#I’m barely glancing as I type rip

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: innocence/corruption

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral and handjob, daddy kink, lots of pet names including kitten/good girl/princess/baby, corruption kink from rafe but hes still very sweet, one instance of pussy slapping lol, mild degradation, use of slut

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana

“i bet you’re so wet right now.” rafe whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i’m not.” you pout, not even fully understanding what he’s saying, mind still fuzzy from the intense kiss he just gave you.

“liar.” rafe smirks, hands still placed on your waist from when he pulled you onto his lap and flush against his body.

“i’m not a liar!” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as rafe just lets out a chuckle.

“you are.” rafe says, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against your lips, and even though it only lasts seconds, your head begins to feel dizzy again and you lean forward, seeking out more.

“little slut.” rafe whispers as your forehead presses against his shoulder, unable to keep your eyes on his as your chest presses into his. “i can feel your nipples getting hard.” you sit up suddenly, feeling your face get hot as your cheeks blush. you over your breasts with your hands. “they are not.” “move your hands then.” rafe commands, but you press them harder against your chest, willing your nipples to settle down, but when rafe reaches up and rips your hands away, you know he can easily see the hard buds poking out from under the fabric of your shirt.

“i knew it. liar.” rafe cups your breasts, keeping his hands to the outside of them, manipulating them beneath your shirt as the toys with how they sit on your chest.

you should tell him to stop, but you can’t get the words out. rafes thumb suddenly swipes over your nipple and you jump up off his lap.

“now you’re definitely wet.” rafe says, eyes on your pussy that is now level with his face.

“no, i’m not!” you say again, even as you feel something unfamiliar stirring in your stomach. “you’re being a bad boyfriend right now!”

“the only thing that would make me a bad boyfriend, sweetheart, is if i didn’t take care of my girls pussy when it got wet for me.”

“it’s not wet!” you whine, cutting rafe off before he can say something, “and don’t call me a liar again!” rafe closes his mouth in a hum, eyes coming to meet your face. “then show me.” “what?” you question, glancing down your body.

“if you’re not wet, show me your pussy. let me see.” rafe is staring up at you expectantly, and the flame burning inside of you speaks before the logical part of your brain can. 

you humph and pull your shorts down your legs, leaving you bare. rafes eyes widen, expecting a second layer underneath.

“open up, kitten.” rafe taps your thigh, and you spread your tightly clenched thighs just slightly, revealing a mess of sticky wetness. rafe smiles up at you, and you want to cry out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly for lying to your boyfriend about not being sopping wet.

“there. you’ve seen. i’m a liar, now let me put my shorts back o- ahhh!” you let out a scream as rafes hands land on your hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sat at as his lips attack to your clit, forcing his head between your legs as they part so you don’t lose your balance. 

“rafe!” you scream, reaching over him and holding onto the back of the couch as he tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking up the wetness you claimed wasn’t there.

you let out a series of moans as he focuses directly on your clit, bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before. you know in that moment that there’s no going back, no going back to the innocence you once possessed as you reach a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face further into your cunt.

“admit it.” rafe mumbles against your pussy, only pulling away slightly to speak, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice. “admit that me kissing you made you this wet.” “f-fine.” you cry out as his lips wrap around your clit, giving it a suck that makes you see stars. “fine! yes! you got me all wet.”

“you lied.” rafe pulls away fully, and you try to push his head back between your legs, but he won’t let you. “you lied to your boyfriend. i thought you said we would always tell each other the truth.”

you didn’t trust rafe when he first asked you out. you were new to the outer banks and came from a very sheltered life, so when you finally agreed to be his girlfriend, you made sure some rules were put into place. you didn’t even think to include anything about sex, you’ve never experienced it before.

“i’m sorry.” you pout, the shame about the lie now mixing in with how dirty you feel.

“i’ll forgive you, baby.” rafe tugs you down onto his lap, depositing you on his knee so you’re now face to face. “i’ll forgive you if you’re very good for me tonight and do everything i say.” “okay.” you whisper, not wanting rafe to be mad at you. you blink back the tears that have welled up in your eyes, you cunt clenching around nothing as you wish for his mouth back on you again, back delivering the world-changing pleasure.

“good kitten.” rafe says, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a soft kiss, but you don’t want soft now that he’s shown you so much more. you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth slightly for rafes tongue, granting him permission as your own tongue tangles with his.

you lean forward to get a better angle, but also end up pressing your cunt into his thigh. you moan into his mouth, rocking forward against his jeans, no doubt leaving a large wet spot as you continue to move.

you don’t even realize that rafe has stopped kissing you, sitting back to watch you get yourself off on his leg. you place your hands on his chest, pushing your clit directly into the muscle.

rafe gives his leg a sudden bounce, making your legs widen. you cry out, eyes closing as you grind down.

rafes hands land on your hips, and you hope he’s going to help, but instead he forces you to stop, shifting you so you’re not lined up anymore. “no, rafe, stop-” you whine, opening your eyes to see his stern expression greeting yours.

“dirty sluts get themselves off like this. i thought you were my good kitten, not a dirty slut.” rafe says, making you almost cower at the harshness in his tone.

“i am good.” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip, and rafe can’t hold back the urge to lean forward and bite it, tugging you back into a ravishing kiss, only pulling away when you’re both out of breath.

“good girls also don’t lose their virginity on a couch. let me take you up to bed, princess.” you just nod, standing up off rafes lap, who only lets you stand for a moment until he’s up, sweeping you into his arms.

“wh-what do good girls do when losing their virginity?” you whisper as he climbs the stairs, feeling your face redden again.

“good girls do as their boyfriends say. and you’re gonna do so good honey, no reason to be nervous.” rafe kisses your cheek as he sets you down on his lush bed, closing the door behind him, hoping that will make you feel a bit more comfortable despite being completely alone in the house.

rafe stands next to the bed as he tips your head up, giving you a sweet kiss that has your nerves fluttering away. he smiles down at you, a wickedness shining through, not able to be fully concealed. 

“can you…” you mumble, and then stop, remembering that you’re supposed to listen to your boyfriend, not tell him to do things.

“it’s okay, baby, ask.” rafe asks, giving you the permission you needed to speak.

“can you take your shirt off?” you ask, surprised at your ability to keep eye contact while asking, remembering the time you went out on his boat and rafe took his shirt off, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him.

rafe doesn’t respond with words, instead pulling the tshirt off over his head and tossing it away. he takes your hand in his, placing it on his bare chest, giving you permission to touch.

you glide your hand over his smooth skin, admiring the way his muscles stand out. you move lower, eyes following your fingertips as you feel his abs, moving lower and lower until you get to the hem of his sweatpants. 

you let out a gasp when your eyes finally meet what’s right in front of your face. rafe is straining so hard through his sweatpants that you know it must be painful, the way he’s pushing against the fabric.

“what do… good girls do with this?” you ask, hoping rafe knows what you’re referring to.

“they touch it.” rafe says, taking your hand again and lowering it over his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardness, making him let out a grunt.

“that feels good?” you ask as you begin to rub your hand over it. 

“baby, it feels amazing.” rafe steps back, and you frown, going to ask him if he’s lying about it feeling good if he’s making you stop, but then he grabs his sweatpants and lowers them down, taking his underwear with him.

your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, a primal urge taking over as you reach back out, wrapping your fingers around his thick length. you’ve never seen a cock up close, and definitely not one as beautiful as the one your boyfriend possesses.

“fuck, your hands on me are heaven.” rafe moans, and you feel a flutter in your heart at the praise, beginning to stroke your hand up and down over his shaft, eyes occasionally traveling up to his face to make sure he’s still enjoying your movements.

you try different things, try faster, try slower, you even take your palm and rub it against the end of his cock, making rafe suddenly thrust forward with a moan. you can tell he likes it, but his reaction scares you slightly, so you keep to stroking his length.

“you want to know what else good kittens do?” rafe asks. he smiles when you quickly nod.

“they lick it.” he says, taking a step closer so he’s between your legs, not failing to notice the way your wetness has grown to leave a mark on his bed, but you’re so focused on him that you’ve forgotten the ache in your pussy.

“oh.” you say, leaning forward and taking an experimental lick of the head of his cock. you look up at rafe, swallowing the slightly salty taste that’s left on your tongue. 

“come on.” rafe encourages you, and you lean forward, licking again, relishing in the taste as you continue, covering the head of his cock with spit as you get into the feeling.

once you’re used to it, you begin to move your hand again, stroking it from base right up to his head where you continue exploring with your tongue.

“try sucking.” rafe says, and you only hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth, placing the head of his cock against your tongue. you close your lips over it, surprised how big it feels inside of your mouth.

you give a gentle suck before looking up, not wanting to hurt rafe. “harder.” he commands, and you close your eyes, focusing again as you give him a harsher suck. the moan rafe lets out spurs you to continue, caressing his cock with your tongue inside of your mouth as you continue to suck.

your hand, that was holding him steady at the base, begins to move again, and you develop a rhythm of sucking and stroking him when suddenly rafe pulls away, chest heaving as you swallow the remnants of his taste on your tongue.

“did i mess up?” you ask, making rafe let out a breathy laugh.

“no, baby, not at all. i just almost came.” he explains, reaching to run a hand through your hair.

“oh!” you say, eyes widening. you almost made him orgasm. you knew that was the end goal, but you never realized how good you were doing. you feel a bit of pride grow in your chest at that.

“you know, we can keep practicing until you eventually can suck all of me.” you glance down to his cock, eyes widening, wondering how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside of your mouth. 

“don’t worry now, darling.” rafe ducks and gives your forehead a kiss. “we will work up to it. for now, why don’t you take your shirt off then lay on the bed?” you had forgotten completely about your own pleasure, but at the reminder you realize how hard your nipples have grown, and how the need to have him back between your thighs has only gotten bigger as you sucked him off. 

you shuck your shirt off, no longer feeling as insecure now that rafe is naked. you scooch further up on the bed until you’re able to lay down on the pillows, watching as rafe paces at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he admires you, admires you like a predator does their prey before taking them down.

“spread your legs.” rafe commands, and you follow his instructions instantly, bearing your pussy to him.

rafe gets onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs. he runs his hands over your legs, trying to control himself, but the need to hear your moans again is too great.

he presses his thumb to your clit, easily rubbing over it due to your slickness. your back arches up off the bed, letting out a cry.

“good kitten, shh.” rafe says, bring his thumb up and sticks it in his mouth, tasting your wetness before quickly reconnecting. “i’m gonna touch you somewhere new.”

you barely register his words, too focused on the way your clit is pulsing with pleasure. your eyes that you hadn’t even realized had slid closed shoot open when the tip of rafes finger presses against your hole.

“rafe!” you squeal. you’ve never had anyone touch you there before.

“remember what i said about good kittens?” he reminds you. you take a deep breath, letting your body relax. you trust your boyfriend, and you need to make up for lying to him earlier. 

“good girl.” rafe presses his finger harder, until it breaks the seal of your hole. he could moan just from the first knuckle being inserted, knowing you’re going to squeeze his cock so tight.

his finger keeps pushing in, and you feel like it’s impossibly long. it’s uncomfortable for a moment, but his thumb continues to move over your clit, and the discomfort changes to pure elation as you feel a high rising over your body.

“stop, rafe, i think i’m gonna pee!” you warn, but his thumb continues to move, and he turns his hand so his finger quirks up, pressing against the spot inside of you that has you tumbling over the edge, entire body arching up as you moan, letting out a slew of words that sound like rafes name mixed with curses, curses that you never let pass your lips but you can’t help it now.

your entire body shakes as you feel wave after wave of pleasure, all from rafes adept hands. he slows his thumb on your clit and eventually stops when it pulses angrily underneath him, but he keeps the singular digit inside of you.

“did i pee?” you ask, afraid to even look down, unsure what just happened.

“no, baby, you just came. you had an orgasm.” rafe explains, placing his freehand on your outer thigh and rubbing it comfortingly.

“that felt…” you don’t know how it’s possible for you to blush anymore, but you do, “that felt really good.”

rafe smiles down at you, “i know honey, and i’m gonna help you feel another one since you’re such a good kitten. and you’re gonna help me cum too.”

“i’m gonna help you feel like that?” you ask, wanting to experience the intense feeling with your boyfriend.

“you are.” he nods. “this is why you’re such a good girl, we are gonna get to do this all the time now. i’ll show you how to orgasm with my cock, and with my tongue.” “i can cum on your tongue?” your eyes widen, remembering the way his soft but skillful tongue felt against you.

“you can.” rafe says, “but first, i need to open your pussy up with my fingers so i can fit my cock inside of you.” “i don’t know if it’s gonna ffffff-” you’re cut off as rafe begins to move his finger again. 

“i’ll fit baby, don’t worry.” rafe says, feeling how good you’ve already opened up for him. your body lays slack against the mattress, and he’s glad that you got to your orgasm so quickly so he can focus on opening you up while you’re relaxed.

he moves until his singular digit pushes easily into you. he looks up to find your eyes closed, taking deep breaths as you attempt to keep your body relaxed, but you do tense up momentarily when a second finger joins in pressing against your entrance.

before you can even freak out, they are both plunging inside of you, moving easier due to your wetness.

“baby girl, you’re making me so proud.” rafe says, and he swears you actually start to glow under his praise. his innocent little girlfriend, somehow managing to remain sweet even as he finger fucks you.

“can you… touch my clit again?” you ask, swallowing thickly.

“no, princess. next time you cum i want it to be on my cock. i’ll touch your clit then.” rafe says, noticing the face you make. “don’t pout or you won’t cum at all.”

you wipe the frown off your face, really wanting to feel what it’s like to orgasm with rafes cock inside you, even if it looks too large.

“i’m gonna scissor my fingers now, kitten.” rafe warns, and you let out a moan as he starts to open up his fingers, pressing them against your walls to make space for himself.

“there you go.” rafe mumbles, eyes on your cunt as you loosen. he can barely stand to wait any longer as he gently pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth to get another taste of you.

“t-time for your cock?” you ask, whispering the last word so quietly that rafe can barely hear you.

“yes, time for my cock. be a good girl and stay relaxed.” rafe considers what position will be best for you before grabbing a pillow that you’re not resting your head against, and moving it to underneath your hips. he moves closer on the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy.

as soon as he brushes your entrance, you tense up.

“hey.” rafe warns, pulling his hips back as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy, right over your clit that has you crying out. “i said relax.” “sorry.” you whimper, taking a deep breath as rafe lines himself up again. he pushes his hips forward, moaning as the head of his cock is concealed by your tight heat, walls constricting him but he’s able to keep moving as you stay relaxed.

“good girl.” rafe praises you as he sinks in, pausing to move at a snail pace when you squirm or make a noise of discomfort.

eventually, his hips are settled right between your thighs, pressed as deeply as they can go. as much as rafe wants to go feral, he doesn’t want to cause you too much pain, so he lets you have a moment to adjust.

“so big inside me daddy.” you whimper, unsure of where the name came from.

“daddy, huh?” the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “maybe you’re not a good girl after are, maybe you are a dirty slut.” “i’m no-oooo!” you scream as rafe beings to move, his hips pulling away and then slamming back in. your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his cock moving against your walls, every inch feeling so sensitive.

“you’re not a dirty slut? because this is exactly how dirty sluts behave when they have their daddies cock inside of them.” rafe moves faster when he feels that you’re only getting wetter.

“i wanna be your good kitten.” you whine, hands grasping at the sheets.

“hmm.” rafe slows down so he can feel every inch of you, using his cock to memorize the way you feel around him. “maybe you’re my good girl and my dirty slut. can you be both for me baby?” “i can, i can.” you whine, feeling tears slide down your face. rafe keeps one hand stabilizing your hip and uses the other to swipe his thumb across your cheeks to collect your tears.

“be my slut and my princess. cum on my cock for me.” rafe wants to last longer, he really does, but now that he knows how dirty you can be when he pushes you, especially the way you reacted to him slapping your pussy, he knows this is by far the last time you let him play with your body.

he speeds up, his cock swelling inside of you as he rubs you clit again, as promised. you moan consistently, unable to control your voice as you get closer and closer to the edge, now able to identify the feeling as it hits you hard.

rafes cock hits your insides just right, and you explode at the same time as him, your cunt squeezing repeatedly in your orgasm, milking all of the cum out of him as he shouts your name, releasing himself as deeply as he can.

you are both breathing heavily when rafe falls forward, pressing his body against yours. you whine at the change of position in his cock as he keeps it lodged deep inside of you.

“was i good?” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw as rafe picks his head up.

“you were so good, princess. such a dirty little whore for me.” rafe kisses you in earnest, delighting in the way your lips slide over each others, even more open to the make out now than you were before you had sex. “gonna be your good little slut from now on.” you whisper against his lips, surprised to feel rafes cock twitch inside of you as he rehardens slightly.

rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips, “i know you will, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

[babygorewhore]

I’ll follow you until you love me.

The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.

Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.

The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.

He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.

Taglist for this!

@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake

If I forgot about have mercy I am tired

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock I need you to share something about Gojo. Jjk is getting worse with no hope in the future. Plis just a tiny part is god. 🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Detour.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Mild not SFW implications, Gojo and Geto are Not normal about you, exhibiting possessive behavior. Word count: 1.2k.

-Index-

"—Excuse me, miss!" 

The exclamation barely registers amidst the crowded street's ambiance. Everyone has a destination they're eager to reach, and you're no different. Unlike those native to the area, however, you're more likely to get lost; hence your current conundrum. 

You examine the mess of squiggly lines, blocks, and patterns intended to function as a map. 

Kagurazaka, Kagurazaka... c'mon, I know this one... it starts with the kanji for god or something, right? 

While you scrutinize the map, the same voice from earlier calls out again, this time beside you. You glance around, not wanting to respond if he’s trying to flag down someone else. In doing so, it becomes increasingly obvious that you’re who he’s been trying to grab the attention of. 

From the looks of it, he’s a man in his late thirties, wearing a suit that could use a good ironing. You can’t recall meeting him before. Then again, you’re not privy to everything that happens back on campus. Meetings with influential figures frequently occur without your knowledge. You only ever find out about them later when Satoru loudly voices his critical view on everyone who attended. You are wearing your uniform, it’s recognizable to those in Jujutsu circles. 

You’d rather not stir up a scandal by unintentionally snubbing a Zenin or someone equally important. With this in mind, you politely inquire, “Can I help you?” 

“That uniform… you’re a high schooler, right?” 

You nod, figuring that this confirms your hypothesis. 

“What year?” 

This question makes less sense. Maybe he wants to know your proximity to Suguru, or, far likelier, Satoru. These types always have their own designs for the pride of the Gojo clan. 

“I’m a second-year.” 

“I see, I see,” he begins rummaging through his blazer’s inner pocket. He procures a business card and holds it out. “How about a job? From the looks of it, you’d make a good fit.” 

You blink. 

Are you… allowed to do freelance work? You’ve heard of specific sorcerers being requested for jobs, but that’s always been through the school. Besides, as a Grade Three, you don’t think you can go on unsupervised jobs. Not wanting to seem rude, you reach out to accept the card— 

—Only for it to be intercepted. 

“Sorry, she’s completely booked,” a voice that sounds the furthest thing from apologetic chimes in. 

Gojo Satoru stands to your right, adorned with his circular sunglasses and trademark grin. He rips the card in half without so much as a second thought. You stare at him, incredulous. Questions swarm around your head. When did he get here? How didn’t you notice him until now? Why does his cursed energy have such an unnerving quality to it? 

He bends down and hangs his arm around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else. Ignoring Suguru and I’s calls, chatting up strange men in Kabukichō… I swear, we can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” 

“Wh— I’m not chatting anyone up!” You whisper yell. His infinity nullifies enough for you to jab a finger at his chest. “Why can’t you give better directions?! ‘West of the Edo Castle’ doesn’t tell me anything, it just sounds like a TV drama!”

Satoru shrugs. “Should’ve just asked an auxiliary manager to drop you off.” 

“You might treat them like a personal taxi service, but I’d rather not. Taking the train’s fine.” 

The man finally overcomes the shock inflicted by Satoru’s audacity, taking a step forward. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” 

“Bleh, no!” 

“Future husband.” 

Yours and Satoru’s responses come out simultaneously. 

“In that case—” 

“Excuse me,” A new presence interrupts the increasingly irritated man. Suguru wears a friendly smile which somehow comes across as more menacing than Satoru’s wolfish grin. He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are aware that it’s a minor you’re trying to recruit, correct?” 

The man flushes at the accusation. “Listen, I dunno what you’re trying to accuse me of—” 

“I’d hate to see you get in trouble for a mistake like that,” Suguru cuts him off again, raising his voice ever so slightly. This attracts the attention of some bystanders. “Who knows what consequences that’d result in, especially for a married man like yourself…” 

Huh. You hadn’t even noticed the gold band on his ring finger. Suguru’s nothing if not perceptive. 

Nearby commuters whisper amongst themselves while eyeing the scene. The man’s gaze flits between a self-satisfied Satoru and an overly polite Suguru, eventually settling on an escape route. Wordlessly, he departs, although you swear you overhear him muttering ‘crazy kids’ and ‘doomed girl,’ along the way. 

“Yo, Suguru. Took you long enough.” 

“Unfortunately, not all of us can teleport.” 

“Your curse did a better job at tailin’ me than you.” 

Ignoring the jab, Suguru dusts his hands off while honing in on you. “You alright? You weren’t answering our calls.” 

“And you’re late,” Satoru whines. He helps himself to searching through your purse, taking your pink Razr hostage. “Huh. Battery’s dead.” 

Suguru appears content. “What’d I tell you?” 

“If she’s blocked me before, the same could happen to you.” 

“I wouldn’t block Suguru.” 

“She wouldn't block me.” 

This time, it’s you and Suguru who speak concurrently. Satoru pouts, putting his hands up like he’s under attack (which he probably believes himself to be). You snatch your phone back without issue, unlike when he last stole it. He unblocked himself and dangled it above your head until you promised you wouldn’t do that again.

“And here I was, about to treat you both to pastries,” Satoru sighs, melodramatic as ever. 

“While we were waiting for you, I noticed creampuffs and macaroons on the menu; which would you recommend?” Suguru inquires, not bothering to acknowledge Satoru’s complaints. 

“That depends on what you want from the experience,” you mimic his decision. “Creampuffs tend to be one flavor, whereas macaroons come in multiple, so the variety’s nice. When I get a variety pack, I always end up disliking one of the flavors and wishing I’d just gotten my favorites instead.” 

Satoru sighs as loud as he can. “Right, right, I’m just a walking wallet. Let’s get going before someone else solicits [First].” 

“Eh?” You turn your head to face Satoru. “‘Solicits?’ As in…?” 

“Se—” 

Suguru slaps a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “What he means to say is that this isn’t the best area for a high school girl to linger.”

“W-Wait, hold on! I thought he was like a… er, how would you say that… sorcerer employer?” 

They both stare at you. 

“You do know what Kabukichō’s famous for, right?” Suguru tentatively asks. 

“Hm? ‘Kabuki’ is a type of traditional theater, isn’t it?” 

“...” 

“...” 

“Let’s just show her what we mean,” Satoru bends down, picking up two halves of the business card he split in half earlier. “It’ll be a good lesson. I’d rather not have to come fetch her in this place again— oh.” 

Suguru inspects what has the power to shut Gojo Satoru up. You watch as his eyes move back and forth, his face shifting while he does so. His lips narrow into a thin line when he pulls back. Curious, you stand on your tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse yourself. Thankfully, there’s yomigana above some of the kanji you don’t recognize. This eliminates any possibility of you misreading the card’s contents. 

‘Oh’ indeed, you think. That poor guy…

It’s a business card for the company that oversees AKB48. 

[mountainficss]

idea: collegeboy!jeonghan type but it's minghao hoshi or shua instead

i’ve been thinking about this prompt and i can’t stop thinking about a collegeboy!minghao…

collegeboy!minghao who is very very quiet. he sits next to you in your biology class, but has never spoken a word to you. you can’t help but notice how pretty he is, glancing over every once in a while to admire his plump lips and pretty painted nails. every time you peek at him he’s always hyper focused on his work, his dark hair hanging like a curtain over his eyes. you’d do your best to distract yourself, ripping your longing gaze away from him to focus on your work. even though you’re trying your best to not think about the gorgeous boy next to you, you continue to wonder what it would be like to know everything about him.

meanwhile minghao wonders the same things about you. sitting next to you every day was the most heavenly torture he’d ever experienced. he gets to sneak glances at the pretty girl sitting next to him, studying every detail of your face and features. but he also has to deal with the jittery feelings he gets just by being in close proximity to you, trying his best to ignore the nervous sensations in the pits of his stomach. he also has to attempt to ignore the faint smell of your perfume, the sweetness only making his weak stomach twist more with anxiety, with nerves. he’s never even spoken to you, but he swears he’s memorized the shape of your lips, and he’s certain that he’s embedded the exact color of your irises into his brain. he almost feels your eyes on him every time you glance in his direction, and he tries to pretend it doesn’t get to him. he tries to act nonchalant, but his heart hammers in his chest and a wave of heat courses through his body solely from the thought of you. the urge to talk to you eats away at him with each passing day, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to overcome his hesitance. until then, he’ll just keep thinking about you.

·𖥸·

you were stumped. you’d stare at your work with your eyebrows furrowed, slightly nibbling on the end of your pen as you try to understand the mass of information in front of you. biology was never your strongest subject, but you had always figured out the bare minimum of the lessons on your own. unfortunately, your luck had run out up to this point. you had no idea what was going on. you’d absentmindedly peek at minghao, studying his features for the millionth time already, and then trailing your gaze down to his hand. your eyes would widen at the sight of his practically finished work, and you were surprised to see how quickly he was writing down his answers. how does he understand this? you had decided to never again ask your professor for help, because the answers they provided only confused you more. now, you have another option. “i’m sorry,” you’d start quietly, watching minghao slightly turn his head towards you. “but do you think you could help me, please? i don’t understand this.” after a beat of silence, he’d give you the smallest nod and begin explaining his work to you. you can barely pay attention to his explanations, allured by his quiet voice and his gentle expression. you’d do your best to listen though, finding that his explanations make way more sense than your professor’s. minghao seemed so certain and sure of himself, and you were astonished with the ease he grasped the concepts.

but of course, poor minghao is not certain or sure of himself. he’s overthinking every sentence, over analyzing every expression you make. he’d wonder if you understood his explanations, almost positive you thought he was stupid from the little stutters escaping him occasionally. you just make him so nervous, and his well-developed composure evaporates from his body every time he even looks at you. his heart is hammering in his chest once again, so harshly that it feels as if it might break through his ribcage. “ahhh,” you’d observe, finally understanding the lesson now after minghao’s thought out explanations. “i totally get it now.” you’d gaze back up at the pretty boy, shooting him your brightest smile. you were beyond grateful for his help. “thank you so much, minghao.” you’d grin, receiving a shy “you’re welcome” from him in return. as you both refocus on your work, minghao would be reeling. the way you said his name sent a whole new swarm of butterflies to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t help but blush when his name left your lips in such a captivating way. and oh, the way you smiled at him? he felt like he was going insane. time had seemed to pass quicker than usual due to his stray thoughts, and just as he’s grabbing his things he hears your voice calling his name again. “hey, minghao?” you’d utter gently, watching him whip around towards you. you couldn’t help but think the dark blur of his form whirling around was cute in a way. “yes?” he’d answer timidly, hoping his voice didn’t sound too small and pathetic. he can’t control it when you say his name like that. “do you…think you can help me more with biology sometime? i’ll pay you, of course,” you’d propose, feeling a bit embarrassed to have to ask someone for extra help. you knew it was either that or risk failing, and you would much rather pass. “you just make it easy to understand. but if you don’t feel like it, it’s really no pressure. i totally understand.” of course your question would send minghao’s nerves through the roof. helping you with biology? alone? with you? he’s positive his heart would explode. he’d swallow anxiously, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly from the movement. “you don’t have to pay me,” he’d hesitate, opting to shove down his anxiousness and take a risk. he wouldn’t let himself pass up an opportunity to spend time with his biology crush. you were too pretty to turn down. “when do you want to meet again?” your eyes would widen a bit in surprise. you didn’t expect him to even consider it, let alone actually agree. “whenever you’re free. i’ll go by your schedule since you’re the one helping me,” you’d decide. “my dorm or yours?”

“y-yours,” minghao would falter. he wasn’t mentally prepared to be flung into your dorm, where you live and sleep every day, but seeing you in his dorm would be worse. imagining you seated prettily on his couch or sprawled out on his bed would just make his brain develop more detailed daydreams of you. he doesn’t need to make things harder for himself. you’d open your phone, giving it to minghao so he could put his number in. “let me know when you want to come over, okay? i’ll text you in a bit,” you’d smile at him as he responds with a tiny “okay.” poor minghao would be so distracted in his other classes, thinking of you and wondering when you’d text him. he can’t help but be eager when he knows that his number is nestled in your phone and that you could text him at any minute. hearing the ding from his phone while he’s in his dorm would make his heart stop. you had texted him.

unknown: hi! it’s (y/n)

unknown: when’s a good time for you to come over?

the thought of him coming over to your dorm made his stomach twist again. he couldn’t help but be excited, even if he was just coming over to help you with biology.

minghao: hi 👋 i’m free right now if you’re not busy.

you: sounds great! come over whenever you’re ready :)

after sending him directions to your dorm, minghao would waste no time making his way there. he’d be at your door in less than 10 minutes, knocking softly at the wood and waiting eagerly patiently for you to answer. you’d open the door for him, flashing him a pretty smile and moving aside to let him in. minghao could feel his face heating up already. he truly felt like he couldn’t breathe around you at times. you were dressed so comfortably, changing your clothes from earlier and throwing on a large hoodie. your shorts were proving to be trouble for him, slightly riding up your thighs when you moved and leaving little to his imagination. “wanna come to my room?” you’d ask sweetly, missing the way minghao gulped nervously at your wording. he’d respond with a slight nod, following you to your room and trying not to admire your exposed thighs.

you’d plop down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and patting the spot next to you. minghao would sit down cautiously next to you, clutching his biology notes in an attempt to ground himself. he had no idea why sitting on his crush’s bed felt so intimate to him, and he couldn’t help but blush a bit at the thought. “okay,” you’d begin, peeking at minghao’s notes. “where do you think we should start?”

you’d spend the next few hours with minghao going through all of his detailed biology notes. he’d help catch you up on the lessons you didn’t understand, explaining them in depth and answering all of your questions. no disrespect to your professor, but minghao explained all of the concepts way better than they ever could. you were thankful that you sat next to a pretty boy with such a strong understanding of biology. and minghao was thankful too! without biology being his strongest subject, he wouldn’t have an opportunity to get so close to his biology crush. (of course, he was only so good at the subject because he needed a distraction from his pretty seatmate. each class session he was invested in the lecture, solely because he needed a way to divert his attention away from you. you’d still find ways to sneak into his thoughts though, albeit without your knowledge <3) he was glad all of his hard work paid off, because now he has an excuse to meet with his biology crush :) he continued to hope that you would use only him for help, secretly wanting to get closer to you. now he finally had a chance!

writing a smutty continuation later of course, just want to start it off with a lil sweetness like i did with jeonghan’s <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[princessbrunette]

i'd just like to say a violent jayj threatening to rip someone's face off or anything of that sort would make me wet. thank u. - 🍓

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

you knew the random ass kook at the beach bar was in trouble the second he’d started talking to you.

jj had stepped away for a moment, just a moment — to take a call from john b, always feeling the need to answer just incase the boy had gotten himself into another inescapable shenanigan that he needed jj to dig him out of. you were leaning your elbows against the bar under the warm outdoor lighting, skin balmy and glowy as you take your time reading the menu stapled to the counter top, wondering what cocktail you’d go for.

“you seem like a cosmo kind of girl.” the kook slides up beside you, blinding white teeth and a polo shirt — the kook side of the islands very own uniform. you chuckle politely, diverting your eyes back to the menu attempting to kindly show your disinterest.

“oh, maybe.” you shrug evasively — hoping he’d get the hint and wander off to bother someone else. he didn’t.

“wait no, let me guess. something stronger? on second glance you kind of strike me as a party girl.” the man grins and you have to hold back a sigh. you were always on the shyer side unlike your boyfriend, never having the nerve to tell people to cut it out or leave you alone the way he would. jj tried to teach you, put his hands on your shoulders, look you in the eyes and say ‘if anyone ever bothers you, you look ‘em in the face and tell them that your boyfriend stays strapped. alright?’ of course, that didn’t seem appropriate. or like a good idea in general.

“nope.” your lips press together with a smile that begged him to leave you be, head even swivelling around theatrically to look for jj who had wandered off to take the call somewhere more quiet, now nowhere to be seen.

“c’mon, you think i don’t know your type? you seem all cold now, but get a couple of drinks in you and you’re ready to go. here, lemme get it for you.” he pulls out his card and nudges right up next to you, a hand sliding over your lower back. you shudder, pulling away— trying hard to be stern despite your shyness.

“really, i’m okay.” you frown, heart thundering when his expression drops, irritation reaching his eyes. he goes to speak, but a familiar voice immediately spawns from behind you.

“yeah i think she said she was okay, so you can walk away now.” jj shrugs, giving this guy a chance. the kooks eyes, narrow in on the blonde and scoffs, unimpressed.

“and who the hell are you? her knight in shining armor?” he glares, the malicious grin on jj’s face not faltering. from knowing jj, you knew this grin in itself was a threat. the calm before the storm. you brace for the chaos, moving back behind your boyfriend.

“try boyfriend, and i’m actually doin’ you a solid here brother. i really suggest you just walk away, right now.”

“or what?” the kook challenges, and jj’s venomous grin melted into merely having his teeth grit, bared like a dog as his patience runs thin.

“or i’ll rip your fuckin’ face off for talking to my girl. walk,” he shoves him back by the chest. “away, dude.” and once again, the man stumbling a little as a few eyes draw to the scene. locking stares with the security guard, the kook decides it’s better off he doesn’t get his ass beat, or get kicked out of the beach bar — so he trips over, walking away.

“you’re a psycho, pogue.” he accuses as he disappears and jj shakes himself off, blowing out an exhale as he turns back to you, fixing his hat.

“thats what i thought.” he rolls his shoulders before attending to you. “hey, i— i know you wanted just a chill night. i probably shouldn’t have caused a scene, just didn’t want him disrespecting my girl, you know?” his face falls, misreading the dazed expression on your face.

you glance around, looking for any remaining eyes on you and you move closer, whispering to him pathetically.

“i’m wet.” it comes out so quiet, he thinks he’s making it up.

“you’re — what now?” his head bobs forward in disbelief, eyes wide.

“i’m wet, jayj. take me home?” you mewl and he blinks a couple of times.

“from… that? me like… defending your honour n’shit?”

“yeah.” you giggle and a slow grin fades onto his once angry expression.

“oh you’re crazy. you’re my kind of crazy though — let’s go.” he grabs your hand, leading you briskly away.

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 2

Danny knew something was wrong. Jazz wasn’t the type to mess around and Danny knew she wouldn’t ask something like this. 

Hanging up the phone Danny thought about his next course of action. Searching up Amity Park got results for some news articles but they were severely lacking headlines about anything ghost related. Another search for his parents this time and they existed but unfortunately they never got the portal working. Great that meant he was trapped in this universe with no easy way back. 

Putting his phone away he slowly paced around the rooftop, wondering what steps he could take next. He couldn’t make his way back to Amity Park, he wondered if he could get the portal working but there wasn’t a guarantee they kept the portal in one piece when it didn’t work. He didn’t even know if his stamina could hold the flight back either. He doubted he could find a natural portal, the chance of another spawning nearby was abysmal. He had even left his wallet and keys in his backpack that he left in his locker, there was less chance of Dash stealing from him if he kept nothing of value on him in the first place. 

Before Danny had time to make a solid plan the door leading down the stairs burst open and none other than Batman and Robin ran though. Danny had no interest in meeting his father, especially in an alternative universe. They seemed to glance around the roof before they landed on Danny. He only had a couple seconds before Robin ran at him and swung his sword at him. Danny barely dodged before jumping back, getting some distance from Robin.

He took a breath before realizing something, there wasn’t a current Robin in his world. It didn’t make sense, all of the Robins of his world were either retired into a new vigilante name or in the case of Jason Todd, dead. Danny kept up with the Wayne family and the Batfamily, partially because of Sam and Tucker, and partially because of his own curiosity. Sam and Tucker may not have known about Phantom but they were his best friends and he’d do everything to keep them safe.

 This current Robin didn’t make any sense, Danny couldn’t make any sense of it. His thoughts caused him to lose focus for a moment and it was all Robin needed as Danny found himself on his back with Robin pointing his sword right at Danny's neck. 

It took Danny a moment of staring at the sword until he realized it was his sword. The exact same way he weld back in the League, this WAS him in this universe. Danny couldn’t help but stare, he was a little dumbfounded. How did his counterpart in this world get away from the League? His thoughts were interrupted when Robin started speaking,

“Quiet clone! What does mother want now?” Oh, Danny didn’t like the sound of this.

Danny could admit it was weird hearing the other speak in his voice, “Clone? I’m not a clone.” Danny tried but he could tell Robin wasn’t buying it. Danny could tell Robin narrowed his eyes at him in frustration.

“What do you mean you're not a clone? Except for your eyes you're a carbon copy!” Danny could tell he was getting agitated which might not end well. Danny thought about how to go about this conversation and he decided in the end maybe ripping the bandaid would be the best way to go. 

“I’m not a clone!” He repeated scooting a little ways away from the sword, Robin still had it pointed towards him but he didn’t move to attack, good maybe Danny could get some words out. “Alright this is going to sound crazy but I’m from an alternate universe.”

Robin paused like he was listening to something, probably a communication device. Then their Father Batman himself spoke. 

“Robin, I need you on backup with Nightwing. I’ll handle things here,” Danny hadn’t ever heard his father speak in person and he felt a little terrified about the conversation he was about to have. 

Robin gave him one more glare before heading out and grappling away. Batman approached Danny but stopped a ways away. Danny finally climbed back to his feet before Batman spoke.

“I believe you…” Danny was a little shocked at what he was hearing but he guessed Batman, one of the founders of the Justice League might have encountered some weird stuff in his life. 

Batman took a heavy breath before continuing, “ Follow me we can discuss this more once we're back at the cave. I’m sure your version of me is worried sick.”

Danny decided not to say anything on that but followed behind. 

The drive to the cave was mundane, Danny was just trying not to think about how difficult the next conversation would be.

Master Post:

Last:

Next:

[zer0pm]

Imagine working your first night in the village tavern and serving a drink to a man you catch sitting by his lonesome. He accepts your kind gesture and engages you in conversation. You didn’t realize you were talking to Lord Heisenberg until it was too late.

“Got a tall one with your name on it.”

The silver-haired man simply glances up at you from his seat, bright eyes switching between your smiling face and the full mug you’ve placed in front of him. The bored expression he wore previously relaxes into that of mild intrigue.

“I didn’t order that,” he says, amusement in his deep voice.

You shrug casually, “It’s on the house.”

When he didn’t say anything right away, you proceeded to explain yourself. “Barkeep mentioned you haven’t ordered anything since you got here. I figured I could spot you a round. Hope you don’t find it rude.”

To your surprise, the man chuckles, returning your patient smile with a toothy grin. “Can’t tell if you’re brave or just straight-up fucking strange. But you are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that.”

You tilt your head curiously, unsure of what to make of his comment. Perhaps, this stranger is one of those lone wolf types that rarely engage in social interaction. However, that didn’t seem correct. He seemed more like the type that enjoyed talking, if not just to hear the sound of his own voice. He has such a distinctive voice too, you found, the rich baritone hitting strings inside you that sent shivering notes tingling down your spine. You shudder not out of fear or anxiety, but out of genuine fascination.

The stranger takes the mug you’ve put down for him in one of his hands, lifting it by the handle and bringing it to his lips before tipping his head back. It gave you an opportunity to look him over. As you suspected, he is large in build. Burly and robust but not overly ripped in muscular definition. He looked strong and undeniably imposing, shaped by hard, laborious work. You imagine that if he wasn’t holding the mug at its handle, he could wrap his thick, calloused digits around the cup with ease. The loose shirt he wore had the sleeves rolled up, exposing several wiry scars that adorn the back of his hands and forearms. They varied in length and size, barely faded by time, and matched the old wounds that ran across his rugged face.

Questions danced upon your tongue on how he got his scars, but you thought better of it and bit them down. He looked different from the other men you’ve seen in the village and had a unique air about him too, one that you would be able to immediately spot in a busy crowd. He was quite handsome, in a rough sort of way.

The man must have noticed you staring for when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was already looking right at you. His bright gaze remained locked onto you even as he sets the drink back down with a quenched sigh, a devilish tongue swipes the excess liquid from damp lips before withdrawing behind wolfish teeth. The ends of his mouth tugs upwards, putting his canines into full display. The damn man is smirking again and his eyes had a knowing, teasing gleam to them. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, you bowed your head to hide the embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, you take a step back. “I-I’m going to see to my other patrons, then. If you need anything else, just-”

“What’s your name, buttercup?” He cuts you off. There is an edge to his tone, as if daring you to move from your spot before him.

Buttercup? He’s giving you a petname? Is it derogatory or is it a genuine term of endearment? Either way, it made your face burn hotter.

Overwhelmed with the need to answer him immediately, you gave the stranger your name without a second thought. He repeats it in a low, slow drawl as if testing and savoring the sound on his tongue. Your heart picks up speed and you spoke up again in a futile attempt to calm the rapid beating.

“What’s yours?”

Like flipping a switch, the air between you two suddenly shifts. The wide smirk he wore falters and his brows furrow. These few words seemed to have disarmed him as the grey-haired man beholds you with a piercing glare, searching your face for any signs that you are joking or something. You could do nothing but stare back, balancing on the balls of your feet nervously. When he found that you were sincere in your question, he grasps his bearded chin thoughtfully.

“Intriguing,” he comments, his expression deeply pensive. His reply didn’t relieve any of the tension you were feeling and you wondered if you somehow offended him for not knowing who he is. “Are you local?”

Unable to fathom where his line of questioning was heading, you decided that it was best to answer him honestly as you have been doing thus far. “Uhh, yes, of course. Born and raised. Although, I’m not from the immediate area, if that’s what you mean.”

A thick silver brow arches. “So, I take it you’re not the religious sort, then.”

You shake your head. There was no helping the guilt taking root inside you. Clearly this man thinks that his identity should be apparent to you. Thinking about it, he does look sort of familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You wished then that you paid more attention to the people around you in the weekly sermons.

“Not really,” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I rarely went to church. Not that I don’t follow the black faith, mind you. I just have other priorities. Life can be hard in the village, you know how it is.”

When he didn’t comment on this, you followed up with your own inquiry with the intention of making polite conversation. He mentioned religion, so…

“Are you a pastor?” That seemed like a logical thing to ask. But surely if he was leading the mass, you’d have remembered him right away. Maybe you simply missed each other in passing. You can’t shake the feeling that you do know him somewhere.

A bellowing laugh erupts from his throat. The man bends over on his seat, banging the wooden tabletop with a clenched fist as zealous humor consumed him. You didn’t notice that the rest of the tavern went completely quiet at his spontaneous outburst. When he finally sits back upright, he was in tears.

“Damn, you’re adorable!” He sighs deeply, his grin wide as he wipes the water from his eyes. “Do I look like the kind to give fucking sermons, buttercup?”

Again with the petname. You weren’t bothered by it this time. If anything, you took the lighthearted turn in the conversation as a good sign, pleased to see that the man looked like he was enjoying his time with you. Even at the expense of your embarrassment.

Deciding it best to play along, you returned his good humor with a playful smile of your own. “Looks can be deceiving.”

He scoffs, “Can say that again. Guess not everyone in Miranda’s herd is a sheep.”

You didn’t quite register that. “Excuse me?”

His hand waves off your question dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You…”, the grey-haired man leans back against his chair, his lopsided smile bordered on teasing. “You get to call me Karl.”

A surprised hum escapes you, you didn’t expect a man so interesting to have such an ordinary name. Thankfully, he didn’t seem offended by the involuntary sound. Remembering you had a job to do, you throw him a courteous nod.

“Nice to meet you, Karl. I really should check on my other customers. Is there anything else I can get you?”

He casts you a playful look, “Are you on the menu?”

Although you were standing still, you nearly tripped over on the spot and tried to save face by quipping back. “Ha ha. Think you’re so smooth.”

Karl shrugs, reaching for the mug once more and inspecting the contents lazily. “I prefer to be rough. But no, I think this will do. For now.”

Your brain shut down after “rough” and you were quick to retreat back to the bar, ears turning red upon hearing his knowing chuckle as you created distance. So distracted by the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you that you failed to realize that the usual hustle and bustle of the busy tavern was completely void of sound. A loud bang of what sounded like someone slamming their hand against the wood harshly is all that it took to bring life back into the room and the patrons returning to their own devices. This somehow went under your notice too. You did not regain your wits until the barkeep you were working with for the night snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Oy! New blood! Didn’t I tell you not to bother that one?” he reproached you. Was that panic in his eyes?

You blink back at your distressed coworker. “If it’s about the free tankard, I’ll foot the lei. Everyone else looked like they were having a fine time besides him. That didn’t seem right to me.”

The frantic man shook his head fiercely, “Whether or not he is enjoying himself isn’t any of our business. He could very well be plotting his wrath upon this establishment for what you did!”

The excitement that was bubbling within you before is now replaced by confusion. “Why would Karl do that? Who is he?”

The barkeep’s face falls into that of pure shock. “Are you completely daft!? He’s-”

He chokes. Suddenly, his expression pales to an alarming shade of white. From the corner of your eye, you spot a large shadow looming and felt an imposing presence from your side.

You turn your head to see the man from before standing next to you. But this wasn’t the Karl that you spoke with earlier. He had the same face but wore more clothing- more distinct articles of clothing that made you freeze on the spot upon recognition. Afterall, who could ever miss the signature dirty trenchcoat, or the dark, round glasses, or the well-worn hat of Lord Heisenberg himself? Who dares not recognize one of the four nobles that rule over the village with an iron fist? Evidently you.

He didn’t meet your eyes right away, instead he had a deathly glare directed right at the barkeep who was now quivering in his boots. “Because I’m in a good mood,” the lord began, voice descended into a low growl, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just called my new friend.” Lord Heisenberg then looks down at you behind black lenses, his demeanor shifting from threatening and terrifying to playful and pleasant.

His smile returns, seemingly wider than before, likely because he knows that you know who he is now. “Thanks for the drink, buttercup. I’ll see you real soon.” He pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose, winking at you before tipping his hat in an exaggerated head bow. With heavy footsteps, he takes his leave, not giving a second glance.

Your eyes followed him and lingered on the door he went through long after he left. There was a deafening silence. It filled the tavern for what seemed like an eternity before it was broken by the clanging of the metal tray you once held in your hands.

The lord of steel was here in the flesh. And you were talking to him so carelessly. And he was flirting with you so shamelessly. This was not how you expected your first day on the job to go. And he declared he intended to see you again.

You’re in deep trouble…

[xreaderanonaccount]

Hard to say (Dottore x G/N!Reader)

Prompt credits to deityprompts

To your utter surprise Pierro handed you a special mission, one that none of the Harbingers know about. Saying that it’s orders from the Tsaritsa herself. You had mixed emotions as you didn't know how to feel. Honored, scared, worried? You didn't know, too many emotions stirred around your head. Reading over the mission again it didn’t seem like a hard mission. Go to this fancy ball, infiltrate the head honcho’s office, steal certain information and leave. Simple enough. You told Dottore about this, expecting him to either A. not care or B. force you not to go, but his reaction was not what you expected.

As you explained the mission to him he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just paused all movement. You grew increasingly nervous as you continued your explanation. Dottore would normally say something by now but now… he’s just quiet. 

But once you mentioned the reason why Pierro wanted you to go a loud shatter was heard in the quiet lab. You yelped in surprise as you rushed over to Dottore. You quickly noticed red blood dripping onto the lab table and Dottore’s stone cold expression. 

“Oh my Tsaritsa! You’re bleeding, Dottore, stop gripping your hand too tight!” You exclaimed as you rushed to go grab a first aid kit that was somewhere around this lab. 

“You’re not going.” You paused your movements as you turned to Dottore’s hunched form.

“What?” You questioned, not quite sure if you heard him correctly. Dottore whipped around, even with his mask on you can feel the rage emitting from his eyes.

“You’re not going, I refuse to let you go.” Dottore gritted his teeth as he stalked towards you.

“Well, I can’t refuse Lord Pierro’s order” You stuttered as you shuffled a bit. Rarely do you defy Dottore’s orders, cause normally he was right. But this time you and him had no choice but to follow through. You watched as Dottore looked around the lab trying to gain support from his segments. But they all just shrugged and turned their heads. Delta only just said “stay safe” before heading back to their work. Dottore sighed in frustration as he gripped his hair, it seemed that no one was on his side. You watched as Dottore paced around the lab muttering something to himself. You couldn’t understand what he was saying as he was speaking Semurian. Dottore yelled in frustration before throwing a beaker at the nearest wall, smashing right next to Omega’s head, who didn’t flinch. 

Dottore sighed as he ripped his mask off rubbing his tired temples. Still gripping his blood soaked hand. This type of reaction was normal for Dottore, especially when it pertains to something he doesn't like. So no one really flinched or moved when Dottore threw his small tantrum. You took a small step back as Dottore took three steps and reached you. Before you can even utter his name he engulfed you in a hug. You yelped his name as he placed his full weight onto you. You struggle to try to hold him up as he sinks into your arms. 

“Just don’t die.” He mumbled against your shoulder. 

“What?” You asked, trying to pull him away to clearly understand him. Dottore looked you dead in your eyes, his ruby eyes unreadable as leaned in closer to you. Your lips barely touch each other.

“Just- try not to die. I’m really not bothered to replace you.” Dottore sighed as he planted a rare soft kiss on your lips. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle as he went in again for another kiss.

“Hey if we’re giving our darling kisses, I want to give some too!” Iota exclaimed, lightly shoving Dottore aside peppering you with kisses all over your face. You giggled as Iota was quickly shoved by Theta who wanted to give you a smooch as well. You glanced behind seeing a small line being formed with all the segments inside the lab. At least you’ll get enough kisses for one day.

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune

[zyonsay]

I got a new man on me, it's about to get sweaty LN4

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: You spot Lando in the crowd at your concert and decide to take him to your hotel room

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Very suggestive, smut only indicated at the end

Now playing: "Escapism" by RAYE & 070 Shake

AN: Hey pookies, i got ripped a new one by a chemistry exam yesterday haha. Kill me.

Anyways! I've been listening to Ferrari Horses/Escapism a lot and i ALWAYS had this picture of Lando in my head while doing so! I hope y'all like this <3

The stage lights went out as you entered the stage with an elevator. As soon as you were situated, which had to be quickly, one singular spotlight shone onto you, as you chimed in.

“Sleezin n’ teasin’, im sittin’ on em. All of my diamonds are dripping on em.”

The crowd cheered at your appearance, you’d gained a lot of international attention in the last month or so. Numerous people attended your concert, though one very special person was standing in the front row.

Lando discovered your music not too long ago, but when he did it was the perfect match. He loved your voice; it was sweet and breathy but also sharp as a dagger. The base hits perfectly and your talent for lyricism fascinated him.

He watched each of your movements, enjoying your elegant and hot performance. He had to admit, you were very pretty and exactly his type, though he didn’t think it’d be very likely that he’d ever speak a word to you.

The brit could feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you dancing around to the crowd’s roars. The black fabric of your top perfectly hugged every dip and curve and your low hanging pants showed off your beautiful hips and parts of your underwear.

“At least it’s the Prada two-piece that i’m trippin’ in.”

…

“And I’m already acting like a dick, know what I mean?”

…

“So, you might as well stick it in.”

The next thing that happened made Lando’s heart stop beating for a moment. You pointed at him, then at yourself and finally crossed your fingers. His knees felt like they were going to give in, and a very apparent grin spread across his face.

You had found your prey for the night, and he happily obliged.

Lando wasn’t quite sure what to do since he couldn’t just sneak backstage. So, he just stood around, waiting for you to appear and drag him to the nearest hotel. His mind was filled with images of you under him, on top of him, or kneeling before him. And then you were there, a sly smile on your face and an unknown glint in your eyes.

He escorted you to his 765LT Spider, making small talk and complimenting your performance. He was funny and sweet, but for the night you couldn’t care less, you just wanted to bring him back to your luxurious hotel room and fuck him.

As you guided him through the hotel lobby one of your hands snaked around his waist, causing him to quickly glance at you with a mischievous smile. While walking trough the corridors, towards your room, his hand landed on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You exhaled sharply; he was cheeky.

Just before you could open the door with your card, he spun you around and pressed you to the door. His lips caught yours in a feverish kiss and his hands started roaming, tugging slightly at the waistband of your bottoms. You groaned into the kiss, making him chuckle.

You then managed to pull out your card and unlock the door. Neither of you wanted to waste any time, so you were already peeling your clothes off. You helped him with his dress shirt, pulling it from him after opening all the buttons. You were barely left in your underpants when he threw you on the grey designer couch as if you were a Ragdoll. Lando left kisses all over your body, leaving hickey after hickey while massaging your inner thighs with his careful hands.

His mouth got closer and closer to your core while his hands had slipped under the back of your underwear to grope your ass.

“Take these off for me.”

[dellalyra]

you putting “megumi needs his mom rn” in the cw makes me wonder how he and the family reacted to yuuji dying after the detention center mission (and also what was the reaction to him coming back since i’m assuming gojo told reader before they revealed it to everyone else)

Family Formations - Part Eleven

Summary: Deja vu visits you when your son loses his best friend.

Warning: swearing, angst, acc kinda soft too, mourning, mentions of blood and vomiting, canon typical violence, MDNI

A/N: I had already started this fic when this request came through so loving the telepathy going on here. Also. This is sad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it worth it dw dw.

Recommended Listening:

Daylight - David Kushner

No Surprises - Radiohead

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Sparks - Coldplay

Your doorbell chimed, glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace from you’d spot on the sofa, 8 pm? Satoru wasn’t due home until 9 pm plus - he just warped inside your home. Did he order your flowers again? You check the baby monitor and see your 4-month-old is still sound asleep in his crib.

Walking up to the door, you sensed a very familiar cursed energy. Megumi? What’s he doing here, it’s Wednesday.

You could hear the rain and thunder pouring and hitting your windows in waves.

You open the door, and you see nothing.

A whimper emanates from beside you, and on the ground – slumped against the doorway is your eldest boy.

You fall on your knees beside him.

“Megumi! Baby, what’s going on? You’re going to catch a cold.” You brush his hair out of his face, and you are stricken with the realisation that he is crying. His angular face is so devoid of any emotion, but the tears scream otherwise. You could count the number of times you’ve seen him cry in 10 years on one hand and you hadn’t been prepared for this tonight.

“Jesus, baby what’s going on?” You try to heave him up from the ground and he’s as limp as a rag doll as you try to guide him inside the door. The hallway is as far as you can manage his weight before you give in and shut the door to the outside world. He’s now just leaned against your sage green wall, if he wasn’t breathing, you’d think he was comatose.

Only now do you realise he’s bleeding. His lip is busted, and his eyebrow is too. But what type of curse would elicit this reaction?

“Megumi? Honey? Talk to me - what’s happened?” You kneel beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the top of his head.

Empty eyes, now a dull blue, look up at you through lashes soaked with rain and tears.

“He’s dead.” The tiniest voice, again, void of emotions.

Satoru? No – you had been on the phone with him 20 minutes ago.

“He killed him.” His eyes are facing you – but they’re looking straight through you.

“Who’s dead, Megumi?” You probe – anxiety gripping your stomach like a vice.

“Sukuna – ripped his heart out. In front of me. Just ripped it out. His heart. He’s dead.” The words are barely intelligible in the mumbles that come from his out and you’re still as confused, Sukuna? How could- oh my god Yuuji is dead.

Yuuji Itadori.

Dead.

“Oh my god – fuck. Megumi, my sweet boy.” At this point, he turned to you.

He looked into your eyes.

He turned his head and vomited on the floor beside him.

You pull him into you, tears flooding your face as you think about that sweet, sweet boy – a soul too good for this world so brutally ripped out of it.

You wipe his mouth on your sweater sleeve and once again haul him up into your grasp he almost falls but you pull on every muscle fibre you had – you needed to get him dry and cleaned up.

A memory played in your mind, a sense of déjà vu – Satoru vomiting and sobbing and you shaking with tears curled up together – the loss of another best friend. The fates were cruel masters to make you relive this scene again.

Once he was up the stairs you lay him on his bed. Where he just sat on the edge, legs still on the ground and stared at his shoes. He went to vomit again, and this time you caught it with a bucket you’d retrieved from the closet.

“I need to get a cloth. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t acknowledge this. You just needed a moment to gather yourself before you went back in - you’d be no good to him if you continue to try to help in the state you're in, a mess of shock and grief and anger. White hot anger.

You shut the en suite door of his room behind you, and you rush to the toilet and heave up all of your remaining food at the mental image of that darling boy laying cold and dead and gutted on the ground.

You give yourself a moment – your son and you breathe so that you can deal with everything later – wait, does Satoru know?

Grabbing a cloth – you go into the room, laying the cloth down for a moment, you go into your and Satoru’s room and grab one of his sweatshirts. In Megumi’s room, you pull sweatpants from his wardrobe and look at your son. He’s dripping rainwater onto the carpet and there’s blood from his injuries mingling, tinging it pink.

You think some of the puddles might be tears, his or your own, you don’t know.

You stand in front of him, remembering the times when you’d do this to help him into his frog pyjamas - he was only 6 back then – 16 now and 5ft 9 – almost a whole foot taller than you. You lift his arms and unzip his jacket – his T-shirt underneath is soaked through too. You peel them both from him and check for cuts on his torso – bruises, old and fresh – but no blood.

You pull Satoru’s sweatshirt over his head, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re moving him. He’s just limp in your arms, and you swear to anyone who’s listening to if you could take that pain and shoulder, it yourself then you would.

You peel his slacks down, pulling his sweatpants (a Christmas present from your brother) onto his lanky legs you tuck his hair behind his ears and dry it with a cloth. You then dab at his bleeding wounds, they’re clotting now, and the bleeding is stopping.

You throw the cloth away to the far side of the room.

He’s seen enough blood for today.

Tears are flowing freely from you both as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

Your proximity must trigger him back to this plane of existence and he looks at you.

“I couldn’t save him.”

“I know sweet boy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

“It was a special grade – he, the curse had a finger. Our mission didn’t say any of that.”

“A special grade? Was Satoru there?” He couldn’t have been, he was in Osaka today.

“No. Just me and Kugisaki and Itadori.” His voice quavers.

You knew exactly what happened. It was clear from even the bare minimum you had heard.

But – now was not the time. Willing yourself to push the thoughts aside. Megumi doesn’t need that right now.

“You did everything you could, ‘Gumi. There was nothing you could have done.”

This was his kryptonite. A heavy, choked sob broke through the air and his body collapsed onto you.

“His heart – he ripped it out. He was right there and he just – momma, he’s dead. I couldn’t save him, Momma.” You broke down, sobbing yourself, cradling this boy – this poor broken boy, into your chest as you hugged him so tight you could feel every shake of his body in your own. You carefully moved. you both so you could sit against his headboard with his sobbing head laid on your stomach.

You are so grateful that Akio is a heavy-sleeping baby because you need to focus on your oldest son now. He needed you, and you were his to protect him, 100%.

You stroke his hair and whisper placating nothing into his ear. Nothing will fix this. Nothing will make it easier or make it feel better. You just need to be here; you just need to hold him now. You can tell him until the cows come home that he did all he could, he couldn’t have stopped Sukuna, that it was not his fault – but all these worlds will refuse to sink in until he’s ready to hear them. Yet, you tell him anyway. Over and over again.

You’ve no idea how much time passes. Your tears mingle with the lingering water on the side of his head as you cry with him but eventually, the sobs turn into heavy breaths, and you realise he’s passed out. Sheer exhaustion has taken his body hostage and for a second, you’re put at peace knowing at least right now – his mind will be quiet.

You slip your phone from your pocket, without moving or disturbing the boy on your lap.

‘Please call me.’ A message from Satoru.

You ring him.

The phone barely dials once before you hear his voice – hoarse.

“Y/N. I –”

“I know ‘Toru. Megumi came home.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.” He sounds so broken.

“You have no reason to be sorry baby, we both know how this managed to come to pass.” You hated that he always still felt the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“I’ll kill them all.” He says, and you know he’s serious.

“You could, but you won’t. Maybe 10 years ago – maybe then we’d have done it together. But not now, not anymore.” You reply, voice still thick with tears.

There’s silence.

“Where are you, ‘Toru?”

“The morgue.”

“Shoko?”

“On her way in.”

“I can’t leave the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

He hangs up the phone. Nothing more needs to be said. These feelings are sadly all too familiar to you both. You realise Shoko will have to do the autopsy.

She delivered Akio 4 months ago. Now she’d be cutting up the corpse of the boy who waited outside of the labour ward for 16 hours.

You lean your head back – closing your eyes. Flashes of a pink head tossing back in laughter and strong arms hugging you in thanks, of meatballs served to you as you nurse your newborn and the Spider-Man lamp being plugged in making you smile at the giddy teenager. The faces change, now they’re old and wrinkled and whisper words with serpentine tongues laced with deceit and heartlessness in their actions. They knew what they were doing. Satoru wasn’t in Osaka for no reason. They knew.

They all fucking knew.

They sent him to his death, knowingly and intentionally. They sent three children into a trap all because they are scared. Cowards who hide behind words of ‘the good of society’ and the guise of ‘the greater good’. Satoru and you had screamed and pushed and threatened to stay the execution, but they found a loophole anyway.

They risked Megumi and Nobara – did they think you wouldn’t piece together the big picture? Did they think that you wouldn’t realise?

You don’t know how long you sat there but your phone buzzed again.

📲Satoruuuuu is Calling… ✅⛔️

You pick up.

“He’s alive.”

“What?”

“He’s alive. Yuuji’s alive. Sukuna woke him up…” There are so many tones in his voice and so many thoughts in your head you have to close your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Well - he’s talking and walking so unless The Last of Us was accurate then…” he attempts a joke – relief clear in his voice.

You softly lift the head from your lap, and place it on the navy pillow. He doesn’t stir.

You walk out into your room, sitting on the balcony – the air was what you needed.

“I don’t know what to say.” That is all you can manage.

The torrent of emotions your mind went through was making you so dizzy you sat on the wooden chair looking at the sky.

“He’s not safe here, they’re going to come for him.” Satoru’s voice comes, quiet through the phone.

“What will we do?” You say.

“He needs time, he needs to train and learn to manipulate and use his cursed energy. If he can protect himself…” Satoru begins.

“We need to hide him. He can’t stay at school or come here.” Your sorcerer’s brain was switched on now.

“I can’t bring him to the Gojo estate either, the elders the family visit too much.” He speaks.

Lightbulb.

“They visit your family… but they’d never think to visit mine. Satoru, bring him to my mom’s. I’ll call her, you can train him there every day, and if we’re being watched it’s not suspicious to visit our own family. She’ll take care of him.” You say, you knew that your family would protect this boy with their lives, he was family to Megumi, family to you.

“Y/N… we can’t tell anyone. The only people who know are me, you, Shoko and Ijichi.” He says, and your heart stops.

You’ll have to lie to Megumi.

“Fuck. It’s too dangerous for him to know – if they catch wind of this, and they find out he knows…” you say.

“He’ll be branded a traitor. Who knows what they’d do for information.”

“He’s going to hate us.”

“He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.”

“Come home to me, to us – ‘toru. Bring him to my parents and then please come home.” You whisper to him.

He agrees and tells you he loves you.

The weeks fly by as you feel yourself crumbling from the weight of the sadness spilling from your son, Kugisaki isn’t much better and Satoru is still reeling from the elder’s deceit. You stormed to the council meeting the following day and threatened to burn the place to the ground if they so much as considered harming a hair on the head of the other kids.

“Unfortunate circumstances occur on missions. Nobody knows the outcome of these situations.” They fought.

“Oh – you knew the outcome of this one. You knew full well. All of you, every single one of you knew and you allowed it. In legal terms, that’s murder. You’re all sociopaths and whatever awaits you in the next world, I hope it hurts even a fraction of the pain you’ve all caused. Endanger my family again, and I’ll deal with you all personally – never mind Satoru.”

The training was going well – you had gone to your mother’s house two days after his resurrection, after the water cooled and you were sure you weren’t being surveilled.

You had run to Yuuji, running your eyes and hands over every bit of him, checking for wounds and crying into his shoulder. He had died, and somehow you were being comforted by him.

Satoru and you explained the situation, taking turns to train with him. They came up with a ridiculous idea of Yuuji playing Jack in the Box at the exchange event all you could do was allow it.

Back home – you explained to Megumi that the mission had been a nefarious plot concocted by the elders and higher ups to get rid of Yuuji, since you and your husband kept getting in the way – they took the opportunity of your maternity leave to send Gojo to Osaka and place the kids in the path of a Special Grade Curse. You hoped being armed with this information would help him understand why you and Satoru had lied to him, and allowed him to grieve. It hurt you, but his safety was paramount.

When the day came and Yuuji was released, you stood beside Megumi as he and Nobara watched him return from the dead. Jaws hanging open, they couldn’t tear their eyes from their friend.

Reunions and rejoicing complete, you and Satoru pulled Megumi by the sleeve away from the scene, into your classroom.

When the door shut, you began to sob.

“‘Gumi, I’m so sorry. We didn’t have any choice but to keep it a secret. It –” Satoru wraps you into his chest.

“We had to keep it secret, because they would have killed anyone involved if they found out, kiddo. We had to keep you safe.” He says hand on Megumi’s shoulder and a crying wife clinging to him.

“It’s okay.” Megumi shrugs.

You freeze, you thought he’d never forgive you.

“What?” You and Satoru say in unison.

“I get why you did it. Thank you, guys, – for helping him, and uh – for protecting us all.” He says and God this boy will never fail to amaze you. His maturity was something you and Satoru could only have dreamed of at his age and even rarer was hearing such genuine praise from him – he was softer with you, but this was directed to you both.

Wordlessly, you and Satoru wrapped him in your arms and he begrudgingly and awkwardly reciprocated the affection.

Over his head, you looked at your husband. His crystalline eyes filled with relief and love for you and your patchwork family, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips – a silent thank you for everything you do. The road was never easy, but God was it worth it.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

[annwrites]

saving you from yourself .·. ˎˊ˗

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader (gn! in this post, but fem! in other installments i have/will post(ed))

— type: ficlet

— summary: you wish to stay at the cdc as the clock counts down, but shane, once again, refuses to lose you

— tags: shane protecting you with his body, shane saving your life

— tw: explosions, attempted suicide

— word count: 839

— a/n: find my other posts concerning shane, which take place before & after this, here

“I’m staying, Shane. This is what I want,” you say quietly—pleadingly—with tears shimmering in your eyes.

He’d heard those very same words from you only a few days prior at the quarry. And they hadn’t worked then, nor would they now. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d shoot you in the damn leg and carry you out, if that’s what it took.

He should've known—should've known—when he saw the look in your eyes—that gut-wrenching look of peace and understanding...perhaps even finality—that had come across your features when Jenner told everyone what would happen when the clock hit zero would lead to this.

He'd watched you as the man spoke—as he talked ridiculously about how it was "better"—hoping, praying, you wouldn't see it that way. That, between the quarry and the CDC, you'd found some small will to live. Some reason, even if it was a tentative one.

But you hadn't. Not for a moment. Not even for him.

You'd barely talked over dinner that first night. Had idly pushed your food around your plate before silently going off to bed without saying a word to anyone.

You were wasting away before his eyes and... He couldn't lose one more person he'd come to care for.

He wouldn't let you just rip yourself away from him.

He'd heard what Dale had said to Andrea: that you don't get to come into someone's life, make them care, and then just check out. Even if making him care, making him want to look out and provide safety and something more, perhaps—had never been your intentions.

It'd happened anyway.

He wanted to throw those words in your face, but knows they won't make a difference.

Maybe it's stupid of him to keep pulling someone back from the edge who's so eager to step off of it, who doesn't care about who they're leaving behind. But maybe he's stupid, then. Must be something about him: wanting women who only want to leave.

But this time it isn't about you leaving him. It's about you leaving yourself.

He can't let that happen. Not while there's still some chance to prevent it.

He glances to the clock which has damn-near run out, then back to you. He grabs your wrist painfully, his calloused hand forming an iron-tight grip. “We are not about to do this again. I am not about to watch you burn to death in this damn place.”

“Shane-”

He cuts you off. “No!” He shouts. “Enough is enough, and I have had it with this damn suicide mission you seem to be on. Now, you either leave this place willingly, or I will shoot you in the God-damn leg and throw you over my shoulder and force your ass out.”

He doesn’t bother giving you a chance to even try and talk him out of it before he slips his hand down to yours, twining his fingers painfully between your own as he pulls you along, through hall after hall, until you’ve made it to the surface.

Just as the two of you enter the front of the building where you first came in at, you see Rick running toward you. “Get down! Grenade!”

Shane immediately wraps his arms around you, squeezing you against his chest and throwing the two of you on the floor as the explosion hits, sending millions of tiny shards of glass in every direction.

When he stands, he yanks you up by your upper-arm, leading you through the now-open window.

You’ve all barely made it to your vehicles before you hear someone yell to, once again, get down.

Shane and you fall against the ground so hard it knocks the breath out of you for a moment. He, once again, covers the length of you with his broad frame, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you to him. Hot concrete bites against your backside, the front of you practically buried against him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as it finally happens—an absolutely deafening explosion, which makes you cringe further into him, your body shaking in fear and terror against him. And every time you think it’s nearly done, something else implodes, sending rubble and debris flying across the front lot, slamming into the ground, or against the cars.

You hang onto him for dear life, until, finally, it’s over.

Shane has to pull you up, your legs are now so weak—your ears ringing—and you feel utterly disoriented.

You stare up at him, at his wide eyes, creased forehead, and furrowed brows, but you can’t hear a thing he’s shouting at you as he holds your face firmly between his large hands. Finally, he shoves you into the passenger side of the Jeep, buckling you in with shaking hands, before coming around to the driver’s side and starting the vehicle.

You stare at the flames which now serve as the resting place for Jacqui and Jenner as everyone begins to drive away, Shane’s free hand—which is still shaking—holding onto your own.

[mrkis]

touch me softly. (m.l)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mark lee x reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.7k

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your virgin boyfriend is always happy to please you and now you want to return the favour, but mark gets overwhelmed from the slightest of touches by you

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: sub mark is my favourite type of mark, big cock mark as always, established relationship, slight dom!reader, oral (giving), mark really can't handle your touches

𝐀.𝐍: credit to @ncteez for bouncing ideas back and forth with me and crying over sub mark. also, this isn't proofread. don't come at me.

“You know, I, uh, I don’t think I can—oh god, okay, wait I—jesus christ!!! Hold on!!!” Mark splutters his words, a strangled gasp leaving the back of his throat as he thrashes around on the bed to rip your hands away from his cock and you drop them to your lap in defeat, staring at Mark with your lips pouted but eyebrows raised in slight amusement. 

His head rests against the pillow, fingers knotted in his hair as he tries to regain steady breathing despite his chest rapidly moving, gulping for air. His bare thighs quiver against the bedsheets, goosebumps covering the skin from your previous touch and the cold air from the open bedroom window.

Mark’s always been sensitive to any touch, especially yours. He can’t stop his body from reacting to you and it pains him. He’s never been able to take it further with you despite being in a relationship with you for the past four months. He’s been a giver throughout your relationship, which neither of you mind and Mark’s always up for laying in between your legs and devouring you up like you’re his last and only meal. He gets a kick out of seeing you be so needy and desperate under his touch. 

But tonight was the night. You want to finally please your boyfriend, to give him what he’s been so deserving of since your first encounter. 

You and Mark first met through mutual friends and you have never wanted to drop to your knees so fast and take his cock down your throat and choke until you physically needed a break. He was shy and he was awkward, cheeks dusted a faint pink as he refused to make eye contact with a woman of his age (or any woman in general). He was cute too, his body drowning in an oversized dark blue sweatshirt and a black beanie covering his head with strands of curly hair peeking through the bottom, round circular glasses covering half his face.

And he was attractive. You couldn’t stop paying attention to how his voice dipped from time to time during certain conversations with the others, how his eyebrows pull together in deep thought when he’s thinking about things to say, how the corner of his lips curl upwards into a grin when someone says something funny and he’s about to laugh. It’s the way he stood too, either with his arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side as he listened intently or when he shoved his hands deep inside his pockets with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

You wanted him, and eventually, you got him.

“It’s only been five minutes, Mark…” You tease, taking a quick glance at the digital clock on his bedside table.

“Yeah, and I feel like I’m going to die” Mark snips back, voice a little raspy and he huffs as his hands run down his face and rests at his covered chest, fingers pinching at the red fabric of his shirt that he’s kept on this entire time. Your eyes dart down to his feet, socks too. Mark notices your attention is drawn elsewhere and he nudges you with his foot, heart jumping when you turn your head to look at him. “Okay. I can do it. Let’s try again—Yeah, I’m ready”

“You sure?” You push, unable to control your excitement as your hands lay flat against his thighs and Mark jerks at the contact, cock twitching against his stomach. “I don’t think you are”

“No—I can—I’m ready, promise” Mark fumbles his words, nodding his head quickly as his hands come down to grab yours, dragging them up and over his toned stomach, placing your hands just below his chest where his shirt bunches up. “Just touch me softly, okay?”

You hum with a short nod, gently rubbing your hands over his chest, thumbs brushing over his nipples to which makes him whine, pressing his lips together tightly and closing his eyes as he tries to fight the urge to push your hands away from him again, clenching his fists as you lean down, breath fanning across his skin as your tongue pokes out to flick over his hardening nipples. 

“Fuck—Wait, I—Shit” Mark chokes out as your wrap your lips around his nipple and he jumps as he feels your teeth graze him. “Feels…Feels good, but—wait—too much. Please. They’re too—Ah! Please!! They’re too sensitive, I can’t”

“All of you are sensitive, Mark” You tell him as you mouth down his chest and stomach, leaving wet kisses in your path and his stomach sucks in with a gasp as he feels your tongue circle around his belly button, dipping into his navel. His eyes snap open as he leans up on his elbows, panting heavily as he watches you hover about his desperate cock with blurry vision. “Just relax, okay? Breathe. I’ll make you feel good”

“Soft…” Mark reminds you. “Softly”

“I know” You press the faintest of kisses to his tip that dribbles with so much precum you have to stop yourself from taking him whole, to drink him up and have him your way. Mark’s eyes flutter at the contact, dropping his body back down to the bed and digging his head into the pillows, gripping the covers to keep himself grounded.

Mark doesn’t know how to act when he feels you take his cock in both your hands once again, jerking him off at a slow and steady pace. Your touch sends him over the edge and he goes to push you away from the sensitivity but he breathes through it, wanting to hold out for longer than a mere few seconds despite his body burning up and legs beginning to quiver. 

You’re enjoying the pathetic sounding whines that leave him, watching his knuckles turn white from the grip he has on the bed sheets, watching how his neck strains and the veins that protrude from the skin as he throws his head back with a guttural groan when your fingers touch his balls.

“Why am I so sensitive?” Mark blubbers mostly to himself, shifting slightly but not enough for you to let him go. He’s so turned on and he so badly wants to lean up on his elbows to watch how you work your hand over him but he’s too weak, he can’t hold himself up for long without his head going blank and falling back down to the mattress. He finds himself pathetic, especially with how he’s salivating at the mouth at the slightest of your touch, at how airy his head feels and how he feels like he’s on the verge of passing out already.

Everything hurts but in the best way possible and Mark wants more, he just doesn’t know if he can handle more.

“It hurts” Mark whispers quietly. “It’s so—fuck— so good it hurts, it really hurts”

“What hurts?” You ask him warily, wondering if maybe you’ll have to put a stop to everything once and fall which makes your mood fall slightly, but you would do anything to make sure Mark is comfortable.

“My cock” His cheeks flush at his crude words, throwing an arm over his face to hide himself from you. “It hurts”

An idea pops into your head and a smile instantly crawls onto your face, tilting your head to the side and you speak quietly, “I can make the pain go away, Mark… I can make it go away and make you feel better. Do you want that? Do you want me to make the pain go away?”

“Please”

Without even a mere second of hesitation, you lean down to take Mark’s cock into your mouth with struggle, using your tongue to ghost over his tip as you swallow him. Mark cries out in shock, mouth stuck open wide as his head falls to the side, watching you through hooded lids as his body turns immobile. Drool seeps past his lips, high pitched moans turning into airy noises of pleasure. 

You feel so proud to turn your boyfriend into a mess just from your hands and mouth alone, and you begin to think what would happen when you’re finally able to have your pussy wrapped around his cock. The thought makes you pulse between your legs and you groan, the vibrations around his cock working Mark back into reality as he begins to move his head, hips following pursuit as they roll upwards on instinct, helping you swallow him further down your throat. But it’s when his cock gets stuffed at the back of your throat that makes him lose everything.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum—fuck—please—I can’t—’s too much fuck fuck—please, please please—” Mark babbles uncontrollably, his whole body beginning to shake and jerk from the heat of your mouth becoming too much for him. He’s loud, he’s so whiney and loud, thrashing around on the bed to escape your grasp but you don’t let him go so easily, opting to just use your hands instead of your mouth as you aim his cock towards him, watching as thick ropes of cum spurt rapidly from his tip and paint his belly white. 

He’s sucking in huge gulps of air, eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body stills, allowing you to tug his cock through his orgasm, unable to use his voice to tell you how fucking good he feels right now.

You’re giggling at yourself and at him, but you’re impressed with the amount of cum that he covers himself and your hand in. It’s a beautiful sight and you’re desperate to take a picture to keep this memory forever, giving his spent cock a few more slow and soft tugs before you let go.

“Are you okay?” You ask him with a slight nudge of your elbow and Mark manages to nod his head dumbly, sitting up just in time to watch you bring your hand to your lips and suck his cum off of your fingers, swiping your tongue across your bottom lip to clean up any mess left behind with a satisfied noise. You tease, “Wow, the watermelons really pay off”

“Don’t do that…” Mark whispers softly, eyes dropping down to your lips. “You’ll make me get hard again”

“Again?” You repeat with a laugh. There was no way Mark could get hard again after what he’s just been through, and to test that theory, you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock only for Mark to whine and grab your wrists tightly in your grasp, pulling you away in an instant and you laugh, bringing his hands to your face to press soft kisses upon the back of his hand. “Yeah, that's what I thought” 

©mrkis

[theburnoutgiftedkid]

Hello hello! I’m on my obey me shit again thanks to Nightbringer so please enjoy this self indulgent fic. If I was in MC’s place I def would have a breakdown so you will too <3 also I may have sprinkled some itsy bits Solomon x reader

Word count: 800+

Warnings: nightbringer spoilers (just like the main idea, nothing too bad), mental break, hurt/comfort ish, breaking shit, crying, Solomon being soft for reader, gn!reader

- Outlet -

You sat on your new bed in an unfamiliar house in a place that should feel like home. After Solomon dropped the bomb that without reforging the pacts you would essentially be stuck in the past forever, you excused yourself to take a shower to clear your head.

The shower, unfortunately, was counterproductive and actually just made your thoughts more jumbled. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or both or neither. Everything looked the same but nothing was the same. Except for Solomon, but that wasn’t really helping you right now. He couldn’t help you, not really.

You were in the past. You hadn’t even been born yet. Hell, your great grandparents hadn’t even been born yet. You couldn’t go to anyone for comfort. Solomon, bless his heart, doesn’t know how to comfort someone to save his life. Or theirs, considering he always offers to make them food. You didn’t have any family or friends here. Your best friends had no clue who you were, didn’t trust you enough to stay close. You were completely alone.

You had tried to scroll through the old messages between you and your boys, but it’s as if they had been deleted, or never happened. Technically they hadn’t yet. Everything was adding up and you weren’t sure how to let it out. You didn’t like to yell, you weren’t the type, but that’s all you wanted to do. Just scream and curse at whoever or whatever had done this to you. Had taken away everything and everyone you had ever loved and then dangled it in front of you, close enough to see, not to touch.

You stood up and walked over to a desk that sat in your room. On it was an antique lamp, some ceramic statue, and other stuff that really just looked breakable.

So that’s what you did.

You shoved everything off of the desk. The lamp clattering and the statue shattering. With a racing heart, you walked over to the bookshelf just a few paces away and starting demolishing it. Books, heavy and light, were thrown every which way. You went around the room, ripping open drawers and cupboards and just absolutely tearing everything up. Papers, clothes, pens, curtains. Anything and everything that wasn’t bolted down was a victim of your vengeful hands. You threw the covers off of the bed, the pillows following not long after.

Finally, there was nothing left to destroy. But your anger had subsided and this the waterworks began. Tears, hot and fat and unrelenting rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed. Curled up on the bed, hands covering your ears and pulling at your hair as your legs were splayed limp in front of you.

You were unsure how long you grieved for the life taken from you, but sobs had turned into soft sniffles and whimpers. A gentle knock on the door and a soft call of your name brought you back to yourself. You quickly wiped away the tears and snot that dribbled down your chin, carefully stepping over your mess to open the door for Solomon.

His eyes glanced at the room for just a moment before meeting your tired and puffy eyes. With a gentle touch, he guided you out and pulled you to another room, presumable another guest bedroom. You were numb, could barely process the soft words he was whispering as he helped you under the covers. When he turned to leave, you panicked, grabbing his wrist tightly to stop him.

“Please,” you whimpered, eyes welling up again. His gaze softened, “Don’t leave me alone.”

He hesitated, but when you uttered his name so softly, voice wavering with fear and grief, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny you. Then again, he never really could to begin with. Solomon gently lifted the covers, sliding in next to you as you made room for him.

He didn’t protest as you laid your head on his chest, hand tightly gripping his shirt as if he would disappear at any second. His arm draped around your shoulders, holding you against him while his other hand rested on top of your fist that gripped his shirt. The exhaustion caught up to you pretty quickly and he decided to quietly utter a spell that would ensure you a dreamless sleep.

Solomon didn’t fall asleep right away. He stayed up, thinking about you. How could he help you? If you thought it was hard to forge pacts with the brothers in the future, the past will be damn near impossible. They didn’t trust anyone except each other. But Solomon had faith, you had a history of doing the impossible.

He looked down at your resting figure, still holding tightly to him even in your sleep. You huffed, nuzzling your face into his shirt . He smiled, color rushing to his cheeks and he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You settled and he finally allowed his eyes to close, vowing with the last bit of consciousness he had that he would help you get back, no matter the cost.

- Fin-

[markberries]

take my hand ﹒ ml

synopsis﹕ when you and mark parted ways, you took forever to heal from it. when you see mark onstage again, you're not sure if you ever recovered in the first place.

genre + ﹕ huge amount of angst, fluff at the end (i promise), fem reader, exes to lovers, non idol!reader, idol!mark, best friends johnny + jaehyun

wc ﹕ 6.7k

warnings ﹕ cursing

you always believed in true love.

as cheesy and immature as it sounds, ever since you were in high school, you had felt like you would eventually meet ‘the one’. your mind was set on the idea that through thick and thin, your soulmate would never leave you.

well, you believed that up until you broke up with mark lee.

it all happened seven months ago, when a perfect relationship was ripped to shreds. you had been dating for just over a year when it occurred, and you truly believed that you were meant to be together. the twenty-two year old knew you like the back of his hand, and underneath his socially awkward self, was someone who just wanted to make you happy.

a kpop idol dating a regular, non celebrity individual, was difficult to say the least; it was hard to match up your schedules, but in the end, you two made it work. you never complained about him being too busy, and you often encouraged him to continue doing what he loved. that’s what made you two work so well, the ability to understand each other.

mark was never the type to lash out. in fact, you don’t think you have ever seen him angry before the incident. he would get frustrated, but never angry. and he never took it out on you. with two upcoming comebacks, you knew he would be stressed out, but you tried your best to help him out. you would bring food for all the members at practice, clean up the dorm, and you gave him as much love as possible.

he loved any form of skinship with you, he found it comforting during his difficult times — so you didn’t think twice when you went to go hug him when he came back to the dorm after practice. he opened the door, no one behind him as he seemingly came home early from work that day.

you smiled when you heard the sound of the lock turning, switching your phone off as you ran to the front door to greet him. he looked so exhausted when you finally caught a glimpse of his face. he took off his shoes and hung up his jacket, but as soon as he was finished, you wrapped your arms around him. this time was different. he didn’t even bother hugging you back, instead he basically shrugged you off and walked straight to the dining table.

you didn’t think much of it at the time, you just thought that he had been working too much the past few days so it was fine if he didn’t want to hug you. yes, you were taken aback at first, but you got over it. you followed him, watching him sit down in silence as he ate the food you cooked. 

“does it taste okay?” you asked, sitting down across from him. he replied with more silence, barely even sparing you a glance. that’s when you began suspecting something was wrong, and you weren’t sure if it was work or if it was something you did.

you decided not to say anything until he was finished eating, hoping that maybe he would actually respond to you with actual words when he was done. the time is filled with the sound of his chopsticks against his bowl and the car horns honking outside the dorm. 

you watched him swallow his last bite and get up to wash his bowl. you take this opportunity to speak again, questioning, “are you okay?”

“fine,” he answered, in almost a snappy tone. he put his now clean bowl back in the cupboard.

“are you sure?” at this point you were beginning to worry a bit more, thoughts raced through your mind, trying to pinpoint the source of his irregular unpleasantness.

“yeah, i said i’m fine.”

what a liar, you thought to yourself as he placed both of his hands on the edge of the counter.

“we both know that isn’t true,” you knew what was coming. although it was rare, you always had a feeling of when you two would argue.

“holy shit, how many times do i need to say it? i’m fine!” 

mark’s sudden outburst makes you flinch, and it made you wish that you had just left it alone the first time you asked. despite the volume change in his voice, you continued to speak.

“you know you can tell me anything.. that’s why we’re together.”

you realize your attempt to defuse the situation backfired on you when he turned to you, a nasty glare directed towards you upon his face.

“well maybe i don’t want to tell you everything, why can’t you leave me alone for one fucking second!” he fumed, moving his hands to emphasize his words.

in that moment, you’re scared. he had never yelled at you like that. you wouldn’t view yourself as a sensitive person, but it was mark. you were so afraid of disappointing him that having him raise his voice towards you made you feel like you did.

“d-did i do something wrong?” you managed to say quietly, which made him even more irritated than he already was.

“oh my god, you’re what’s wrong. i just wanted one day where i could come home and relax by myself, but here you are! you always think you’re playing the perfect girlfriend. well you’re wrong.”

you froze, choking back cries and holding back tears. you gripped at the hem of your shirt tightly, your knuckles becoming white, “i’m sorry. i didn’t realize that i was affecting you that much.”

he scoffs, clicking his tongue. “there’s a lot of things that you fail to realize.”

“if you truly feel that way, then maybe we shouldn’t be together at all,” although your reply seems argumentative, it's just you trying to make mark calm down. you’re trying to grasp at strings, you only said that statement in the heat of the moment. you knew, or at least you thought, mark wouldn’t end things just because of one argument.

“maybe we shouldn’t.”

your breathing stops for a single moment. you ask yourself, did i hear that right? but when you see the look on his face, you register that was exactly what he said. when that understanding hits, and it hits you hard, you can’t hold back your teardrops anymore. they fall from your eyes like rain, hitting the polished wooden floors.

you don’t say anything, you just stand up to gather your things and muster out a broken-hearted “okay.”

you feel pathetic seven months later for still thinking about him. he didn’t even bother contacting you after the incident, which makes you wonder how long he was actually thinking about breaking up with you.

of course the other members checked up on you a lot, but you somewhat drifted away from most of them. they always said you were always welcome to come over if mark wasn’t home, but you politely declined. you had been out with them a lot, but recently you have been trying to stay away.

the only people you talk to regularly were jaehyun and johnny, their company was always comforting and they never mentioned mark around you. whenever you hung around the dreamies they always tried to play matchmaker, making up reasons to get you and mark back together.

“should we order food or something?” johnny suggests as he lays on your black l-shaped couch. jaehyun is sitting on the ground, watching a random netflix movie intently with his feet under your coffee table.

“what do you feel like?” you ask, taking a seat next to jaehyun. 

they always came over, knowing well that you weren’t comfortable in the dorm anymore. you appreciate how they always keep in mind your feelings and thoughts when it came to mark, they never try to push your boundaries and they wouldn’t bother you about your love life.

“actually i heard about this really good pork katsu place,” jaehyun chimes, turning his head to look at johnny.

“sounds good to me,” you chime.

a sudden noise from johnny’s phone makes you look in his direction. his eyes widen for a split second, but he gets up to answer it right after.

“i’ll order it right after this call,” he says, walking to your hallway. you can’t help but bitterly smile, knowing it was mark. otherwise johnny would have answered it in front of you.

“i’m at her house right now.. yeah she’s doing good,” you hear his voice say to mark on the phone. cute, he was still checking up on you.

jaehyun is fast to try and switch your attention to him, asking, “is it okay if we sleepover today? just need a break from the others.”

“sure, we can watch movies and you guys can sleep on my couch,” you nod your head, diving your hand into a bowl of popcorn that sat on your coffee table.

the night was still young — the moonlight creeping in and shining in your dimly lit living room. the dialogue of the movie is intriguing, but not interesting enough to overlap your desire to hear johnny’s conversation with mark.

“just call her..”

your anxiety can’t help but shoot up when the idea of mark calling you after seven long and hard months after your separation. you were sure he stopped caring the day you walked out the door, or even before that. in your mind, if he truly didn’t mean what he said that night, he would have tried to make contact with you earlier.

“do you have blankets?” jaehyun piped, his head turning in your direction. 

“yeah one second, i’ll grab them!” you answer, standing up to get the faux wool sheets from your linen closet. almost right on time, johnny was just hanging up the phone when he saw you.

“you heard that?” he says to you, almost hoping you didn’t. you nod, although you haven’t completely healed from everything, you weren’t fragile. you could handle hearing mark’s name.

“don’t worry about it, he’s just being an idiot,” johnny consoles you. you shrug.

“it’s fine, he’s your friend! i get it,” you tell him, “but could you help me get the blankets and pillows from my closet?”

“of course.”

you reenter the living room with johnny, items for your sleepover in each other’s hands. jaehyun watches you two, specifically johnny as they exchange eye contact (probably due to his abrupt phone call).

you snicker, “you guys don’t have to baby me anymore. i swear i’m okay.”

“what do you mean? we aren’t babying you,” jaehyun clicks out of his movie, searching for a different one for the three of you to watch.

“you can talk about mark, c’mon you guys suck at hiding stuff,” you can’t help but laugh in your head. they could keep comebacks a secret for months but couldn’t keep quiet about one guy? you weren’t complaining, in reality you couldn’t blame them at all.

“sorry y/n,” jaehyun awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, and you pat his shoulder.

“don’t apologize! i’m okay, i promise,” you try to reassure them. by the looks on their faces, you can tell they still feel a bit bad. you quickly snatch the remote out of jaehyun’s hands, noticing that the glances between him and johnny was stopping him from deciding on a movie.

yes, the recovery for you after the separation was hard, and you understood why the two tall boys were wary about talking about him to you. after all, they pretty much had to watch you go through everything. not to mention how they also knew mark’s side of the story, which you chose not to ask about. 

in the end, you felt like you had grown from most of the hurt you were put through. sure, there were still some flashing memories and multiple instances where you would ask yourself what led up to that moment, but you usually brushed it off with no other questions.

let’s just say a lot of the damage had already been dealt with and worked through, so now you just want to focus on yourself and your friends. but you knew for sure that if mark came back and asked to be with you again, you would never hesitate on saying yes.

—

you stretch your arms out with a yawn, a blanket strewn across your figure that you don’t remember putting on. you tiredly rub at your eyes, sun rays shining nicely onto your floor. you found yourself on the couch, head nearly touching johnny’s as he scrolled on his phone.

he was lying the opposite direction as you, a pillow on his chest and his eyes flashed to yours.

“you’re finally awake,” he teases, a dumb grin on his face at the sight of your bed hair. a strong scent of fried eggs fills your nostrils, which makes you sit up and peek to your left. it’s jaehyun, placing plates of food proudly onto your white dining table. there’s a satisfactory smile on his face as he does so.

he catches sight of you, patting the table. “hungry?”

you get up from your spot on the couch as johnny does the same. all three of you take seats at the dining table, happily munching on the arrangement of eggs, toast, and hashbrowns. 

“should we do anything today?” you queried, covering your mouth with one hand as you chewed. you watch as your two friends exchange looks, like they both knew what to say.

“we have a performance later tonight.. we really want you to come and i’m sure the others would love to see you too. but of course we’ll respect your decision on whether or not you want to see it.”

they both await your response to jaehyun’s offer, almost nervous to see if you would react poorly. you love jaehyun and johnny, and you miss the rest of the boys too. you’re just unsure about how you would act after not seeing mark for so long. 

“what kind of performance is it?” you inquire, and you see jaehyun exhale in relief. “it’s a 127 performance stage, and you’re always welcome to visit us backstage right after the song.”

you’re worried that all the hard work you did to lessen the hurt from months before will all be ruined after seeing mark. but then again, you can’t really say you’re over him if you can’t stand seeing his face. this was your opportunity to face your fears and your past — something you’re well aware of that you have been avoiding.

“but then again, you can just leave right after-”

you cut jaehyun off with a sweet smile, “i’ll be there.”

—

“shit, fuck!” you exclaim to yourself after hitting your hand on your bed frame. when jaehyun and johnny had left your house to go practice before the performance, you had covered your face in horror when you realized exactly what you agreed to.

you threw outfits around your room, anxiously holding up different pieces up to your body while checking the mirror. you don’t know what came over you, a surge of confidence or maybe it had been you overestimating your ability to keep your composure.

who were you kidding? you would never be getting over mark. as strong as you crave to be, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if you were still together until this day.

there was way too much anxiety building up inside of you, constantly deciding if you should dress up nicely to show that you were fine without him, or just settling on sweatpants to make him think you didn’t care what he thought anymore.

your eyes are switching from both outfits rapidly, silently cursing yourself for getting into this situation in the first place. you throw your sweats on the ground, checking the time on your phone before putting on a brown skirt and white tshirt that suited your frame nicely. 

johnny and jaehyun were sweet enough to get early access for you, so you could beat all the other fans and not deal with the craziness of being stepped on while rushing into the venue. 

you threw on a cream oversized cardigan, slipping a brown bag over your shoulder, rushing to put your shoes on and get out of the door. of course your phone was blowing up, you knew that your two friends had told others in the 127 subunit about your sudden attendance.

donghyuck was going crazy, spamming you at every second saying he was so excited to see you again. his messages included questions of your arrival, plans after the show, and just random selfies and pictures of the other members. you would constantly smile at the goofy photos that he would take, and it made you less nervous to go to the venue.

the taxi ride on the way was quiet, with your mind full of possible scenarios that could occur and emotions that had a chance of erupting. clouds scattered around the blue sky, the sun shining brightly into the leather seated car. your hands are settled on your legs, eyes on the cars passing by. the driver sparks up small talk, probably in hopes of a generous tip as you respond with simple answers.

your heartbeat grows faster and louder when the building enters your line of sight. fans are already lining up, flashes of color from the adorable handmade signs that they clutched casually. you smile at a cute gigantic photo of jaehyun, directing the driver to a side entrance where you could enter quietly, and unseen.

you thank the driver, handing him cash before stepping out of the car. you look up at the building, putting a hand on your forehead to block out the sun. two bodyguards are placed at the entrance, standing intimidatingly as they stare at you. you reach into your bagt, taking out your phone to text jaehyun.

just then, the door opens. a man who you do not recognize has a headset on, a mask over his face as he motions for you to approach him. you quickly rush over to him, straightening out your outfit as the bodyguards make way for you to enter. 

once you set foot inside, it’s quite dark compared to the brightness of the daylight outside. the air conditioning is soothing and the faint sound of music fills your ears, probably from the stage itself. 

“hello,” you greet the man as soon as the door closes. he speaks into a walkie-talkie, before greeting you back. he ushers you to follow him, leading you to where you will be in the audience. he seems to be trying to move as quickly as possible, which is understandable.

he pushes open a door, revealing the stage and some of the members on it. he speaks to another worker briefly, before telling you to just stand in the front. you move awkwardly, watching as donghyuck and doyoung spoke to each other. they didn’t notice you in the dark, not until you reached the front of the stage.

their eyes shifted towards you, donghyuck’s eyes widening. 

“y/n!” he ran to you like a little kid, climbing down the stairs with a smile on his face. doyoung followed closely behind him, also happy to see you. 

before you’re able to react, hyuck is enveloping you in a huge hug, crushing you. he’s pretty much squealing while doyoung ruffles your hair. it had been months since you last saw them, saying you didn’t miss this would be a blatant lie. you happily wrap your arms around the boy, smiling back.

he pulls away, shaking your shoulders excitedly. “i can’t believe you’re here!”

“how have you been?” doyoung gushes.

“i’ve been good! i’m so glad i get to see you guys again, and i get to see you performing too!” you exclaim, a cheery look evident on your face when you admire the two. you take the time to soak in the venue, the scene set for the stage, the screens, and the countless number of cameras scattered about.

“you’re so cute y/n,” donghyuck coos, pinching your cheek. you squint in slight pain, rubbing your face after he let go. 

“i’m sure the others will be happy to see you after,” doyoung mentions. he turns to hyuck, who is still babying you and clinging onto your arm. you forgot how much he loved to smother you, and how much you craved seeing the others again. you were always close to the boys — you just seemed to easily get along with them and grow comfortable in their presence.

“we should prepare before the fans are let in, we don’t want our y/n getting in trouble,” doyoung reminds the younget, patting your shoulder. the corners of your lips lift at the gesture, nodding along.

“no scandals, please,” you say jokingly, making hyuck roll his eyes.

“can’t we talk just a little longer?” he practically begs. doyoung pushes him away before he can protest, saying, “we’ll see her after the performance!”

you wave them goodbye, watching the staff run across the stage and pointing them where to go. they walk offstage, the pit of nervousness in your stomach beginning to grow larger. 

right on time, the fans start pouring in, the chaos is relatively contained. a staff member was directing the fans who would be standing, while the people sitting in the upper sections found their seats on their own. lightsticks were basically in everyone’s hands, making you feel a bit guilty for not getting one for yourself. 

the talking grows louder as people start taking places next to you. you were right against the barricade, and you’re grateful that everyone was polite enough to not push against each other that much. some people have signs, some wearing cute headbands with a member’s name or face, and some with pickets.

“i’m so excited,” a fan says to you, catching you off guard. you forgot that people at concerts were usually friendly, but that’s what makes you love them so much. 

“me too,” you agree, which isn’t exactly the truth. you’re more uneasy than excited.

“who’s your bias?” she asks you, going on her tippy toes to see if she could catch a glimpse of a member offstage. 

you purse your lips, “hm, not sure. i like them all. what about you?” 

“definitely mark!” she beams happily, and you smile at her thrilled reaction. gosh, you always failed to remember how popular mark is with his fanbase. it makes sense, especially with the amount of talent he holds — and you can’t forget his attractiveness.

the screams grow louder as the lights begin to dim, shadows moving around the stage. the people surrounding you let out ear piercing screams, making your face scrunch up as you cover your ears for a moment. 

finally, the shadows stop moving. they create a formation, standing completely still. that’s when the onstage lighting is cued, revealing none other than nct 127. the fans are going wild, doyoung standing in the middle as he scans the crowd.

when the music begins to fade in, you can’t help but adjust to your environment and join in to cheer for your friends. your eyes shift to all of them, just so overjoyed to see their faces again. you have no idea who knows you’re here and who doesn’t, so you’re hoping to give them a pleasant surprise if they are able to spot you amongst the sea of people.

your face immediately drops when mark comes to the middle for the choreography. although it’s not in a bad way, it was just a habit of yours. you can’t help but fixate on him, his movements, his rapping, everything about him is just so mesmerizing. the girl next to you, who biases mark, sounds like she’s going through all five stages of grief when he does his part.

his dancing is so sharp and precise, yet there are so many levels of fluidity involved in it. his stage presence is amazing, keeping your eyes on him. it makes your stomach churn, hands gripping on the black metal barricade in front of you. you paid no attention to the fanchants being cheered in unison, only focusing on mark.

his eyes are going through everyone standing in the front row. he offers small smiles and facials to fit the song, and when his stare lands on you, he has to do a double take. you watch when his eyes flash to the next fan, only to go back to you. when he realizes that it’s you, his eyebrows furrowed together, making you a little embarrassed.

maybe you shouldn’t have come, because just watching him perform sparks up emotions that you buried deep down. for the entire dance, you can only keep your attention to mark. he would look somewhere else throughout the comeback stage, but often his gaze would return to you.

the audience space wasn’t huge, so the lighting was perfect to see everyone who stands right in front of the stage. that’s why you’re sure mark had seen you, because when the entire thing ends, he makes sure to take one last glance over to you before walking off with his members.

—

you’re left waiting in the audience once the performance ends, patiently lingering about as everyone leaves. you’re quite thankful that no one found it suspicious, as an article about you visiting the members backstage is the last thing you wanted. once the last of the fans exit the building, a staff member politely guides you to the members’ whereabouts.

you hear loud laughter and talking, being greeted with white hallways and doors. there are stylists and other employees packing their belongings, the sounds of makeup bags zipping open and closed fills your ears. you wave at those you recognize, offering small smiles to those you don’t. finally, you reach a half open door with a couple of the boys joking around with each other.

the person who was escorting you parted ways with you, and you make sure to thank them as well. you take a peek inside, seeing donghyuck, doyoung, johnny, and jaehyun. you smile to yourself, gripping your bag tighter. you knock softly on the door, poking your head through the doorway.

their heads cock towards your direction, all four of their faces relaxing when they realize that it’s you. 

“you’re back!” hyuck bubbles, running towards you once again. you’re half relieved that mark isn’t in the same room, but the other half is a mix of emotions that you aren’t quite sure of. 

before you know it, donghyuck is dragging you farther inside the room. johnny is lying down on the black leather couch, jaehyun propped up in a chair by the mirrors, while doyoung sits on the floor. 

“wow, you actually came,” johnny says, a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask playfully, glaring at him. 

“nothing!” 

“i missed you so much,” donghyuck exaggerates, unable to stop hugging you. he had always been the most clingy towards you, although in the past it had driven mark a little crazy, you didn’t mind at all. 

“me too!” a voice chimed in from behind you. you turn your head, spotting yuta from the door you originally entered from. he has a huge grin on his face, acting just like donghyuck as he skips happily to hug you.

“did you enjoy the performance?” jaehyun asks, pointing to the chair next to him, indicating to you to sit next to him. you let go of donghyuck and yuta, which they weren’t so happy about. you smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit, nodding your head.

“it was amazing! it’s been so long since i’ve gotten to see you guys live and i almost forgot how talented you guys are,” you praise. 

“we’re glad you liked it,” doyoung states, smiling. sitting around like this, around them, makes you reminisce on your past. all the dinners and hang outs, the visits to the dorm, the sleepovers, everything. you hope that everyday forward, you will be able to see them normally. they were quite literally your only friends you spent time with, and although you love johnny and jaehyun to death, you loved the others too.

“hey did you guys see my—”

your heart stops. you could recognize that voice from anywhere, even when you’re turned away from the entrance to the dressing room. the room falls silent, all eyes are on the person behind you. you turn your chair, only to be met with mark’s eyes. he’s standing still, already changed out of his stage outfit. you can see that the others are trying to find a way to lighten the mood or take the attention off you two, but no one says anything.

when donghyuck darts to leave the room, everyone follows him silently. the room is just left with the two of you, who are unable to say anything. all you do is look at each other, almost in disbelief. your face is heating up, with a strong urge to run away, hide. anything to get yourself away from here. mark’s lips are slightly parted, searching for the right words to say.

“i’m glad you came,” he blurts out, making you stare anywhere besides his brown orbs.

“oh,” you let out, “i didn’t think you would want to see me.”

your heart is shattering into a million pieces all over again, just by seeing his face. you’re reminded of what he said to you that night, how cruel he acted, the days you spent crying over the fact that you lost the love of your life.

“you look nice,” your head perks up, surprised to hear him say that. your heart thumps louder, legs pressed tightly together as the constant feeling of anxiousness begins to build up inside you once again.

“you too..”

“i-i wanted to talk to you actually,” mark manages to stutter out, his same old awkward self showing. “but not here though.”

you’re unsure of what is happening, questioning if this is even real, or if your mind is playing tricks on you.

“i’m not sure i’m comfortable with that.”

“please,” he basically pleads. his face has softened, eyes begging you to just hear what he has to say. it scares you so much, being sucked in like this again. he always had a way that made you melt into his hand, even if he was unaware of it. “i just want to talk about what happened..”

you were unsure if that was supposed to make you feel better. you didn’t know if you wanted to know what made him end your relationship, either way, you’re certain that it probably wouldn’t change anything. he would just be breaking your heart a little more.

“mark..” 

“it’s not what you think,” he says, and for a moment, you can see a glimpse of hope. the glimmer that you want to deny, but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you want to say yes so badly.

he can’t stop staring at you as you get lost deep in thought. you’re eyeing him, full of contemplation as you have an internal battle with your own self. if anything, he owes you. even if it’s as little as an explanation, you deserve it. 

you look to your hands again, which are sweating as they clasp together in your lap.

“okay.”

—

if someone had told you months ago, while you were recovering from the breakup, that you would be sitting in mark lee’s car months later, you would have laughed in their face. but as ironic as it sounds, here you were; overthinking every movement, sitting in quietness, incapable of speaking a single word to each other.

the radio isn’t on, the only sound is the engine and the passing cars that drove beside you. at times, you would find yourself glimpsing at his face, catching sight of him and how he still looked amazing.

you would quickly look back towards the window though, in fear of being caught. as much as you dreamt about this moment, you were still so scared. you didn’t want to have to go through what happened in the past twice.

you didn’t think of yourself as frail, in fact you believed you were someone who stood their ground. but when it came to mark, you could never say no. you classified it as a bad habit that you thought you got over, but your current situation proved to you that the habit still existed.

“we’re here,” mark breathes, placing the gear in park. he unbuckles his seatbelt, looking towards you. you’re nervous, but meet his eyes.

“are you okay?” he asks with concern. at this point, you don’t know what being okay means anymore. you had spent so much time in the past, convincing yourself that you were okay. but as you sit, next to the boy who you thought was your everything, you can’t tell if you had ever been okay in the first place.

“i think so,” you can’t help but mutter out in a small voice. he nods his head once, as you undo your own seatbelt as well. you both get out of the car at the same time, and you can’t lie that you’re taken aback when you realize he had parked right by a park, with a view of the water.

“why are we here?” you sound more irritated than you intended, causing mark to run a hand through his brown locks.

“so we could talk..”

“i didn’t think you would bring me someplace like this,” you reply back. although you’re a little confused, you follow mark to a picnic table that he guides you to.

you sit across from mark, hands placed on your thighs nervously. he’s looking at you the entire time, almost as if he’s studying your every movement.

“what is it?” you finally bring up. you needed to know why mark brought you here, and what this meant to him. 

“is it okay if i explain myself?”

your heart basically sinks to your stomach. of course this is all he wanted, a chance to tell you the reasoning behind his decisions. you’re upset at yourself for making yourself vulnerable once again; putting your heart on your sleeve for mark to crush not once, but twice. 

your legs are trembling under the table, your lip quivering ever so slightly. it isn’t noticeable to mark, and you’re praying that he doesn’t see your shakiness as you prepare yourself for his story. your posture isn’t the best, slightly hunched over only to relieve yourself of the intolerable twists your stomach was making. you nod your head, waiting for him to begin.

he takes a deep breath first, placing his hands on the table, “i’m going to begin with the obvious, the way i treated you wasn’t cool of me. as your boyfriend at the time, i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“okay,” is the only response you give.

“i fucked up badly. i’ll never forget what i said that night, and i’m sure you haven’t either. you were around me all the time, just taking care of me in general and making sure that i was healthy and going above and beyond. i didn’t deserve you. i just thought you were being clingy, and this isn’t an excuse but work was so stressful that i decided to mess up the one thing that kept me going.”

you’re beginning to zone out, processing his words. what was he trying to say? you’re so lost, numb almost, still in a wave of shock. your eyebrows are scrunched together, staring at his hands.

“when i brought it up with the other guys, they told me i wouldn’t realize what i lost until it was gone. until you were gone, and to be frank, they were right,” he places his elbows on the table, using both of his hands to hold either sides of his head.

“mark-”

“that’s not all i did wrong, i know. i didn’t even check up on you directly because i was so frustrated with what i did, i couldn’t face the shame. during the time we dated, i was always so caught up in my own business that i barely did anything for you, and i knew you would find someone better. someone who would treat you the way you’re meant to be treated, and i wasn’t ready to hear about that. but now i’m ready to face it, and i don’t have the right to ask you to forgive me, but i just need you to know how truly sorry i am.”

you don’t comprehend that mark is crying until his tears are dripping onto the paint chipped table. he looks at you with watery eyes, making you want to cry in return.

“you hurt me so badly,” you sniffle, wiping a tear from your face with your sleeve. he takes the chance to take your hand, holding it like he’s afraid to let go.

“i know i did, fuck, i’m so damn sorry,” he acknowledges, sucking in his bottom lip. “you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i just needed to tell you that. i would never forgive myself if i didn’t, because everything i said to you when i was angry meant absolutely nothing. i don’t want this to affect you any longer, i don’t want you thinking you did anything wrong. you were, i mean are perfect.”

your fingers are intertwined so tightly, puffy eyes staring at each other. he gets up so swiftly, sitting next to you as he engulfs you in a secure hug. he buries his head in the crook of your neck while you grip at his sleeves. 

“one more,” you whisper to him. he backs his head away, eyes red as he smiles sadly. he leans forward towards your lips, placing them on yours with shut eyes.

it’s full of passion, but not heat filled passion. it’s like you’re both trying to fill the holes in your heart that mark had created in the first place, mending your hearts back into one. it’s one of the things you missed most, being able to feel this again. the feeling of being safe in his arms, like there’s a whole world out there, but in the moment, the only things that mattered was you two.

everything that you suppressed is flowing back with one kiss, a kiss that you had been thinking about for quite a long time. he tucks your hair behind your ears as he pulls you closer, never wanting to stop. you both just want to live together, here in this very point in time.

he pulls away, wiping the tears from your eyes with his hand.

“mark,” you sigh, taking ahold of his face with both of your hands.

“i know,” he nods. “but you said one more.”

you smile at him, pecking his lips again. his eyes widen in surprise.

“i meant one more chance.”

his mouth opens, staring at you in disbelief. when he hears you say that, he can’t help but kiss every part of your face. by now, both of your teardrops had been turned into those of contentment.

“i will never hurt you like that again, and that’s a promise,” he states, “and i never intend to break it.”

you both rest your foreheads against each other, still so full of happiness to finally be brought back together. you hope mark is being truthful, because you know you can’t go through all of that pain again. but with that look on mark’s face, your trust starts to slowly build up again. paired with his apology, you know that he meant what he said.

you know that you found your best friend and the person you want to be with forever, especially when you watch the sunset together, just enjoying each others’ company. you’re sure that things will not end up like last time, and you’re certain that everything between you would be alright.

and from that point forward — it is.

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — 00. prologue

previous | next

You were never the type to believe in superstitions.

But as you stared at the document you had open, completely blank (excluding your name) with the cursor blinking, as if mocking you, you started to seriously consider Minji’s suggestion.

(“Bro, you will not believe what happened to me today.”

“I’m not sure if I want to know,” you said, noisily slurping up your instant noodles.

“No, trust me, you do. So yesterday, I saw this post on Twitter that said if you write down a wish on a piece of paper three times, put it under your pillow, and then recite that wish at exactly 11:11, it’ll come true.”

You barely flinched as she slammed the table.

“I wished for a hundred bucks. And guess what?” She grinned smugly as she waved a bill in your face. “I found this lying on the floor before class.”

“So what?” You shrugged. “It’s just a lucky coincidence.”

“No, bro,” she whined. “It’s real. You should try it. Get yourself a girlfriend or something, you’re so grumpy all the time.”

“Even if it is true,” you glared at Minji as she reached over to eat some of your noodles. “Why would you wish for only a hundred bucks? You should’ve asked for a million dollars or something, dumbass.”

“I didn’t know it was real until today,” she puffed her cheeks, then proceeded to slam her head on the table. “I probably wasted my one wish.”

She looked up after a minute and pouted. “Can you please wish for it?”

“Find someone else to do it,” you waved your hand dismissively, making your way back to your room. “Enjoy the noodles, you scab. I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Your loss!” She called out, mouth full of (your) noodles. “I’m the one a hundred bucks richer.”)

You slumped back in your chair in defeat, running your fingers through your hair.

I’m running on two hours of sleep, and I’m never gonna finish this essay anyway. What do I have to lose?

You ripped a piece of scrap from the DoorDash takeaway bag sitting on your desk. Uncapping a pen with your teeth, you thought about what to write.

What the hell do I wish for? My essay to magically write itself? Nah, that’d be a waste of a wish.

After a few minutes of pondering, you messily scribbled three lines: ‘I want to be happy. I want to be happy. I want to be happy.’

You glanced at your laptop. Huh, it’s 11pm. Perfect timing.

You slid the note under your pillow and flopped onto your bed, scrolling through TikTok to pass the time.

As soon as the clock hit 11:11, you sat up.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

You sighed, scratching your head before saying,

“I want to be happy.”

Your breath hitched in anticipation.

“...”

To no one’s surprise, absolutely nothing happened. You scoffed, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your face in frustration.

Of course nothing would happen. Why did I think it would work?

You shut your eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over you. Whatever happens to that essay is up to God now.

You lay still for a few minutes, eventually tossing and turning as you tried to sleep. But all you could think about was the stupid essay. You groaned as you sat up again, grabbing your laptop.

“Fuck uni.”

At least this is my last assignment before the break.

You ended up staying up all the way to five in the morning, downing an ungodly amount of energy drinks in a desperate attempt to finish off the essay.

You woke up to the sound of I Like to Move It from Madagascar blasting in your ear.

(Minji thought it would be funny to change your alarm ringtone to it, and you never bothered to change it back.)

You groaned, flipping over to check your phone to see no new notifications. You stared vacantly at your ceiling as you contemplated your life choices.

I got one hour of sleep. Why do 7am classes exist? Whoever came up with that idea should be tried for crimes against humanity.

Eyes half open, you shuffled your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth, passing Minji’s room on the way. Her door was left ajar and she was nowhere to be seen. I’ll never understand how she wakes up every morning to go on a run.

Just as you were about to enter the bathroom, you noticed a girl in your living room. She was focused on a bookshelf, a curious expression on her face.

Who the fuck is that?

You rubbed your eyes and squinted. She was still standing there, running her fingers along the spines of the books.

I must be seriously sleep-deprived if I’m hallucinating a very pretty girl. Yeah, no, not doing this today. It’s the last class of the semester anyway. That 7am class can shove a stick up its ass.

You briskly walked back to your room and face-planted on your bed, instantly knocking out.

previous | next