looking at your body sitting onto his lap.

Rubbing his cock against your wet cunt, you slowly began sitting onto him. Taking him inch by inch. Lips parted you let out soft moanings escape your lips and you finally adjusted to his length.

"You're definitely bigger than my ex." You mumbled making him twitch inside you.

Hands on your hips, he guided your slow movements, enjoying the feeling of being inside of you. Biting on his lips, he leaned in to kiss your neck.

Your eyes looking deep into his movements, mouth opened in breathy gasps as you moved onto him.

"You lucky you're wearing a condom.." You whispered into his ear. "Or else, you would never be able to take it out.." Licking and nibbling on his earlobe, you kept on riding his hardness slowly.

He couldn't help but chuckle at your comment, a mix of surprise and amusement filling his eyes as he looked into yours.

"Well, you know what they say about condoms.. They prevent babies, but not the fun." His hands reached around your hips and started moving them in rhythm with your thrusts, his breath hitting your ear as he spoke.

Steadying your hands on his shoulders, you chuckled at his comment. With a smirk on your lips you kissed his neck before blowing your warm breath against his ear.

"You're the only guy I've ever swallowed." Wanting to tease him, you confessed a little secret of yours.

He couldn't help but let out a laugh, his free hand reaching up to toy with your breasts as you distracted him with your tease. "Yeah.. It's not every day a girl swallows a k-pop idol."

Your confession surprised him slightly, so he replied playfully. "But honestly. I'm more than proud that you chose to do that." His hands slightly pinching your pierced nipples, pushing you deeper onto him as he spoke.

Chuckling you started moving in wave motions as if to toy with his dick inside. Lips parted you plated a kiss under his eyes. "I mean, I've never swallowed even my ex." Touching his biceps, you groped them as you kept on riding him.

With that being said, he gripped on your ass cheeks and started slamming himself harder inside of you making you gasp and bite on his shoulder.

"Fu-uhck!" As you kept your nails deep into his skin, he threw his head back as his cock slammed in and out, in and out. Non-stop.

Balls deep inside you, he moaned as you both found your movements in synch. Without announcing it, he kissed your lips and whispered. "Look at me, babygirl."

Eyes on his, lips parted in moans you both found your release as you reached you first ever orgasm.

Because yeah, your ex had a nice dick but he never knew how to actually satisfy you.

Your lips crushed as you ate each other's moans. After riding through your high, he pulled out and embraced you moving your bodies in the middle of the mattress right after he threw away the used condom.

Cuddling and kissing, you both relaxed on each other embrace.

"I love you, my lady." Chris whispered into your ear.

"I love you more, Chris." You whispered kissing his lips.

Holding each other in a warm and soft hug, you both dozed off with a smile on your faces and marks all over your bodies.

#straykids #stray #kids #bang chan oneshot #stay #bystay #bang chan #yang jeongin #lee know #lee felix #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #han jisung #skz #skz bangchan

[alast4r]

I'm being srs, I haven't slept properly for days now it's fucking 2AM and I still can't yawn at least, I try to write then fall asleep after boredom so I need ideas, atp I'll do any kind of requests mainly Alastor :3 (Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, special fandoms) but following these rules:

I. Concept of requests

• If the content is rather disturbing and uncomfortable to others (Aside from the person who requests for it) I would personally just send it personally if it's slightly has decency.

I won't accept these dynamics:

-Romanticizing abuse (“Punishment” like stories will be accepted as long as no characters will be harmed brutally which could be considered as assault or go against RA 9262/ RA 7610)

-Minor x adult

-Accidental/Hidden Pregnancy

II. Characters

• As a writer, I truly care about a character's detail and information on truly try my best to not have then OOC too much but as said. I will not do romantic relationships of minors and adults especially if indulging in sexual intercourse but if it's platonic it is easily welcomed here.

III. Relationships

• For the stories I require to know the relationship of certain characters, for example reader x etc, or reader having a friendship relationship with a certain character. But warning I won't write about these ships:

-Alastor x any existing character in the show

-Charlie x anyone aside from Vaggie

-Valentino x Angel Dust

-Moxxie/Millie x Blitzo

Velvette x Vox/Valentino

Carmine x Velvette

Angel x Lucifer

Emily x Any existing character in the shows

etc.

III. Themes/Genre

• okay, I do any themes at this point, Angst, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Gore/Violence, Humourous, Wholesome, Heartbreaking, Drama, Soap Operas, you name it!

I just require the requests to be humane and decent, I only would prefer if you'd state for a one shot or series, thank you and goodnight!

#request #human alastor smut #human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #writing requests #requests open #reqs open #requests are open #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #request rules #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vagatha #hazbin charlie #hazbin chaggie #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin characters #Helluva Boss #smut #fluff