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#and I don’t know what class I would take
midday-clouds · 3 days
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Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II
Part I
Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!
CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood
You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven
Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax
You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out
It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there
Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible
It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.
But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.
Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?
A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing
You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 
The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 
But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.
It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.
Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 
He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.
Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook
Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 
You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 
But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.
With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 
It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows
Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 
No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.
Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.
The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.
Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your
Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you
You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.
You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path
Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.
Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.
You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 
Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.
Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night
Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again
The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.
Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well
The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea
You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 
Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there
Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least
Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say
Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.
Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags
Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.
It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.
Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you
Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven
You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home
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eddiethebrave · 2 days
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secret admirer part twenty-two
759 words
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Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H
You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?
Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 
It only makes him think, though. 
Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?
What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 
On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 
The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 
For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 
The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 
Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 
Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 
Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 
It’s a drawing. 
A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 
Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 
Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 
Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 
Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H
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vnti-vntiety-recs · 2 days
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Baby, I'm a rockstar (M)
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★  PAIRING: Mark x Reader
☆ WORD COUNT: 12k
★ GENRE(S): Band! AU, Exes to lovers, Angst, smut, fluff
☆ SUMMARY: After your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his music career, you devise a scheme to get back at him by attending his band’s open auditions. To both your surprises, you end up joining the band. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity for some well-deserved revenge.
★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, cigarettes, alcohol 
☆★ NOTES: Its crazy to think this is my first Mark fic, i hope you all enjoy cause boy is it a ride. 
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Things were changing: the seasons shifting, the academic year progressing, friendships evolving. Change was a constant force, often leaving you breathless, but in the midst of it all, there was Mark—your anchor, your unwavering constant. You thought your relationship would never change, that it would always be a fixture in your life. You believed you and he would last forever
Until you didn’t.
You gave your friends a quick wave as you headed toward the familiar black hatchback. You often teased Mark about it, calling it his "mom car," and he’d laugh it off, insisting it was just right for all his gear.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you felt that familiar rush of comfort wash over you. You leaned over and planted a quick peck on his cheek. “Hey babe,” you call out.
Mark looks a little stiff, offering a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, how was class?” he asks shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.
“It was good! Do you have anything planned later?” you ask, trying to gauge if he's up for hanging out.
“Um, yeah, no… I’m meeting up with the guys, I think,” he replies after a pause.
You watch him, your gaze fixed on his side profile as he focuses on the road. Something feels off. Normally, Mark would be all over you—his hand would be wrapped around yours, and at the red light, he’d lean over to pepper your face in kisses. But today, there's none of that. Just an uneasy silence hanging between you like a thick fog.
The light turns green, and he accelerates, leaving you with a curious pit in your stomach. "Is everything okay?" you ask, trying to break the tension.
“Yeah, of course,” he says a little too quickly, his gaze still locked on the road ahead. But you can sense there’s something he’s not saying, and it gnaws at you.
“Hmm,” you respond softly, a quiet acknowledgment that feels heavy in the air. The rest of the ride passes in silence, an uncomfortable hush that wraps around you both.
When Mark parks in your driveway, you step out of the car, ready to shake off the tension. But instead of following you inside, he leans against the car and pulls out a cigarette. He still hasn’t looked at you.
“Are you not coming in?” you ask, a hint of confusion creeping into your voice. He knows he’s not allowed to smoke inside, so it feels frustrating that he’s choosing to linger outside like this. You just wanted to curl up with him for a little after a long day, let the warmth of his presence wash away the weight of your worries.
He takes a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifts lazily into the evening air. “I just need a minute,” he replies, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the driveway.
Your heart sinks a little. “A minute?” you whisper to yourself, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. You want to push him to come in, to bridge the growing distance between you. Instead, you stand there for a moment, hesitant on the threshold of your own home, unsure of what to do next.
“We should break up,” he says after blowing a billowing cloud of smoke into the air, his voice flat.
You want to laugh, a harsh, incredulous sound that seems so out of place. This has to be some kind of joke, right? But the way he's been acting leaves you fumbling for certainty. You take a hesitant step towards him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Mark? What are you talking about?” you say, your throat tightening painfully.
“I don’t have time for a relationship. I need to focus on my music. We’re starting to take off, and it’s getting more demanding. It wouldn’t be right to drag you along,” he explains, finally meeting your gaze. The way he looks at you is so pitiful it makes your blood boil, filling you with a blend of anger and heartbreak.
“You fucking asshole,” you sneer, fury clashing with the sadness pooling in your chest. Every emotion you’ve been holding back erupts in that moment. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! HOW COULD YOU!” you cry out in anguish, your voice wavering.
Mark takes a step toward you, his hand instinctively outstretched in a gesture of comfort. But you take a step back, needing to distance yourself from him, from the whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Your heart races as the world around you seems to spin.
Without another word, you turn and rush inside, tears threatening to spill over, rage and sorrow colliding in a chaotic storm within you. You close the door behind you, leaning against it, trying to catch your breath. You can’t bear to look back at him.
You hated Mark Lee’s guts.
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Your phone buzzes with a notification—open auditions for a lead vocalist.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Mark’s band to seek a replacement so soon. Although you unfollowed Mark ages ago and deleted all your posts together, you must have neglected to unfollow the band’s page. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice, a reluctance to sever the last connection to Mark. Regardless, you can't help but admit that you still find yourself stalking the page from time to time.
You remember their recent post announcing the departure of their lead singer, and for a moment, the temptation rises to text Mark, taunting him with a message like, "Haha, the thing you left me for bites you in the ass," but you hold back. Still, you can't shake the feeling, and as you scroll through the band’s photos, anger bubbles within you; this band—the very reason he chose to leave—seemed incapable of holding itself together. In a burst of impulse, you grab your jacket and keys, not fully aware of why you feel compelled to go.
As you pull up, the screech of mic feedback cuts through the air, causing you to wince as you approach the commotion. Peeking inside the garage, you spot a small crowd gathered around the center of the garage. Behind the microphone, someone stands, belting out a song you don’t recognize. Judging by the expressions of the band members, it’s evident that this person is struggling to find the rhythm.
You scan the crowd, but there's no sign of Mark, and the unfamiliar vocalist finishes just as your eyes land back on them, leaving the mic open.
"Anyone else wanna give it a shot?" Renjun, one of Mark’s bandmates, calls out. This prompts a wave of glances around the room; it seems everyone else has already had their turn. Suddenly, the attention shifts to you—the unexpected newcomer.
Renjun's eyes widen when he recognizes you, and you realize you have only moments before he runs to tell Mark you're here. Determined, you step up to the mic and introduce yourself, quickly glancing at the drummer, Jaemin. You whisper the song you want to sing, and he nods, finding the beat. As your voice fills the garage, your hands tremble around the mic, the nerves washing over you—you had just wanted to see Mark and maybe annoy him a little, but now you find yourself standing here, uncertain of what you're even doing.
As your final note hangs in the air, a few scattered claps emerge, and when you look up, Mark’s piercing glare meets yours. Once the performance wraps up, and before Mark can get his hands on you, the band members gather inside to discuss. Engaging in conversation with another girl while sipping refreshments from a cooler, you find yourself anticipating what the outcome of the meeting will be. You try not to feel ridiculous for sticking around, you doubt they will choose you but you're secretly hoping to rile Mark up a bit more afterwards.
When the trio of Renjun, Jaemin, and Mark steps out, isn't until now that you realize Jeno had been missing today. Your heart races with curiosity.
"We have decided we want to move forward with Y/N," Renjun announces, and as applause breaks out from the other participants, the girl beside you gives an excited thumbs-up.
Initially stunned by the announcement, a rush of satisfaction fills you when you notice the look on Mark's face—his expression is a mix of annoyance and frustration. Its clear as day that he did not want you to join. You’re full of pure joy, knowing that your presence is likely to ruffle his feathers a bit.
"Nice to meet you, I'm—" Renjun begins, but is abruptly interrupted as Mark rushes past him, grasping your wrist with urgency.
"Sorry, I just need to talk to her for a moment," he says, tugging you into the house. The door closes behind you, drowning out the sounds of the others. As he finally turns to face you, he looks bewildered, as if grappling with thoughts he cannot fully articulate.
"What are you doing here?" he questions, brows furrowed.
“I heard about the audition, obviously,” you reply, grinning.
“The joke’s over, okay? You can go home now,” Mark says. “I know you're only joining to get back at me!”
“Hmm, not quite. I'm also joining to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Where is he by the way?"
Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”
You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”
His face twists up, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he's lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.
“You're childish and you're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “ I'm sure your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”
“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.
“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”
For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.
“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out, heading back to the garage.
Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.
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You step into the garage, trying to portray an air of confidence even though you feel anything but. You probably should have let it go by now, telling them to pick a different vocalist because you had successfully gotten what you came here for but a part of you still wants to annoy Mark.
It’s the same place where the auditions went down, and while you’re familiar with Jaemin, you've never actually been to his house before then. It’s massive, which makes you wonder why some rich kid is wasting his time with an indie band. You already know all of Mark’s bandmates, but it’s just casual acquaintance stuff.
The garage was spacious with two big doors, and string lights draped across the ceiling, casting a cozy glow as twilight settled in. You clear your throat to announce your presence, and in the far corner, you catch a glimpse of Mark, totally engrossed in tuning his guitar. All you can see is the top of his head as he bends over, adjusting the pegs and strumming an experimental note. He looks so cool, completely in his element, and you can’t help but admire his passion for music. But before your thoughts drift into those bittersweet memories of him writing songs for you and strumming gentle tunes to help you drift off, you're jolted back to the reality that it was that same love for music that pulled him away from you.
Renjun was busy connecting his keyboard and tapping out a few notes, while Jaemin lounged in the back behind his drum set, chuckling at whatever video had caught his attention on his phone. No one seemed to notice you, and it made it tough to muster up any confidence with all their attention elsewhere. Just as you were feeling a bit invisible, Jeno strolled up beside you, holding his bass and grinning brightly.
“Hey, glad you could make it! Mark never told us you could sing,” he said, nudging your shoulder playfully before pulling you into a friendly hug.
You were more familiar with Jeno since he went to the same high school as you and Mark, and even though he was closer to Mark, you’d hung out enough to consider him a friend too.
“Jeno, hey!” you reply, returning his warm hug. Mark finally glances up at the sound of your voice and his expression shifts, hardening as his eyes land on you.
Renjun quickly approaches with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in. I’m so glad you could make it.” he says, exuding friendliness.
Meanwhile, Jaemin glances up from his phone, his demeanor indifferent as he remains seated, not offering much acknowledgment. Your gaze shifts back to Mark, who stands from where he was perched but hesitates, unsure if he should come closer or keep his distance, the tension thickening the air between you.
“We’re gonna get started as soon as Jeno sets up,” Renjun announces with enthusiasm. “I can show you around Jaemin’s house. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been here before.”
You nod. “Yeah, I need to use the bathroom before we start,” you reply, lying a bit to buy yourself some time to gather your thoughts.
Grateful for his friendliness, you let him guide you through Jaemin’s impressively large home. His adorable rambling brings a small smile to your face. When you finally reach the bathroom, he asks if you need help finding your way back and you shake your head. “We’ll be waiting in the garage,” he says before turning to leave.
Closing the door softly behind you, you splash some cool water on your face, trying to cool down from the warmth outside and the feelings brewing within you. While you wish you could suppress your feelings of animosity, seeing Mark again stirs something deeper. You channel that negative energy back into focus; you were here for one reason—to ensure Mark Lee paid for what he’d done.
You came back out refreshed, and to your surprise, the rehearsal went a lot smoother than you had anticipated. Renjun was particularly helpful, guiding you through the melody and key of the song as you practiced with the group. His enthusiasm made it easier for you to focus, and together, you worked through complex sections, laughing at the occasional off-pitch note or missed cue.
As the hours passed, you found yourself relaxing and joking around with Jeno and Renjun; their playful banter made the atmosphere feel lively and fun. Jeno, with his infectious sense of humor, cracked jokes that had everyone in stitches, while Renjun chimed in with witty commentary that kept the mood light. Despite Jaemin’s reserved nature, you found comfort in his quiet presence, appreciating the way he seemed to absorb the energy around him without needing to contribute much verbally.
However, Mark remained distant, effortlessly chatting with everyone while giving you the cold shoulder. He kept conversation with you brief and to a minimum. His laughter echoed through the garage, and while it should have made you feel at ease, it only intensified the tension that simmered beneath the surface. You focused on the music and tried to push aside your thoughts about him.
“Wanna go ahead and wrap up?” Jeno asks the group, eliciting sounds of agreement that weave through the garage as members start packing up.
You stand off to the side, feeling a bit out of place since you didn’t know how to help. Trying to be useful, you awkwardly approach the microphone and its stand, glancing around for a spot to place them.
“Where does this go?” you finally muster up the courage to ask Mark, your voice cutting through the uneasy strain between you two since the audition. The memory of his harsh words after that day rushes back, making your stomach churn as he takes the equipment from you without a word, setting it aside with a silence that feels heavy.
Just as the tension begins to settle, Jeno calls you over, his bright energy pulling you back into the moment. “Wanna grab something to eat after this?” He asks.
You take a moment to admire his long hair that frames his face, the dark eyeliner accentuating his eyes, and the way his fitted black shirt showcases the muscles in his arms. Your thoughts stray as you realize you’ve taken too long to respond, his brow quirking up in a teasing manner that makes you flush. “Yea— Yea, I’m free,” you finally reply.
“Anyone else down?” Jeno shifts his bass over his shoulder, glancing around the group.
“Nah, I’m hanging back to game with Jaemin,” Renjun calls out casually, leaving just the three of you.
“Mark?” Jeno asks, turning his attention to him. You catch a flicker in Mark’s eyes—an unmistakable mix of reluctance and jealousy. It’s clear he doesn't really want to go, but even more than that, he’s uncomfortable with the idea of you and Jeno being left alone together. A wicked smile creeps onto your lips as you silently revel in the unfolding dynamic, enjoying the tension in the air.
“Yea, I’ll probably just get a fry or something,” Mark mumbles.
Jaemin and Renjun head inside while you and Mark climb into Jeno's pickup truck, settling into the front seat and leaving Mark to sit in the back. The ride is filled with laughter as you catch up with Jeno, his jokes echoing through the cabin, but when you glance in the rearview mirror, you notice Mark’s jaw tightening in annoyance.
Upon arriving at the small diner, you head inside and take a seat next to Jeno, leaving Mark to sit alone on the opposite side of the table. As the waiter approaches with menus, you dismiss yours and share Jeno’s, animatedly discussing what to eat. You “accidently” kick Mark under the table, looking up at him with an insincere apology.
As the waiter takes your order, the table engages in light conversation. When you mention the cat you recently adopted, Jeno laughs and shares that he has a cat allergy.
“But didn’t you have a cat in high school?” you remind him, prompting him to share some adorable stories about his old cat.
You pull out your phone just as Jeno and Mark launch into a discussion about guitars, and you quickly text Mark,
Are we just going to keep ignoring each other?
You’re surprised you hadn’t deleted his number yet. He chuckles at something Jeno says, but when his phone lights up, you see him check it. He doesn't reply and faces his phone down, prompting you to roll your eyes.
When your food arrives, you all enjoy it. After eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to wash off the ketchup and salt from your fingers. Just as you finish in the single-stall restroom and open the door, you find Mark leaning against the opposite wall. He catches sight of you and, without a word, pushes you back inside, shutting the door behind you and pinning you against it.
“You wanted to talk to me, right? Well, here I am,” he says under his breath, trying to maintain his cool. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks.
“I was using the bathroom,” you reply, rolling your eyes, which only frustrates him further.
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re mad at me, so you’re making it your life mission to get on my nerves.”
“Why would me going out to eat with Jeno bother you?” you counter, tilting your head in faux confusion.
“Because you’re our singer now, and if you and Jeno get mixed up, it might cause unnecessary drama.”
“Right, and not because I’m your ex, and you clearly still think you have some kind of dumb possessive claim over me,” you shoot back.
Mark pushes himself off the door with a huff. "We,” he says, motioning between the two of you, “are not a problem. I don’t care what you do with Jeno. I’m just worried about our band.”
This band could burn for all you cared. You hated the softness that crept into his voice when he talked about his stupid band.
“If you came in here to try to convince me to quit again, you can leave now because I’m not going anywhere. Not everything is about you, Mark. I have my own reasons for joining the band.” You turn to adjust your appearance in the mirror, catching his eyes through the reflection as he steps up behind you, holding your gaze.
“If you think you’re going to win whatever little game you’re playing, you’re wrong,” he says before storming out. After a few moments, you follow him outside. Glancing through the diner's wide glass-pane windows, you see Jeno already waiting in his car as Mark hops in, taking the shotgun seat. The bell chimes as you step out the door, and you jump into the back of Jeno’s pickup truck.
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“So, are you gonna quit?” your friend Jungwoo asks.
“I mean eventually. I’m sure they could easily find someone to replace me; I’m not even that good,” you explain, catching your friends up on the Mark drama.
“Waste his time like he wasted yours,” Jennie shrugs.
You were in the campus library working on classwork when you spotted them. They had pulled up some chairs and before you knew it you had put your classwork to the side and started gossiping.
“I mean, yeah, but I still feel a little bad for his members; they’re really cool.” You say.
“Guilty by association,” Jennie rolls her eyes.
“Speaking of band members, are you really gonna sleep with Jeno?” Jungwoo asks.
“I was just talking shit, but he’s been looking really good recently. Like, really good.” You laugh just as your phone rings. Looking down at the caller ID, you see Mark's name flashing.
You’re confused until you glance at the corner of the screen and notice the time—you’re an hour late to practice. You had planned to be a little late today, maybe like fifteen minutes just to irk him, but this was too much.
“Shit, I’m late! He’s going to kill me,” you scramble to gather your things.
Sure, you’re upset with Mark, but it doesn’t feel right to make the others wait hours for you. You answer his second call as you exit the library and head to your car.
“Where are you?” Mark’s icy tone sends a chill down your spine.
“I lost track of time. I’m on the way,” you respond.
“Just hurry up,” he replies, and you can hear his frustration.
You arrive in a flurry, apologizing profusely as you enter the garage. Everyone is already set up and practicing; thankfully, they seem unfazed by your tardiness. Mark looks annoyed but his face is always like that lately. Feeling the tension in your own chest ease a little, you prepare for practice.
You approach Renjun during a break. He flashes a welcoming smile and invites you to sit beside him at the keyboard. “Want to learn something new?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.
He guides your fingers over the keys, patiently explaining the simple notes of Mary Had a Little Lamb. You laugh with him as you fumble through the melody but his encouragement keeps you motivated.
While you’re engrossed in the lesson, Jeno returns from the bathroom, a playful grin on his face. “What’s going on over here? Teaching her the basics, Renjun?” He joins in, teasing you about your lack of musical skills on the keyboard.
Later, as practice wraps up, Jaemin eagerly insists that you check out the photos he took of his cats on his phone, showcasing their hilarious antics. You can't help but smile; getting to know him has revealed just how interesting and quirky he truly is.
Practice is over and you gather your stuff and head to your car. You’re about to pull off when you hear a tap on the glass. You roll down the window to see Mark standing there, and you can’t help but feel annoyed; he only seems to speak to you when no one else was around. It was no secret that you two used to date.
“I do not need a lecture, Mark. I just want to go home.”
“If you’re going to be late, just call,” he replies, prompting you to roll your eyes.
“What did I just say?” You argue, not wanting to hear the rest.
“I was nervous when you didn’t pick up. I thought something had happened.” A concerned look crossing his face.
“Yes, sir. Now can I go?” You refused to apologize again.
Without warning, Mark leans in, gently squeezing your face. “Be on time,” he warns, his gaze daring you to talk back.
You hated that he knew your weaknesses, and as you nodded your head obediently, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The drive home felt longer than usual as you willed your heart to calm down, replaying the way he had looked at you with authority. Each beat echoed in your chest, and despite your frustration with him, you couldn’t shake the flicker of warmth that accompanied your thoughts of Mark.
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From that day forward, you were never late to another practice, but you found other sneaky ways to annoy Mark. Your main tactic became shamelessly flirting with Jeno, who, unbeknownst to him, was the perfect partner in crime for teasing Mark. Whether it was sharing inside jokes or playfully bumping shoulders, every moment spent with Jeno set Mark's expression to irritation. You reveled in the way Mark's brow would furrow and his jaw would tense, all while you enjoyed the easy camaraderie with Jeno, blissfully unaware of the storm you were brewing. While you did continue to press his buttons there were times when you would find yourself laughing together and enjoying easy conversation. But more times than not, you were bumping heads.
You had invited Jeno over to watch a movie, and now, curled up under the covers, your limbs tangled together felt both thrilling and comforting.
As your time together increased, so did the closeness between you two; nights spent cuddling became an unspoken tradition, sharing warmth and soft laughter. Though you hadn’t crossed the line into sex, you had participated in some heavy make out sessions that had ignited an undeniable chemistry between you. Yet, a part of you recognized the boundary he maintained, an unspoken agreement likely influenced by Mark's presence in both your lives.
As Jeno's hands began to wander, the tension in the room shifted dramatically; his cold fingers sent shivers racing up your spine as they slipped beneath your shirt, making you acutely aware of every sensation. When he leaned down to kiss you, you melted into the moment, returning his kiss with fervor as you moved to straddle his waist. Looking down at him from your elevated position, you couldn't help but smile at the warmth in his eyes. But your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling your attention away. You reached for it, settling back against Jenos lap, making him groan, a sound that only added to the heat of the moment.
“What is it?” he asks, his hands caressing your thighs as he waits for you to return to him.
Mark had texted you: Hey, is my old electric guitar still in your closet?
“It’s nothing,” you say, quickly closing your phone.
Leaning back down, you rejoin your lips, grinding against him and drawing out quiet moans. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as you both chase the little pleasure you’ve allowed yourselves. The bed creaks as he shifts you under him, reconnecting your mouths in a slow, needy kiss. Your hands grip his shoulders, softly calling his name as your legs wind around his waist, feeling the delicious friction from the fabric of your pajama pants as he grinds into you. He kisses you deeper, biting your lips with a groan while your hands wander, slipping under his shirt and igniting a fire within you both.
He peppers your lips with a few longing kisses before planting one last, reluctant kiss before pulling away. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he calls out as he gets up.
While you wait for him to return, you pick up your phone and start to text Mark, planning to let him know you'll bring his guitar to the next practice. But as you tap the screen, you realize you’ve accidentally started a FaceTime call with him.
On the screen, you see Mark saying something, but you can’t hear his voice due to your volume being down. He looks visibly upset, and you have a sneaking suspicion that he heard everything and knows you were making out with Jeno. Whatever he’s saying isn’t very nice, so you quickly end the call before Jeno come back.
Shortly after, Jeno returns, and you both settle back into the movie night as if nothing had happened.
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If things seemed to be getting better with Mark, after that incident, everything was back to square one. It truly was an honest mistake, and you don’t regret it one bit, even if the backstage atmosphere is thick with tension. Today, Mark was giving everyone the cold shoulder while you prepared for your first gig together. You were already nervous, and his attitude definitely wasn’t helping!
Jeno tries to lift the group's spirits with a brief but heartfelt speech, encouraging everyone to have fun and enjoy the moment before you all head on stage. You hum the melody and sing the lyrics of a few songs under your breath, trying to engrain them in your memory. But when you finally step onto the stage and are met with a sea of eager faces in the crowd, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, and you nearly freeze in place. The bright stage lights blind you momentarily, and despite the pulsating energy around you, all you can focus on is the crushing weight of silence as you realize you missed your cue. As the lead singer, you were supposed to introduce the band and set the tone for the night, but instead, you stand there awkwardly, heart racing, grappling with sudden performance jitters.
What had you gotten yourself into?
Just as panic threatened to consume you, Mark stepped in smoothly, grabbing the mic with a confident smile. "We are Limitless, and we hope you enjoy our music tonight!" His voice rang out, energizing the crowd and breaking the tension that had settled over you.
Jaemin laid down a steady beat on his drums, and the music surged to life, pushing you into the rhythm. You made it through the first half of your set without any major hiccups, and with each song, you felt your confidence swell. By the second half, you were fully engaging with the crowd and getting them hyped up with your energy.
As you delivered the closing lines at the end of the show, a wave of exhilaration washed over you. The cheers from the audience ignited a sense of pride.
“That was so much fun!” you exclaim as everyone heads backstage to pack up.
Once you’ve finished, you all exit through the back door, where a van is waiting for you. A small group of girls is gathered nearby, chatting excitedly.
“Omg, you guys were amazing tonight!” they call out as you start loading your equipment into the back of the van.
You assume they’re fans, and since you’re still new, most of them direct their attention toward the other members. Some of the band members pause to chat briefly with the girls, while others sign autographs. You finish loading the van and hop in. After a few moments, Renjun gets into the driver seat and starts the engine. Jaemin, Jeno, and Mark are still outside chatting with fans.
You and Renjun discuss some aspects of tonight’s performance that could be improved when the back door swings open and Jeno and Jaemin slide in.
“Where’s Mark?” you ask, eager to leave.
“He’s not coming, he said to go ahead,” Jeno replies, buckling his seatbelt.
You glance out the window and spot Mark engaged in a deep conversation with one of the girls. She’s a bit too touchy, playfully resting her hand on his bicep as she laughs and jokingly shoves him.
“Is he going home with her?” you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.
“Who knows. I think she invited him out for drinks.” Jaemin replies, with a yawn.
“Is someone feeling jealous?” Jeno teases, a smirk on his face.
You shoot him a glare as you buckle yourself into your seat, directing your attention back to the window in silence as Renjun pulls away. The car ride back to Jaemin’s house passes in silence, with you not speaking to anyone the entire way.
The next day during practice, Mark strolls in, greeting you with an unusually bright smile. You return the gesture but your heart sinks when your gaze falls to the hickey marring his neck.
Mark’s grin only widens, seemingly oblivious—or perhaps all too aware—of the effect it has on you.
That day, your hands are practically raw from gripping the microphone tightly, and your voice comes out more aggressive than usual as you sing. Each note feels sharper, almost like you’re pouring all your frustration and jealousy into the music.
It’s evident that Mark is in high spirits today, more cheerful than you’ve ever seen him since you joined the group. You can tell he knows you’re jealous, and he’s reveling in it, flaunting that bruise on his neck, knowing it would get under your skin.
Payback was a bitch.
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“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Renjun insists over the phone, his excitement evident even through the speaker. He’s trying his best to convince you to spend the night at Jaemin's house with the rest of the crew. Everyone has noticed the growing tension between you and Mark, and you know this is Renjun’s not-so-subtle attempt to get you two to sort things out.
“I really can’t, Junnie. I have classwork I need to finish,” you reply, a hint of guilt creeping into your voice. but t’s true. You’re drowning in assignments, and the time you’ve been spending with the boys was the main cause to blame.
“I promise, whatever you have, we’ll help you finish it!” he insists.
“Don’t say ‘we’ if it’s just going to be you helping me while Jaemin and Jeno are being obnoxious.”
“Mark would help if you asked,” Renjun offers, his tone teasing.
“Mark hates me,” you rebut, a soft sigh escaping your lips.
“No he doesn't idiot. You two are a match made in heaven,” Renjun says, speaking with an air of knowing, as if he’s privy to some cosmic truth about the two of you that you’re both missing. “You need to unwind and relax; we all do.”
After a moment of internal debate, you relent. “Fine. I’ll come over,” you say, reluctantly agreeing. You gather your things, making sure to pack your laptop and all the papers you need to complete.
When you arrive at Jaemin’s house, the atmosphere is chill and relaxed. Everyone is sprawled out in the living room, laughing and joking. You set yourself up at the bar counter, trying to create a little space for yourself amidst the chaos.
Renjun approaches you, his eyes widening as he looks over the stacks of papers you’ve brought. “Holy shit, this is a lot,” he exclaims, his playful demeanor turning serious as he sees just how buried you are in work.
“Yeah, it’s overwhelming,” you admit, feeling a little self-conscious. “This is going to take all night”
As the rest gather around, they look down at the jumbled mess of papers you've laid out. It feels a little intimidating under their scrutiny, but you remind yourself you’re all in this together—sort of.
“You’re never behind on your work. Is it because of the band?” Mark asks.
“I’m trying to balance it. I just got a little behind,” you reply, trying your best to organize your thoughts and papers into manageable piles, hoping to start focusing.
“If you need help, you can always ask. If the band is too demanding, you don’t have to stay,” he adds, and you can feel your temperature rising.
You whip around to face him, your frustration boiling over. “It’s not too much, and I’m not going anywhere! Will you stop trying to get rid of me?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
Mark raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he responds, his voice a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.
Jeno and Jaemin, sensing an argument brewing, exchange quick glances before making a hasty retreat, dodging the potential fallout of the impending conflict.
“Hey! That’s not what we’re here for, guys! I will separate you two!” Renjun threatens, trying to interject some humor into the escalating situation.
“I’d be down to watch a good fight,” Jaemin calls from the kitchen, trying to keep things light as he chucks snacks into his mouth. Jeno hits him but fails to hide his own snicker.
Mark raises his hands in defeat, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away, leaving you in your sea of homework. But to your surprise, he sits down next to you, grabbing a textbook from the pile with a determined look in his eyes. There’s something reassuring about his presence.
For the next three hours, Mark and Renjun dive into your assignments, helping you to tackle the mountain of homework that had been weighing heavily on your shoulders. The air is filled with a mix of focused silence and bursts of laughter as the boys throw in playful comments and jokes between serious explanations. You can practically feel the burden lifting as they tackle subject after subject alongside you.
Mark’s arm rests casually around the back of your chair, a gesture that feels both familiar and intimate. You can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you as he guides you through a complicated math equation, explaining each step with patience. You admire his intelligence—after all, he had dropped out to dedicate himself fully to the band, but he was still one of the smartest people you knew.
“Okay, so if we look at it this way…” he says, pointing to a specific part of the equation, his gaze focused on the page. You catch yourself stealing glances at him. When you shift a little closer, trying to get a better look at the page, you notice how the scent of his cologne envelops you.
“Right here, see?” Mark points to the page. “You isolate the variable first, then you can solve for x.”
Your heart races slightly from being so near to him. “Got it,” you reply, trying to focus on the math and not the fluttering feelings in your stomach.
“Try to solve this next one on your own,” he says and he watches you silently as you work through the problem. When you solve it correctly, you look up at him with a smile. Your faces are a lot closer than you thought and you can feel yourself being drawn into him. The way he looks at you ,then down at your lips has wild thoughts racing through your mind.
The moment is interrupted by Renjun returning—snacks in hand and an excited grin plastered on his face. “Look what I found!” he exclaims, breaking the tension.
You and Mark part as Renjun’s presence shifts the atmosphere in the room, and the unspoken connection between the two of you dissipates like a puff of smoke. Mark clears his throat awkwardly, shooting you a shy smile as you hastily close the textbook and begin to clean up your scattered papers, using the busywork to ground yourself in the moment.
“Thanks, guys, you helped a lot,” you say, avoiding Mark’s gaze as you pack your things. “I think I can finish the rest later on my own.”
“Finally! Now can we start the party ?” Jaemin calls excitedly from his spot on the couch, a wide grin plastered across his face, clearly eager to kick off the night’s festivities.
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You were sitting in Jaemin's backyard, swimsuits on and alcohol in hand, the air thick with summer warmth and laughter. The music pulsed through the space, blending with the shouts of your friends as they playfully stumbled around in a tipsy haze. Jeno had just pushed Jaemin into the pool, the splash echoing loudly, and the moment Jaemin climbed out, he grabbed a water gun, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he aimed it at everyone. You and Renjun laugh, sprinting away as Jaemin charged after you, water gun blasting away. You were laughing so hard that tears pricked your eyes as you glanced back just in time to see Jeno slip in the grass while trying to escape Jaemin’s wrath. The whole scene was pure chaos, and you were loving every second of it.
“Where’d Mark go?” you wondered aloud, glancing around for his familiar figure. But as the chaos continued, you didn't have much time to dwell on him.
“Look out!” Renjun suddenly shouted, pulling you back just in time to avoid a full blast of water aimed your way byJaemin. You both took off, laughter spilling from your lips as you ran away.
Jaemin's eyes narrowed playfully as he called out, “I think I saw you laughing earlier! What was so funny?” He was slowly stalking towards you, a toothy grin stretching as he prepared to pounce.
“No, Jaemin, stop! I don’t want to get my hair wet!” You yelled, both terrified and amused, knowing full well the inevitable outcome of his playful threats.
You and Renjun take off running again. In your frantic escape, you accidentally lose him as you ran into the house, your feet carrying you instinctively away from the chaos outside. Before you knew it, you had found refuge in the garage. String lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow that illuminated every corner of the space. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic party outside, and for a moment, you paused to catch your breath. That’s when you heard it—the soft strumming of a guitar.
Mark was sitting in the corner of the garage on a stool, his guitar resting comfortably in his hands. He wore nothing but his swim trunks, revealing sun-kissed skin that glistened under the lights. He looked relaxed, almost completely lost in the moment as his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, creating a melodic sound that filled the otherwise quiet space with a calming warmth.
Caught off guard, you stood still for a moment, mesmerized by him. The sight of his focused expression, the way he seemed to pour his soul into the music, made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. The soft melody comforts you and you realize it was the song he had written for you when you were together.
You are my rockstar
Without you, I'll always feel alone
When I'm lost, you guide me home, yeah
His voice, slurred but passionate, carried throughout the garage and it pulled you closer. You're standing in front of him by the time he notices your presence, his fingers fumbling over the strings of his guitar as his voice abruptly cuts off.
“I’m sorry, I was—” you begin, uncertain of what to say given the haze of drunkenness clouding your thoughts and the fear of what might come out next.
“Wanna learn how to play?” he asks, and the way his eyes glimmer in the dim light makes them resemble little boba pearls.
Before you can reply, he grabs your hand and pulls you to sit in his lap, the warmth of his chest enveloping you as he settles the guitar across your lap. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck, and with his guidance, you position your fingers over the strings, feeling the cool texture of the guitar under your hands. His hands resting possessively on your hips while he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch you
“Now strum,” he instructs, his voice coming out in a breathy whisper.
Your heart races as the weight of his warmth settles against you, his body a comforting presence that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of his sheepish smile.
“Uh, okay,” you stutter out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Just like that,” Mark says softly, his breath brushing your ear, sending another shiver through you. “Now strum gently.”
You take a deep breath, trying to focus despite the way your heart beats like a drum against your ribcage. As you give the strings a gentle strum, a rich sound fills the small garage. The note rings clear, and you can’t help but smile.
“Good girl. You’ve got it,” he encourages, shifting his weight slightly to make more room for you.
However, as he moves, the guitar slips a little from your grip, and you adjust your seating to hold it steady against your thighs. You feel his hands gripping your waist, and his breath comes out harsh against your neck.
“Fuck, baby. Be still for me,” the way he says it framed by a desperate plea has you sucking in a harsh breath. You can already feel a pool of slick forming in your panties from the pet names you haven’t heard in so long.
You stand up, and the look Mark gives you is devastating, filled with longing and confusion. Setting his guitar down on its stand, you approach him again, straddling his waist and settling onto his lap. Neither of you moves; instead, you lock eyes, the connection palpable as his hands trace your sides, the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin warms you against the cool chill in the garage. When his hands travel down to grip your ass, pulling you closer to grind against him, it feels like the final straw.
You surge forward, kissing him with an intensity he isn't afraid to match; both of you are drunk and the kiss is deliciously sloppy. In this moment, nothing else matters except the way he touches you. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and it tangles with his in a fierce battle of passion. The garage is filled with the sounds of wet kisses, moans, and desperate pleas—the usual music of the night replaced by the melody that you and Mark create as you grip and caress each other.
Your hands couldn't keep still, first tangling in his hair, then exploring the contours of his shoulder blades, and finally tracing down the front of his body. You needed to memorize every detail before he was taken from you again. A moan escapes your lips, feeling Mark’s hands fondle your breasts, igniting a wave of desire.
Memories flood back of when he walked in covered in hickeys, a sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through you. With determination, you trail kisses down to his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking him as yours in a way that speaks louder than words. The urgency and heat of the moment envelop you both, and you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies.
Mark groans in pleasure, fingers pulling at the strings of your bikini top, ready to take things further when the garage door creaks open and Renjun stumbles in, his eyes slightly glazed.
“We were looking for you guys,” he announces, and you're grateful for his drunken state because he doesn't mention the compromising position you two are in. “The pizza is here, come inside,” Renjun calls casually before heading back in.
The air crackles with unfulfilled hunger as you exchange a look, half-amused and half-frustrated, knowing you’ll have to put a pause on the fire that had ignited between you.
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Pizza boxes and cans of soda are strewn across Jaemin's dining room table. You and Mark sit side by side and Renjun sends you a questioning look, curiosity flickering in his eyes. You all munch on pizza while some movie buzzes in the background, mostly forgotten amidst the laughter and playful banter. You try hard to focus on the film, desperately pushing thoughts of Mark away, but it’s proving to be a challenge.
“Not gonna lie, guys, I’m about to knock out,” Jeno announces after his third slice of pizza, stretching exaggeratedly in his seat.
“I call the couch!” Renjun declares, raising his hand.
“Where can I sleep?” you ask, glancing around the room.
“I have a guest room you can crash in,” Jaemin replies, his mouth still full of pizza, making it slightly harder to understand him.
“I can crash with Jaemin. I think the guest bed is pretty big,” Jeno adds, a teasing smirk creeping across his face. You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what he’s hinting at.
“Yeah, the couch is small—no room for anyone else,” Renjun adds in helpfully.
“But the couch has enough room for—” Jaemin winces mid-sentence, and you can only imagine who kicked him under the table. “No room! The couch has no room!”
“I don’t mind sharing the bed,” you say, understanding the unsaid implications hovering in the air.
Mark's chuckle sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, and the way he glances at you, intrigue in his eyes, makes your heart race a little faster. The air is thick with unspoken words, and you can almost feel the teasing energy crackling between your friends as they watch the scene unfold.
“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” he says.
Trying to keep your composure despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach, you reply, “Sure, I don’t mind!” You reply a little too enthusiastically.
The others snicker, and you shoot them a mock glare as you take a sip from your soda to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. Jaemin’s smirk grows wider, and Renjun’s eyes twinkle with mischief as they look between you and Mark, clearly enjoying the dynamic unfolding before them.
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You place a pillow between you and Mark as you finally settle into bed, trying to create a comfortable distance. He sends you a bemused look, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’ve shared a bed before, what’s with the pillow? Afraid I’ll bite?” he jokes, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Nah, I’m afraid I might,” you reply, shooting him a devilish smile that makes him laugh, the sound warm and inviting.
As laughter fades, a comfortable silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing and the gentle rustle of sheets. You lie back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The pillow feels like a weak defense as you become acutely aware of the brush of his legs against yours, a gentle reminder of his presence. You can feel his gaze, unwavering and intense, smoldering just off to the side. Reluctantly, you glance over, and your eyes lock with his; there’s a vulnerability there that catches you off guard.
“I miss you,” he says, causing a weight to settle in your chest. The weight of his words hanging in the air, thick with nostalgia and longing.
It sends shivers down your spine, pricking at the old wounds you thought had healed. You feel your heart constrict as your fists clench involuntarily. You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, forcing your voice to remain cool. “You broke up with me, remember?” you reply, your tone layered with a mix of defensiveness and hurt as you shift slightly, seeking to create a physical distance that reflects your inner turmoil.
Mark’s expression shifts, a shadow passing over his face. “I know,” he replies, the weight of the past hanging between you like an invisible thread. “But I thought… I don’t know, maybe we could talk about it? About us?”
“What’s there to talk about?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. “It was complicated then, and it’s complicated now.”
“I get that,” he says softly, his tone earnest. “But I don’t want to just pretend like it never happened or that we don’t have this connection. I… I still love you.”
You feel an ache at the back of your throat, past feelings of anger and betrayal surging anew. “Mark,” you start, searching for the right words, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
“I just want a chance to at least figure things out. To see if we can be in each other’s lives again without it being so… awkward.” he replies, his gaze steady.
“I just don’t want to get hurt again,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
His expression softens, and he nods slowly. “I understand. I don’t want that either. But I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try, right?”
The air feels thick with possibility, and as you lock eyes with him, you wonder if this is the moment where everything could change, or where it could all unravel once more.
You feel a lump forming in your throat, and for a moment, silence reigns as you grapple with the memories of what once was.
“Mark, you’re drunk. Lets just go to sleep,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You turn over onto your side, putting your back to him.
The air hangs heavy with unspoken words as you stare at the wall, taunted with memories you wish you could forget. You can hear Mark’s soft sigh behind you, but you refuse to turn back. You don’t want to see the look in his eyes.
The room falls into silence, and for a moment, you let yourself drown in your thoughts. You had built walls around yourself to keep the pain out, but tonight they feel so thin, as if they are about to crumble.
As sleep begins to creep in, the stinging in your eyes becomes harder to ignore. Silent tears slip down your cheeks, soaking into the pillow beneath you. You wish you could silence your heart and wish you could push away the longing for what was lost.
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Breakfast the next morning is wrapped in a thick layer of awkwardness. The rest of the group exchanges confused glances, just yesterday everything seemed fine. You’re grateful they don’t address the tension directly; there’s a kindness in letting things remain unspoken, an understanding to let things be.
After breakfast, Jeno drives you to your afternoon classes, his comforting presence a small balm on your heart. He gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “Cheer up, okay? Have a good day,” he says, his voice warm and sincere. You nod, appreciating his attempt to raise your spirits, but the defeated look seems to cling stubbornly to your features, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.
“Okay girl, what’s wrong?” Jennie asks, a worried bite to her tone as she eyes you across the table at your favorite smoothie joint later that day. You know she can see through your attempts to mask the turmoil swirling inside. “Is it Mark? I’ll kick his ass if it’s Mark.”
You sigh, trying to blink away the tears that threaten to fall.
“Oh, he’s dead,” Jennie mutters, standing from her seat.
“Wait! Let’s hear what happened first before you go busting kneecaps,” Jungwoo interjects, laughing softly to lighten the mood.
Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and recount the events of last night, Mark's confession echoing in your mind as you share the details with your friends. They sit in silence, taking it all in just as you had.
When the silence finally breaks, it’s Jennie who speaks first. “I hate him, but I don’t doubt for a moment that he ever stopped loving you,” she says reluctantly, crossing her arms.
“He loves me, but he went and hooked up with some random girl,” you roll your eyes, exasperated. The memory of it stinging.
“Don’t make me defend this man, but you did the same thing,” Jennie counters, raising an eyebrow.
“Whose side are you on?” You shoot back, incredulous. "Besides he broke up with me!"
“Girl, I know you love that man. Let’s cut to the chase,” she insists, her tone direct.
You fall silent at that, unable to deny the truth.
“What she means to say is no matter how far your feet run, your heart will always be with him,” Jungwoo adds, his expression passionate.
You and Jennie both look at Jungwoo, surprised by his words. “OMG, Woo, that was deep,” you say, taken aback.
“Yeah, what the hell? Who are you?” Jennie teases, a playful grin creeping onto her face.
“Very funny. Now let’s stick to the topic at hand,” Jungwoo says, his glare returning to you both. “Do you love him?”
You hesitate, knowing you’re not ready to admit the truth out loud. But the answer bubbles up as if it’s been waiting for this moment. “Yes,” you finally confess, the word escaping your lips before you can stop it.
“Then go tell him before you lose him for the second time,” Jungwoo urges, his voice firm and encouraging.
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It's midnight when you finally muster the courage to head to his house. You knock softly on the wooden door, heart racing as you wait for a response. The warm summer breeze flows gently behind you, a soft push from the universe that assures you you’re making the right choice.
After a moment, he opens the door, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of you. “Can we talk?” you ask, voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.
“Yeah, I— yeah," he stumbles over his words, taken aback, but he steps aside to let you in.
You settle onto his couch, fingers fidgeting nervously in your lap, unsure of how to lay your heart bare. Taking a deep breath, you finally find your voice. “Why did you break up with me? Was the band really more important?”
He draws in a breath, searching for the right words. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry for that,” he says, his voice soft. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I was just…”
You wait patiently, urging him to continue. “It’s not because I put the band before you. It because I didn't want to put you last,” he finally explains, his gaze unwavering. “ I didn’t want to neglect you in favor of the band. I thought you would be better off without me than to be ignored.”
Mark searches your face for understanding, and all you can do is absorb his words. “I love music and I love you, but I was naive to think I could use music to fill the hole in my heart that you left when we broke up,” he finishes.
Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “I want us to try again, Mark, but you made me feel like I didn’t matter,” you admit, your voice trembling as the hurt floods back.
Without hesitation, he reaches for your hands, pulling you closer, his warm touch comforting. “You mattered to me then and you matter to me now,” he insists, his expression heartfelt. “I never stopped loving you, I just got lost along the way.”
“Mark,” you whisper, feeling the tightness in your chest begin to ease, “I love you and f you hurt me again, I will break your stupid guitar over your head,” you joke lightly, laughter escaping through a sniffle, a gentle tease after the heaviness of the moment.
A laugh escapes him, filling the room with warmth as he squeezes your hands. “Fair enough. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this right.”
It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, your heart feels light. When you look at him, the truth in his words shines clearly in his eyes. As he leans in hesitantly, testing the waters, a spark ignites your courage, and you meet him halfway, pressing your lips against his softly.
The connection floods back to you in waves—electric, familiar, and exhilarating—reminding you of everything you had missed while he was gone. You realize, in that instant, how much hurt your heart had endured in silence.
The way you kiss each other speaks volumes; there’s a desperation in your connection, a silent vow to never part again—even for a breath of air. Mark is your lifeline. His hands cup your face, caressing you lovingly as he deepens the kiss. The heat from the other night returns, but this time it’s clearer, more intense. There’s no alcohol fueling this moment, just raw passion entwined with affection.
As he finally pulls away, you find yourself lost in the soft features of his face and the way his kiss-swollen lips curve into a half-smile, igniting warmth in your chest. You smile back, and an unspoken understanding passes between you as you stand, gently leading him toward his bedroom. He walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed, a flurry of kisses trailing along your neck and shoulder, igniting every nerve in your body. You fall back into the plush covers, sinking into the softness as you scoot back, urging him to join you. He crawls over you, eyes filled with longing and tenderness as he rejoins your lips.
"I'll never forgive myself for hurting you," he mumbles breathlessly against your lips, and for a moment, you feel the weight of his regret settle heavily between you.
You hold his face in your hands, searching his eyes as you reply, “You have plenty of time to make it up to me.” There’s a playful glint in your eyes, an understanding that this is an opportunity for healing.
With a deep breath, he begins to strip you of your clothes. As he kisses down, you realize each gentle kiss is a whispered apology, each caress a promise. He parts from you just long enough to discard his own clothes, the anticipation building in the space between you before he settles between your legs, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. As he flattens his tongue against your core, the heat of his mouth seeps deep into your bones, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. Your eyes threaten to roll back in sheer ecstasy, but the familiar, smoldering look in his eyes captivates you, sending you a message you read all too well.
Eyes on me
You can’t look away as he licks a bold stripe through your folds, his lips capturing your clit and sucking it into his mouth, flicking it teasingly with his tongue. Each sensation is a delicious blend. It was messy and dirty but he knew that's exactly how you liked it. Overwhelmed, you throw your head back. You arch your back in pure pleasure, but he pulls away instantly.
Taking your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers as the other wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer, his voice a soothing whisper. "Baby."
You know exactly what he wants, and when you meet his gaze again, he rewards you. He dives back into you with fervor, reminding you just how deeply he’s missed your taste. He plunges his tongue deep and thoroughly, before finally pulling away, his face glistening with your arousal. As he licks his lips hungrily and leans down to kiss you, you're eager to taste yourself on his mouth.
You can feel his hips pathetically rutting against you, the rhythm desperate yet filled with a yearning that matches your own. His tip, sticky with precum, glides between your folds as he presses his body into yours from above, a teasing reminder of just how close he is. You need more; you want all of him.
With a daring touch, you reach between your bodies to guide him to your entrance. “Let me have you, don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, your words laced with an ever deeper meaning.
He captures your lips in a heated kiss, before he slowly begins to press into you. The sensation is overwhelming; it’s a stretch, and you realize you haven’t been with anyone in a while. Mark's size only heightens the intensity of the moment, making you acutely aware of every inch as he fills you completely.
He pauses, giving you time to adjust, the tension between you thickening as he watches your reactions. “Are you okay?” he asks, breath slightly ragged as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort.
You nod and bite your lip, urging him silently to move. As he starts to thrust, the pace is slow, but each movement stirs a fire deep within you. Your body responds instinctively, arching toward him, craving the intimacy. More, you think, needing him to delve even deeper to reach the parts of you that have ached for his touch.
“More,” you whine.
In response to your plea, his hips begin to quicken their pace, urgency surging through him as his hips snap against yours. The room is filled with the mingled sounds of your breaths, the slickness of your bodies moving together. He thrusts into you with precision, driving deep and filling you completely, leaving you breathless. You claw the sheets, gripping them tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.
"Like this, baby? Tell me what you need…fuck, just tell me and it's yours," he groans, his brows furrowing in desire and determination.
Your voice fails you, caught in the whirlwind of sensations that flood your body with each thrust. You want to tell him how good he makes you feel, how much you love him, how much you've missed this—missed him—but all that escapes your lips is an unintelligible mix of moans and gasps as he grips your hips, anchoring you down with a possessive hold as he pleasures you.
In response, he leans down, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, “Let me hear you, love. I want to know how good it feels. Let go for me.”
“Just like that,” you manage to breathe out, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure, and it drives him to thrust even harder, eager to send you both over the edge.
And a wave of pleasure crashes over you, pulling you into its depths, you can only grip onto Mark so you don't drown. You can feel his hips stutter and you shiver as his warmth fills you up deliciously.
You finally part, both panting and spent yet glowing with satisfaction. When he rolls over, you find yourself instantly pulled back into his embrace, his strong arms encircling you like a blanket of safety and warmth.
Nestled into the safe embrace of Mark’s chest, you breathe in deeply, allowing the familiar scent—warm, comforting, and distinctly him—to envelop you. he begins to hum a soft tune. It’s a song you know well, one that was often played during quiet evenings spent together. The notes drift effortlessly through the air, and as he hums, you can almost hear the lyrics echoing in your mind. As he reaches the end of the song, sleep finally claims you. The soft whispers of the song echo like a sweet serenade.
When nothing adds up, I'll be your number
You're a 106 and I'm 94, yeah
241 notes · View notes
atzloverr · 3 days
Text
Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you
!!!TW: Yandere!!!
warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)
yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them
and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun
masterlist
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Hongjoong
cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au
The most jealous of them all
Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him
Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen
Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.
Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.
It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.
When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.
He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.
You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)
Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.
What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.
Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something
You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.
The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.
He knew what you really needed, who you really were.
He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.
The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.
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Seonghwa
cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace
Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere
Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you
He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.
As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way
And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him
One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.
Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.
You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.
Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.
No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.
That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.
You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.
You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.
He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.
He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.
After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.
You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.
He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.
He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life
He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.
As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.
He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.
But one night, you did.
Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.
Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic
Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.
He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.
So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.
The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.
Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.
He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.
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Yunho
cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho
Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.
Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.
Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.
“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.
“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.
Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.
Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.
He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.
Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.
After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.
You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.
You were going on a date with him.
Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.
It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.
Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.
But not for Yunho.
He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.
As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.
One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.
“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.
You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.
“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.
“I’m not having this conversation—“
“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.
He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.
“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”
You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”
Yunho squinted slightly.
“You know what, yes, I do.”
You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.
“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.
“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.
You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.
You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.
“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.
You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.
“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.
“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
You had a rough few days ahead of you.
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Yeosang
cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional
His love for you started as a harmless crush.
Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.
It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.
He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life
You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.
He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.
He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.
Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.
He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.
One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)
You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier
“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.
He was surely crazy.
Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence
He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you
When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’
He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you
He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.
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San
cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior
You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you
San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk
He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink
When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own
San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame
He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef
“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze
You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.
San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you
“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.
“Yes please,” you muttered out.
As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.
San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder
Oh how things were changed now.
Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk
He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.
San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.
He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.
San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.
He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.
What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame
His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.
When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.
“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.
San only smirked.
“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.
You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.
“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.
“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.
You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.
Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.
“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”
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Mingi
cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy
Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school
You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just so lure you in to a mario kart tournament
You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill
Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.
He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else
At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend
But now he was sure it was more than that.
During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.
As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.
Well, that was, until now.
Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.
As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.
The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body was you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.
So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.
He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.
Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.
Because Mingi was the one.
He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.
Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?
One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…
No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.
“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”
Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.
“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.
You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.
“Yeah, I think he might be.”
You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.
You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”
Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.
You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.
He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.
You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.
You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.
You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.
He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.
“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”
After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.
When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.
“I love you.”
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Wooyoung
cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation
Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost
Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you
Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.
Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew
Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond
That was, until you entered the picture
Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her
His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form
You were stunning
He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’
As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something
You were way too good for his best friend
Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.
Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.
It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you
He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him
You were just so much better off without his friend.
Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.
As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”
At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.
Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.
He happened to know his best friend a little too well.
One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.
You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.
He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.
He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.
Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.
After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.
He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.
When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.
Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.
While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend
He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk
Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.
“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”
As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise
Were you really seeing things clearly?
As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion
There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body
Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet
“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.
You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.
Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body
You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.
“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”
You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.
“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”
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Jongho
cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior
The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them
As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on
You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe
He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.
“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.
The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.
The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.
You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.
“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.
“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.
You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.
After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.
You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.
Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.
Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.
When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.
He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.
Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.
He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.
And indeed, he did find you.
When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.
He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.
He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.
When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.
You didn’t look like yourself.
You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.
You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door
Jongho was at a loss for words.
This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.
With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.
What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.
After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.
After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.
Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.
So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.
He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.
“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.
He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.
“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.
“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.
You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?
“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.
You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.
The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.
“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.
The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.
You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.
“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.
You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.
Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.
Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.
“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.
“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“
A kiss.
That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.
When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.
His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.
“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”
You shook your head in confusion.
“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.
“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”
Hope you enjoyed!!! Requests are open
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corroded-hellfire · 11 hours
Note
This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?
With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"
Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?
Words: 2.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”
As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.
“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 
He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.
Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.
“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”
Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.
“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 
“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.
“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.
“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”
The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.
“It’s midlife,” she says. 
“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”
The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.
“She loves my Daddy.”
“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”
“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.
“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.
“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 
Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 
“But she loves me,” Luke says.
The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.
“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 
Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.
“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”
“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.
“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”
The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.
“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”
Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 
Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 
“That is enough!”
“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 
“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”
“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”
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The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 
Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 
“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 
Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 
“Luke got in a fight.”
“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.
Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.
“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”
If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”
Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 
“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 
“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 
Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 
Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.
It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, you.”
He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 
His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 
“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 
There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 
A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”
Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”
He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.
“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 
You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 
“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 
“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 
“About what?”
His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 
“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”
“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”
The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.
“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”
“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 
“Well…then he’s stupid.”
Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 
“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”
The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.
“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”
“Even after?” Luke asks.
“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.
Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”
“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.
His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 
“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”
You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.
“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”
“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”
He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 
You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 
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zeroreasonstocare · 2 days
Text
Trouble
A Five Part Sukuna Series
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Part One: Some Dumb Project
Masterlist
Part Two (will update when posted!!)
Synopsis: You switched majors and meet this annoying guy in your new history class, now you have to work on a project with him. Not only that, he goes to the place you work at! Ugh, how annoying, hopefully he won’t cause any trouble…
〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ♛ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎
Sukuna is nothing but trouble. Everyone knows that. All your life, you’ve attracted nothing but trouble. Whether it’s a traffic jam, your coffee being too cold or spilling all over you, or somehow locking yourself out of your apartment, you just can’t help but find trouble.
Like right now.
You’re late. To your first class of your new major. It’s not like you slept in late or anything, your door jammed, meaning you had to bust yourself out of your own apartment. Talk about annoying! Luckily, the professor hasn’t entered class, so when you walk into the lecture hall, you get up to a row with good acoustics and sit next to a boy with pink hair. He smiles at you and taps your shoulder.
“Hey! I’m Yuji Itadori! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before, and most of these people are familiar faces.”
“Yeah, I switched majors over break. Nice to meet you, Itadori.”
“Hey, who’s the person in my seat, brat?”
You think you have double vision when you see Itadori twice, but this second one has tattoos on his face.
“Um, there aren’t assigned seats.”
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” He huffs with his gruff voice, a frown permanently etched into his face. He’s like a polar opposite of Yuji.
“Sukuna, just sit on the other side of me, it’s not that big a deal.” Yuji rolls his eyes.
“Maybe not to you, idiot.”
“Um, who are you?” You tilt your head.
“I’m this brat’s twin brother, isn’t that obvious? Now get out of my spot.”
“Still not your spot.”
“I will carve my name into the desk. Then will you move?”
“Isn’t that vandalism?”
“Even better.”
You scoff into a small laugh and look at Yuji with a “can you believe this guy?” look. You still refuse to switch seats as the professor enters.
“Alright, take your seats, class has started.” He says in a bored tone.
Sukuna scoffs at you and sits on the other side of Yuji, glaring at you the entire time. He can already tell you’re going to annoy him. Especially with your stupid attitude, your dumb clothes that fit you so well, your stupid good looks, your annoyingly attractive body… He needs to not stare. He shakes the thought away as the professor talks about some dumb project he could care less about.
“You all are going to be assigned a group of three people, so just look at the person next to you and on the other side, that’s basically your group, just for simplicity.” The professor looks up and starts writing groups down. “Mkay, so the Itadoris anddd… got it.”
Sukuna almost audibly groans with his eye roll, now he’s stuck with you? What a pain… The end of class couldn’t come sooner. He glares at you as he leaves, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms. You look at Yuji in confusion.
“That’s your twin brother?”
“Yeah, I think he was dropped.”
You laugh at him and shake your head, he’s definitely funnier than his moody counterpart. You head to your next class after exchanging numbers. The rest of the school day goes on like normal. Luckily, you don’t have any other classes with Yuji’s brother, but you do share a math class with Yuji, which is fun. You leave to work, a cafe run by a tired old man, but he’s a nice guy. You get there early somehow, changing into your work clothes and heading to the front to take orders.
You didn’t think the day would be worse, but who else enters the cafe but that annoying tattooed guy? Oh, and Yuji, but he’s not the issue here. There’s a third guy too, he doesn’t look much like them.
“Hey, customers are here, stop staring and take their orders, please.” Nanami tells you.
“Right, sorry.” You mumble and take their orders, Sukuna purposely picking something difficult. Yuji smiles at you and sits at their normal spot.
“This history project makes no sense, we haven’t even been taught this thing and he’s assigning us a project! Can you believe this, Choso?” Yuji groans and sips his drink when you set it in front of him.
“It’s like a research project, and we need to sort out who's doing what.” You say and hand who Yuji called “Choso” his black coffee. You set down the difficult order Sukuna made and he examines it.
“Hmm…”
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure it was made correctly.”
“I didn’t poison it, dude, it has everything you asked for.”
“Hmmmmm…” Your eye twitches.
“You’re not getting a refund, Sukuna, she made it exactly like you asked, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Yuji rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Just ignore him. We need to plan the project anyways. Sukuna isn’t going to do anything, I already know that.”
Sukuna, who doesn’t deny it, opens a bunch of straws, rips small parts of the wrapping paper, balls them up, and throws them across the table. One hits Yuji, one lands onto the floor, one lands in Choso’s coffee, and one hits you while another lands in your hair. Choso glares at his younger brother and rolls his eyes, moving the ball out of his coffee before taking a sip.
“Every day, I wonder how I am even related to you.” Choso mumbles.
“Oh, you say that about me but not the idiot next to you?”
“At least Yuji isn’t a literal menace like you.”
“Can we please focus on the project?” Yuji sighs.
“Whatever.” Sukuna grumbles and keeps tossing trash around.
“I’ll research the start half if you research the end half.” Yuji says to you.
“Mkay, I can also make the presentation.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Sukuna asks.
“Don’t act like you plan to help, idiot! The school already caught you for vandalizing the bathroom stalls! You’re gonna be busy cleaning all that up before you can even work on the project, and I know you’ll take your sweet ass time cleaning everything up!” Yuji argues with Sukuna.
“Really? First day back and you’re already in trouble?” You tilt your head.
“Don’t act so surprised, everyone knows he’s trouble.” Choso says pointedly.
“Oh, I guess you’ve never met him before today, huh? He gets in trouble quite a lot.” Yuji grins. “Anyways, we should let you get back to work, so have fun!”
Yuji leaves a tip for you and you start cleaning the table, not seeing the way Sukuna’s gaze lingers when you bend to pick up the trash from the ground. You hit your head standing back up and swear you can hear someone snicker.
You drive home, though leaving the parking lot of the cafe takes you almost an hour since your key wouldn’t work. When you get to your apartment, you enter through the front door and cook yourself a simple dinner. You count your tips and see a piece of paper you didn’t notice before.
“Don’t sit there tomorrow or I’ll key your car.”
Wonder who that could be from.
The next day, you head to class, getting there early, and Sukuna is already in “his seat”, giving you a glare as his eyes trail down your body. He really can’t stand you, he decides again. Your outfit today sits a little too perfect, being just tight enough that if someone was looking hard enough (which Sukuna was), they could see the outline of your bra.
You chew on the end of your pencil, a bad habit you’re yet to break, and Yuji shares the research doc to you. You split the work between the two of you and Sukuna just sits in the doc typing the same three phrases over and over.
“Stop that.” Yuji smacks his brother’s arm.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re typing ‘death and destruction’ as if you’re manifesting it, stop.”
“I’m not just typing that…”
“Don’t get me started on ‘the despair is endless’ and ‘this class shouldn’t exist’. What are you, twelve?”
“I’m twenty-one, like you, dumbass!”
“I’m not the dumbass writing edgy shit on the doc!”
“Oh my god, you two, just let him type his edgy shit and continue researching.” You groan.
Yuji huffs in frustration and continues his research while you check the doc to see what Sukuna is doing. There are fire emojis in the middle of your typing, the words “you work tn?” near the bottom of the page. You sigh and humor him, talking through the document.
“No, why?”
“So I don’t get to throw trash at you later?”
“Nope.”
“How sad.”
You look at him and he has a smirk. You roll your eyes and leave when class is over, tripping over your own feet. He laughs at your misfortune and grunts when Yuji smacks him in the head.
“What was that for?!”
“Don’t go flirting with her, she’s a nice girl who doesn’t need someone like you to fuck up her happiness.”
“I’m not flirting with her!”
“I saw the fucking doc, dipshit. You’re not slick.”
“I was asking if she’d be around for me to torment.”
“You and I both know what your intentions were.”
The tattooed twin grunts and walks off, lighting a cigarette and tripping some nerd who apologizes for being in his way. He wasn’t flirting. He can’t stand you, he tells himself. He can’t stand your quick remarks to his words, can’t stand your stupid doe eyes, the way they squint when you’re focused on typing after the third typo in a row, can’t stand the way you purse your lips and the slight smile on your face when he and Yuji are arguing, definitely not wondering what it’d be like to feel them against his own. Because he wasn’t flirting. Yuji doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Sukuna smokes and half-ass scrubs the stall he vandalized yesterday. His thoughts are not focused on you, your stupid face, or your dumb words. Totally not. He wasn’t flirting, he reassures himself again. He’s not interested in you. Even if he was, he wouldn’t admit that. You’re just some girl in his class. Not important at all.
He’s late to the cafe and Yuji is fixing the mistakes in the research document. Choso sips his usual black coffee and scrolls on his phone.
“You’re late.” The elder brother points out.
“Had to clean the bathrooms.”
“I see. Your barista friend isn’t here.”
“She’s not my ‘friend’, Choso.”
“She’s Yuji’s friend.”
“Doesn’t make her mine by default, she can have the brat.”
“Says Mister Flirts With Her.” Yuji grins.
“I wasn’t flirting dammit!”
“Why are you getting so defensive, huh?”
“I am not! You’re just a pain in my ass and annoying the hell out of me!”
“Stop screaming, Nanamin will kick us out!” Yuji frowns.
“I still don’t get how you’re so buddy-buddy with the old man.” Choso mumbles.
“He’s pretty cool. Kind of mean, but he makes delicious bread.”
“Literally how the hell are you even aware of that?” Sukuna scoffs.
“Unlike you, I actually talk to people, and get along with them!”
“Whatever…” He scoffs.
Sukuna seems bored. He taps the table to a catchy tune and just waits until it’s time for him to go home. He watches a few groups walk into the cafe and at Yuji working diligently on his laptop.
“At least she does her work. I’d hate to do this project alone.” Yuji says to no one in particular.
“Do you do anything else besides complain?”
“Shut the fuck up, Sukuna. Let me think out loud. And you complain more than I do.”
“Liar.”
“How the hell is that a lie?”
Choso chuckles at his younger brothers. “Sukuna, you do have a streak for complaining more than Yuji.”
“Oh, dare I bring you into this, Choso?”
“You’re right; withdrawn.”
“Let’s just go home already.”
“Yeah, fine.” Yuji frowns and shuts his laptop.
When they get home, Sukuna feels a buzz in his pocket. He checks his phone. There is a text from Gojo, the university’s pretty boy.
Party at my place next Thursday.
This should be fun.
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machveil · 3 days
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I blame you for my Simon brainrot, so have this:
Simon smitten with someone who is a complete nerd, just an absolute geek. Plays D&D, reads way too much, wears glasses (I double blame you for this) and dorky shirts and socks, etc. Him just sitting there listening to them ramble about something he has no clue about and then later on him referencing back because you cant tell me he isnt actually paying attention even if he doesnt have a vested personal interest in it.
I’ll happily take responsibility for Simon Riley brainrot lol
Simon Riley is absolutely smitten with Nerd!Reader - it doesn’t matter what fascinates you, he’s taken. anime, manga, comics? tell him about it. music, video games, movies? play something for him. are you into Dungeons and Dragons? he’ll listen to you explain everything - show him your dice, tell him about all the classes, spells, monsters
Simon Riley adores your glasses - prescription or not. thick frames? metal? plastic? functional or fashionable? he can’t stop looking at your face. if you do have prescription lenses you can convince Simon to try them on. they’re a little small sitting on the crooked bridge of his nose, he blinks once before handing them back, “Prefer my reading glasses.”. but if you wear his reading glasses? he’s nearly drooling, they look so charming on you - in fact, why don’t you just keep ‘em?
Simon Riley will soak in whatever you tell him. be careful talking to him about stuff you want, if you mention a certain pair of pretty dice or a new volume of your favorite series it’ll end up in your hands, cost be damned. if something is really expensive Simon will lie through his teeth so you don’t feel bad, “Was on sale, love, don’t worry. Hm? Exclusive release? Don’t know about that.”
Simon Riley, the big, hulking man he is, can be talked into cosplaying for you. he might roll his eyes, but he’s biting back a smile when you mention he would look good dressed as a certain character from a series you love. when October rolls around you might just come home to find Simon standing in the doorframe to your bedroom, dressed in oh so familiar clothes, “This what you wanted, lovie?”
Simon Riley that, even though he’s dead silent listening to you, can repeat everything you’ve said back to him. he might forget smaller details - the color of a character’s clothes, the way to specifically pronounce a name, but he remembers your favorite chapters and episodes, the class you play and your lucky dice. he might even surprise you when he talks about things you didn’t tell him, “Hm? Oh, jus’ did some light readin’ on it, nothin’ special.”
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Mad Season 6 🕸 Story A
Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: this is Peter's side of the story.
Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“Um...” you drone dumbly at Peter. “I don’t know.” 
He stares back at you. He looks scared, “you don’t know?” 
“I’m sorry, I...” the raucous party rumbles on inside the walls. “I can’t think here.” 
“Hey, let me grab my jacket, we can talk outside,” he offers. “Wait, where’s your coat? You can’t go out like that?” 
You look down and realise you left your jacket inside. In fact, he took it. You shrug and he holds up a finger.  
“Please, just give me a chance.” 
You nod. What else can you do? He rushes back through the door and you turn away. You try to ignore the couple sloppily lapping at each other’s mouths. 
You don’t know what to think. You can barely cling to a coherent thought. Bucky’s warning echo in your head. Isn’t this proof? There are other girls, not just you. Yet, you keep asking yourself why you care about them. Peter asked you to be his lab partner, not his girlfriend. 
In fact, no one has ever asked you to be their girlfriend. Why would they? You’re quiet and boring. You shrink back against the wall and peer down at the floor. You should just tell Peter to go back to MJ. 
He appears and your resolve rots away. He only has his coat. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find your coat. I looked all over. The green one right? With the orange buttons? I don’t know what happened but take mine.” 
He holds you his jacket, “Oh, it’s fine. I can’t--” 
“Now what kinda jerk would I be if I let you go cold?” He insists. “I’ll be fine. Really. I like the cold.” 
You blink and take the jacket. You don’t like arguing. You already feel bad enough after barging in on him and MJ. You can’t stop thinking of it. God. It feels so... wrong. 
He walks you down the hall. You’re both silent. You keep distance between you as you get to the elevator and ride it without saying a word. You go out into the lobby and as you get to the front door, you grab the front of his jacket and start to push it off. 
“Please, keep your coat. I should go home--” 
“Just hear me out, okay?” He begs and stops you from taking off the coat. “Please.” 
You face him and dip your chin, “okay.” 
He sighs. You peek up from under your eyelids. He smiles nervously, cheeks pinkening, and he shifts his weight on his feet. He clears his throat. 
“Look, I’m an idiot. I went into that room with MJ. I know how she is. I’m not going to play victim here. All I can say is it won’t happen again.” His jaw ticks, “I’m a dummy. I was... I was so nervous about talking to you. I know you hate parties but I thought if I was drinking I could just tell you how I feel. And of course, it just made me stupid.” 
Your mouth falls open. He can’t be saying what you think he is. Right?
Before you can respond, the door to the lobby opens and you look over as MJ struts out. Her long legs are toned in her heels and her short leather skirt. Her hair is perfect and her makeup brings out her natural colouring. She’s perfect and you’re wearing a pleated skirt. 
You look at Peter again and deflate. 
“Peter,” MJ approaches, “why’d you run off?” 
“MJ,” he sighs, “I told you--” 
“What did you tell me before you had my tongue down your throat?” She smirks. 
“Stop,” he snips. “I said no.” 
“But you didn’t stop me,” she scoffs. “And now what? You’re scurrying around with her? Really? Her?” 
“Don’t be mean,” Peter steps between you and her, as if he’s trying to hide you. 
“You call it mean, I call it honesty,” she chirps back. 
“Get out of here. You weren’t even invited,” he snarls as he reaches back and latches onto your wrist. 
“When did you turn into such a fucking loser?” She snips and shoves him.  
He collides with you but takes most of the impact. She stomps out in her clunky heels as you turn to watch her. She doesn’t look back. 
Slowly, you spin back to Peter, “are you alright?” 
“Yeah, fine,” his shoulders droop. “Look, I get it. I screwed up. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your night. I already dragged you here. Just, take my coat, get home safe. Be done with me.” 
His eyes twinkle wetly and his nose twitches. He looks like he could cry. As small as you are, he seems even smaller in that moment. 
“You didn’t let me answer,” you say. 
His forehead lines in confusion and his lips open wordlessly. 
“I... I’m surprised is all. It’s been a weird night and...” You sway and fold your hands. “I’m kind of a mess myself. I really don’t do well in crowds. I know you know that.” You try to smile. “And I know it’s lame but... I really do try and...” you look away and your cheeks heat up. “I don’t think I would if I didn’t like you too.” 
Another suffocating silence sucks the air out of the room. You fidget and stare at your boots. You wince as Peter steps closer. He surprises you as he pulls the jacket closed and does up the zipper. As the tab reaches the top, he taps your chin and you look up at him shyly. 
“Can I walk you home?” He asks as he brushes his hand down the sleeve and tickles your fingers. 
A full smile breaks through and you nod giddily, “sure.” You grab onto his hand, vibrating in vibrant excitement. Can he feel you shaking? 
“You still cold?” He asks as he tugs you towards the door. You shake your head but as you step outside, he puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. He walks you down the pavement as a blistering wind blows around you. “Gotta keep my girl warm, huh?” 
“Your... girl?” You squeak. 
He hums and squeezes you tight, “all mine.” 
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hearts4werka · 1 day
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My eyes slowly flutter open while the sunlight pools into my and Matthew's shared bedroom through the curtains over the windows as the morning hours strike, glancing at my current surroundings I see the form of sleeping Matthew next to me with his tattoed arm softly draped over my waist. I can't help but stare at his adorable sleeping face for a few minutes, pbserving and taking in his facial features shadowed by the sunlight occupying the space around us in the moment.
Turning my head to lay flat against the soft pillow sitting currently beneath my head, I stare at the ceiling and come up with an idea to prepare breakfast and since Nick and Chris will be arriving later today to visit before they both have to attend to some meetings regarding their brands, I havent been told much yet but hope to get slightly more educated when they do arrive.
I pull the duvet away from my body, ready to exit the bed and start my day but Matthew’s hand that was previously laying down on my waist tightens its grip and subconsciously pulls me closer into his chest, holding me captive as he slowly stirs awake himself and buries his face into my hair as I hear him mumble something into them but I can’t quite make out the words.
“What was that, sleepyhead?” I ask softly, taking my eyes away from the ceiling and now on him, noticing him slowly coming back to consciousness and waking up from his slumber.
“…five more minutes” He repeats more clearly for me to understand him this time in a slight whine, his face still buried in my hair as I notice him inhaling the scent of them in that moment, still remaining half asleep and not fully awake yet.
When the words ‘five more minutes’ in that whiny tone from sleepy Matthew, knowing very well that in his state right now im not getting far with this conversation so I just chuckle under my breath at how clingy he's being and especially in the morning. Accepting my faith I place a soft kiss on his forehead and snuggle further into his chest, giving into his wishes.
“Only five more minutes, after that I gotta get up. Okay?” I clarified, glancing over at him to make sure he understands me but the only answer I receive is a groan of approval. Nodding his head against the top of my head as he softly pulls me impossibly closer into his chest as he can.
“I love you.” I whisper against his chest as I feel a smile growing on his face thats cuddled up into my hair, our bodies melting together as heat radiates off them and transfers them to the other persons skin, making it slightly tingle.
“Love you too.” He muttered as we continued to cuddle up against each other, suddenly I feel a hand starting to tickle me in ticklish places on my body. Out of instinct my body jerks away from the hand, while Matthew giggles under his breath and continuing his tickle assault.
The sudden tickles make me burst out in laughter as I return them, poking at his chest and starting to tickle him as well. Both of us end up as two laughing messes on the bed after only a few minutes passing by, I adore mornings like these with Matthew laughing next to me.
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@hearts4werka
authors note: just a random blurb I wrote today in class out of boredom and while writing the drug dealer Chris fic and I might make it like three parts or two bc I’m writing their meeting rn and I don’t want it to be very long since the first part is already longer that I thought it would be so just say if y’all want it to be two parts of nah, luv y’all so much
Guestlist!
| @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @deffonotjae - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @klaus223492 - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot |
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kikyoupdates · 2 days
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For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒
various!jjk x f!reader
reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn
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You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.
prologue | story masterlist | next
When faced with the demands of the strongest sorcerer, your family can’t possibly protest. Well, not that they would have wanted to, anyway. They must be happy they don’t have to deal with you anymore. 
Out of sheer spite, your mother insisted you live with the rest of the clan and be forced into a life of cruelty and discrimination, but even she would never dare defy Gojo Satoru. Besides, her wish has already been fulfilled. You still won’t have a shot at a normal life. Even if you had been given the right to choose for yourself, now that you’ve met Satoru and discovered what world this is, there’s no way you would ever take the easy way out. 
For better or worse, you will be a jujutsu sorcerer. 
True to his word, Satoru was able to convince the Gojo Clan members to let you stay with them. You’re not sure exactly what he told them, but he may as well be their deity. Granted, he’s still only a kid, but in the grand scheme of things, bringing in a single girl to stay at the estate isn’t that big of a deal. It isn’t a difficult request to fulfill. Based on the way everyone turns up their noses at the sight of you, however, you can tell they aren’t too happy about it. 
“No one here will ever hurt you,” Satoru promises. He keeps glancing over at you every few seconds as he leads you through the grounds of the estate—which is massive, might you add. He’s a lot more attentive than you were expecting. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re a weak, helpless baby bird. Which you might as well be, in all fairness. 
You nod and smile brightly. “Okay. Thank you, Satoru. I’m really happy to be here.” 
“Are your injuries really painful?” he asks with a frown. “We don’t have anyone here that knows how to convert cursed energy into positive energy. But if I try asking, maybe they can reach out to another clan and bring someone over to heal you.” 
“You don’t need to go to the trouble. I’ll be okay.” 
Satoru watches as your grin somehow gets even wider, despite the fact that the bruised, swollen parts of your face must be aching uncontrollably. He’s not sure why you’re always smiling so much. It’s not like you ever had any reason to smile. Not with how horribly your family has always treated you. 
Then again, that’s exactly what drew him in. Your warm, sunny disposition, which is so starkly different from what he’s used to. Even if it doesn’t make much sense, a smile suits you. He likes seeing you smile. 
He’s already decided that he’s going to protect that smile of yours.
You’re given a nice place to stay. Satoru insisted that you live in the same building as him. It’s obvious that he wants to keep you nearby, in case anyone dares to try anything. Although you’re willing to bet that they won’t risk upsetting him. Not when he’s made it clear that you’re off-limits. 
It’s kind of crazy how much power and authority a literal child has. 
Gojo Satoru is in a class of his own. The details of his upbringing were never openly disclosed in the anime or manga, but you know for a fact that he didn’t have anyone he could truly call a close friend. Not until he met Suguru. 
You may be hopelessly weak for now, but if nothing else, you’ll make it so that he never has to feel lonely.
That night, you settle into your big, spacious room. You didn’t bring anything along with you for the move. It’s not like you had any personal belongings to speak of. Certainly nothing valuable, either. Your new room is a bit empty right now, save for a few decorations here and there, but you resolve to brighten it up and make it your own. All in due time. 
Before you tuck in for bed, Satoru stops by. 
“Hi,” he greets, poking his head into the room. “You don’t mind if I come in for a bit, right?” 
“Of course not,” you smile. “Go right ahead.” 
He nods and steps inside. There’s a clan member waiting by the doorway, and they flash you a brief glare before turning their back towards you and sliding the door shut. As expected, you’re far from popular. They probably think you’re just a hindrance, or maybe even a distraction. You’re not sure if they’ll ever change how they feel about you, but it’s definitely better than staying with your own family. 
Besides, as long as Satoru likes you, that’s more than enough. 
“Is this room okay?” he asks, kneeling down onto a cushion. “If you don’t like it, I can get you a different room instead.” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure. 
“Really? You can be honest. I can tell that you’re the kind of person to hide how you feel because you don’t want to upset anyone else. I already know your dad is the one who beat you, but it didn’t look like you were going to rat him out.” 
“I just didn’t want to stir up even more of a fuss. Besides, seeing other people get hurt won’t make me feel any better. I’m happy enough just to be here. Again, thank you, Satoru. For helping me.”
You sure like to thank him a lot. He’s not really used to being thanked—for anything, really. He’s being trained and brought up as the strongest sorcerer. It’s a given that he’s meant to save and protect those who are weaker than him. But you don’t take any of that for granted. You’re never shy about showing your appreciation. You want him to know how much every one of his gestures means to you. 
He likes that. He likes it a lot. 
“If it’s alright, I’m going to try and go to sleep now,” you say. “I’m pretty tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Oh. Did you want to spend the night in my room? Like a sleepover? Would you be allowed to do that?” 
Satoru blinks. The invitation catches him off guard, and he watches as you pat the spot beside you, on your futon, still smiling brightly. 
He turns away in a hurry, cheeks red. 
“I-It’s fine,” he stammers. “I should sleep in my own room. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It seems like you are, so… I’ll leave now. Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight,” you happily reply, but Satoru is already out the door, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. 
You giggle at the sight. He’s so adorable. You can’t even express how happy you are to be here. The future may look grim, but you’re determined to change it, no matter what it takes. 
That night, you dream of a world where Gojo Satoru is saved. 
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“Satoru. Here, try this. I made yummy rice balls for us to eat. There’s a secret ingredient inside. Can you guess what it is?” 
Satoru reaches out and takes a rice ball into his hands, furrowing his brows as he looks it over. As far as rice balls go, it looks pretty normal. It’s actually rolled up really neatly. He’s surprised you made this yourself. You did a pretty good job. 
“Secret ingredient, huh?” Satoru shrugs. “Sure, I’ll try it.” 
He takes a big bite, and although he’s not really sure what he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. 
“Gross!” he exclaims, immediately spitting it out of his mouth and onto the ground. He then proceeds to stare at the inside of the rice ball he just bit into. “Did you… you actually put chocolate inside of this? Disgusting! What’s wrong with you?!”
You frown. “What, you mean you don’t like it? I actually think it’s pretty good. I was sure this combination would be a hit.” 
Satoru watches, horrified, as you bite into your own rice ball, smiling all the while. There might actually be something wrong with you after all. He’s starting to realize that you’re slightly unhinged. 
“Remind me not to eat anything you make ever again,” he shudders. 
“I’ll pick something better next time, don’t worry. Oh! How about this? What do you think of rice balls stuffed with ice cream—” 
“No.”
This is what most of your days look like. It’s been just over a week since you arrived at the Gojo estate. Your injuries have almost fully healed. Also, you’re no longer required to do chores at virtually every waking moment, so whenever Satoru isn’t busy with training, you spend all of your time together.
Satoru has to do a lot of different things. It’s not just honing his jujutsu abilities, day in and day out. He isn’t allowed to slack off when it comes to academics, either. It’s clear that his family intends for him to be perfect in any way possible. They refuse to let him settle for anything other than the best. 
It’s a lot of pressure for a kid. Satoru makes it look easy, but nevertheless, you feel sorry for him. Which is why you always try to make sure that he’s having fun when he’s with you. You want him to have some semblance of a childhood, at the very least. 
Of course, you still can’t grant him the freedom you wish he had. It’s always inevitable that someone gets in the middle of your time together. 
“Master Satoru. It’s time for you to work on your studies.” 
One of his usual attendants comes to pick him up. Satoru clicks his tongue in visible annoyance, but as always, he doesn’t protest. He has a strong sense of duty and purpose. A determination to uphold his responsibilities as the strongest. 
Before he leaves, though, he turns back towards you. 
“I want [Name] to come with me today,” he says. “She can at least sit in the room while I’m doing my work, right?”
The attendant blinks. He’s bewildered, of course, and you’re not sure what else to do but bat your eyes at him with a bright, hopeful expression. You may be weak, but you’d like to think that you’re a pretty cute kid. It’s about time someone developed a soft spot for you. 
“She’ll distract you,” the attendant refuses. He narrows his eyes at you in frustration, so apparently, you’re not that cute.
Satoru pauses for a moment, then grabs you by the hand and pulls you close. 
“I want her there,” he insists, interlocking his fingers with yours. “She’s coming. I’ve already decided.” 
“Master Satoru, you can’t—” 
Too late. It seems like he’s in an awfully stubborn mood today, so for better or worse, you find yourself in the same room as him while he has his lesson. 
It’s a bit awkward. Satoru told you to sit right next to him the whole time, and although he doesn’t allow himself to get distracted, it still feels weird to be sitting in on a private lesson. While the teacher glares at you the whole time, no less. 
“Do you know what the answer to this question is?” the teacher asks, pointing to one of the questions in the textbook Satoru is learning from. 
Satoru chews on the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. “It’s… B. The answer is B.” 
“Sorry. I’m afraid that’s not correct,” the teacher says. She scribbles something down onto a piece of paper. “It’s alright. That was an exceptionally advanced question, so I can’t blame you for—” 
“It’s C.” 
To be honest, you didn’t mean to voice your thoughts aloud. It was a reflexive, absentminded remark. The answer was just so obvious that you ended up blurting it out. 
But now, both Satoru and the teacher are staring at you in bewilderment.
Satoru turns towards the teacher with a frown. “Is she right?” 
“...yes,” the teacher replies, looking somewhat reluctant to do so. “But it was a multiple choice question, so I’m sure it was just luck. Let’s move on to—” 
“[Name], what about the next one?” Satoru asks, pointing towards another spot on the page. “Try answering this one, too.” 
So, you do. You don’t just answer that question, but the next one, and the next one after it, and the next one after that, and so on and so forth. The teacher looks both amazed and horrified. Even Satoru can’t seem to hide how taken aback he is. They’re both staring at you like you’ve been hiding this incredible intelligence all along, when really, you’re kind of cheating. You died when you were sixteen years old. Satoru is incredibly smart for his age, but even taking that into account, your years of lived experience give you an obvious advantage. 
Still, you have to admit, it feels kind of nice. Finally being acknowledged for something, that is. 
Satoru’s lesson ends, and you can see the teacher whispering to the other Gojo Clan members about what just happened. Their eyes all widen in shock as they glance your way. They believe you’re ‘gifted’ all of a sudden, and while it doesn’t mean much for a jujutsu sorcerer, at least they might think a bit more highly of you from now on. Maybe they’ll finally approve of you being by Satoru’s side. 
“I didn’t know you were smart,” Satoru admits. “To be honest, up until now, I thought you were kind of dumb.”
“...oh.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” 
“Is there a good way to be dumb?” 
“I just meant that you seemed a bit dumb, because of how straightforward and simple you are. And you’re nice to everyone, no matter how badly they treat you. You’re easy to take advantage of, so… yeah. I thought you were dumb. Sorry.” 
Satoru chuckles sheepishly. You snort in response, amused by his uncharacteristic shyness. You suppose it doesn’t really matter whether people think you’re smart or not. From the moment you were born, it was clear that you would have to defy everyone’s expectations. You’re going to have to work harder than most in order to prove yourself. In order to have a chance at saving people.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Satoru remarks. 
“What thing?” 
“It’s a thing you do sometimes. You drift off, and even though you’re usually smiling all the time, your face will get all serious for a few moments.” 
“Oh. I guess I have a habit of getting lost in my thoughts. Sorry. I just really want to get stronger. I end up thinking about it a lot.” 
Satoru doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s strange that you’re so fixated on improving yourself. He’s the strongest, so of course, there’s a heavy burden upon his shoulders. He has to be the best. It’s both his birthright and his destiny. There’s simply no way around it. 
But as for you…
Come to think of it, do you actually need to become stronger? 
He’s already decided that he’s going to protect you. Even if he hasn’t known you for very long yet, he likes having you around. There’s no reason why he can’t look after you. It’d be nice if you got stronger too, he supposes, but it’s not like you’d ever be stronger than him. With him by your side, your future is already assured. 
Which is why it’s weird. There’s this urgency and desperation he senses from you, almost constantly. It’s not like your family is around anymore. And even if they ever tried to take you back, he wouldn’t let that happen. 
And yet, you’re still determined to become stronger. It’s almost like there’s something you’re not telling him. Something more than just a simple desire to prove yourself. 
…then again, maybe he’s reading into things too much. 
Word travels fast, and soon, pretty much everyone in the clan has discovered that you possess intellect far beyond what they imagined (not really, but whatever, you’ll take it). Satoru keeps insisting that you be allowed to sit in on his lessons from time to time. They reluctantly allow it, and sometimes, you even help answer some of the questions he has—instead of the teacher whose literal job it is to do so. She doesn’t seem to like you very much, unfortunately.
One night, as you’re preparing to go to bed, Satoru stops by your room again. 
He does this a lot. He usually makes a point of saying goodnight to you before he goes to sleep. It’s adorable, and it warms your heart to see that he’s starting to care for you so much. Sometimes, you still can’t believe this is the life you’re living. 
You were expecting him to poke his head into the room before exchanging a few words, as usual, but this time, he turns up with a futon of his own. 
“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he declares. 
You blink. “Oh. You got permission?” 
“Yes. They whined about it a lot, but I said I didn’t care. It’s not even a big deal. You said before we could have a sleepover, right? Unless… you changed your mind.” 
He averts his gaze, looking a bit bashful. Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll refuse. Although you’re not sure who in their right mind would turn away this adorable little sweetheart. 
“I definitely didn’t change my mind,” you grin. “I’m always happy to have a sleepover with you. We can stay up all night telling each other scary stories! I know a few really good ones.”
“Why would I be scared of some stupid stories?” Satoru brushes off. “I’ve already exorcized all kinds of cursed spirits. And none of those were scary, either. I’m too strong to have anything to be scared of.” 
“You’re just saying that because you haven’t heard them yet. You act tough now, but I bet you’ll be crying later.” 
Satoru rolls his eyes as he lays his futon down next to yours. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but once he’s lying down, facing you, and when he realizes just how close the two of you are… he’s embarrassed to admit that his heart starts beating a bit faster.
“If this is weird, I can leave,” he mumbles. 
“It’s not weird at all. Like I said, I’m happy you’re here. Ah. You’re not just trying to come up with excuses so you don’t have to hear my scary stories, right? I see right through you, Satoru. You’re not sneaky.” 
Satoru laughs. It’s a pleasant, melodic sound, and you hope you’ll be able to hear it more often from now on. 
Before you can start telling your stories—you really do have some good ones you’re excited to share—Satoru scoots in a bit closer, then gently places his hand down on top of yours. 
“It’s okay,” he says, and since you’re not sure what he’s referring to, you just frown. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re not strong, because I’m strong enough for the both of us. Before, I said I’d be your friend if you showed me how you planned on getting stronger, but… it’s fine. You don’t need to do that anymore. I’ll still be your friend. I don’t care if you’re weak or not. So, don’t worry about what anyone else says. I’ll stay with you no matter what.” 
Through the dark of night, you can’t tell, but he’s blushing profusely right now. He feels like he just said something really cheesy. But he’s not going to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. He means it wholeheartedly. 
You, his first ever friend, are irreplaceable. 
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More time passes, and as much as it pains you to admit, you still haven’t gotten any stronger. 
While Satoru is busy training, you do the same. You try your absolute hardest to make some kind of progress, and yet, the changes are minimal—if any. It’s as if your body simply isn’t cut out for this, which is a bitter irony. To think that you’ve been reincarnated into a world where you have the potential to do a lot of good and help a lot of people, but your weakness is holding you back. 
The knowledge you have is invaluable. You know that. Even if you’re not all-powerful, you still have the ability to make a difference. But this is Jujutsu Kaisen. A world in which death isn’t just possible; it’s more common than surviving. If you don’t have any way of protecting yourself and others, who’s to say you’ll even last long enough to save everyone? 
It hurts. You hate being weak. You hate that your efforts yield no results. Unlike in the real world, where people can usually make up for talent or skill through sheer dedication and hard work, here, your fate may as well be sealed. 
“Not like that,” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Do it like this.” 
He proceeds to give you yet another up close demonstration of his cursed energy at work. He flattens several pop cans in one fell swoop, while you’ve been struggling to do the same to a single one of them. 
You exhale tiredly. “Stop saying it like it’s second nature. You have better control of your cursed energy than anyone else. I can’t possibly compare.” 
“Well, I don’t really know how else to explain it,” he shrugs. 
Your shoulders slump. A while ago, you had your sixth birthday. Which means it’s been slightly more than a year since you’ve gone to live with the Gojo Clan. A whole year, and still, you’re as weak as ever. You know it’s still too early to give up, but it’s hard not to feel discouraged when you have Satoru by your side, and every day, you’re reminded of the fact that you’ll be helpless to change his fate if this continues. 
“You’re getting upset again. Even though I keep telling you that it’s okay if you don’t get stronger. You have me. You won’t ever need to be scared.” 
Satoru smiles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a loose hug. During your time together, he’s become a lot more cheerful and expressive, which is of course due to your influence. It makes you happy to see, and you’re overjoyed that he cares about you to this extent. If you didn’t know what the future holds in store, you would’ve been more than willing to sit back and let him protect you.
He doesn’t realize that he’s destined for an early death. He’s so sure of himself, so confident in his strength, that he doesn’t even consider it to be a possibility. Which is why you do need to become stronger. Even if he doesn’t understand why. 
You hug him back for a few moments, then pull away—much to Satoru’s disappointment. 
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To train some more. I already talked to one of the clan members earlier. They agreed to help teach me. Reluctantly, but still.” 
“But we’re supposed to be having a lesson together soon,” he says, making a point to pout at you. 
You smile weakly. “Sorry. I’ll be there next time. I just… can’t afford to slack off. If I keep working hard, then eventually, something will give.” 
Of course, as you expected, your supervised training session doesn’t go much better. You can see the clan member repeatedly rolling their eyes at your lack of talent. The only reason they’re helping you at all is because Satoru insisted they honor your requests. 
Once again, you’re left feeling hopeless and deflated. You wonder if you’ll ever see any improvement, or if you truly are beyond salvation. Destined to be so weak that you can’t protect a single person. 
Not even your dearest friend. 
You stare down at your feet, gaze glassy, and for a moment, it feels like you’re about to cry. Isn’t there anything you can do? Anything at all? Some kind of trick that will allow even a weakling like you to have a fighting chance?
Some kind of… trick? 
All of a sudden, your eyes widen. 
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Since meeting you, Satoru’s life has become a lot more fun.
He enjoys having you here. He never thought it would make that big of a difference, being able to spend time with a kid his own age. And not just any kid, but someone who’s taught him how to smile, laugh, and appreciate simple moments he used to take for granted before. He’s glad he made the decision to visit you again that fateful day. If he hadn’t done that, every day would still be just as monotonous and boring. Every day would be unbearably predictable. 
Satoru can never predict what you’re about to do next. It’s strange, because at first glance, you seem like a simpleton, but you always manage to find new ways to surprise him. 
Like right now, for instance. 
“[Name],” Satoru calls out. As always, he knows exactly where to find you. He can tell everyone’s cursed energy apart, and although yours is scarce, it easily stands out the most to him. It’s comforting and familiar. He’s fully committed it to memory by now, and if he wanted to, he could write a whole essay describing it. 
It doesn’t take long for Satoru to find you. For some reason, you’re standing in place and staring off into the distance with a vacant expression. You’re also holding something in your hand. Is that… a knife? 
“[Name],” Satoru repeats. He frowns as he steps closer to you. “What are you doing? What’s the knife for?”
You don’t respond at first, but then you turn towards him, in a rigid, unsettling manner. Your eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them before. Even your lips are slightly parted, as if something has you in awe.
“I understand now,” you mumble breathlessly. 
Whatever it is that you understand, Satoru definitely doesn’t. He’s unbelievably confused. And seriously, what’s with the knife? It’s starting to freak him out. 
Satoru knits his brows together. “What are you talking about? You’re being weird. Also, put the knife down before you end up hurting yourself.” 
“Okay. But first, let me show you something.”
You take a hurried step backwards. Satoru still doesn’t understand what’s going on. You’re never this cryptic. It’s throwing him off, and for some reason, he’s getting a bad feeling about all this. 
That bad feeling turns out to be right, because moments later, he watches as you drag the sharp end of the knife across your skin.
“Don’t—!”
Satoru cries out, but it’s already too late. There’s blood everywhere. It’s a deep gash. A serious injury. You’re wincing, looking lightheaded from the pain, as if you’re about to pass out any second. Satoru instinctively knows he has to get help, and yet, he’s too shocked to move. This has never happened before. He’s never watched someone get hurt in front of his eyes—someone he cares deeply about—and been helpless to do anything about it. He’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. A special, chosen existence. But right now, all of that feels pointless, because you’re in pain, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. 
“It’s okay,” you breathe out. “Just… watch.”
Satoru is about to cry out again, more desperately this time, but suddenly, he sees it. 
Your body is… healing?
It’s true. The gash on your arm, the one you just inflicted with the knife, has already fully healed. You pause for a moment, then wipe the blood off your skin, so that he can see more clearly. Sure enough, it’s gone. There’s no trace of the wound that was there a second ago. Almost as if what happened just now was a figment of his imagination.
“Reverse cursed technique,” Satoru mumbles in disbelief. “You… when did you learn how to do this? You never mentioned it before. And I didn’t notice any changes in the flow of your cursed energy, either.”
“I learned it just now.” 
“What?” 
“A few minutes ago. Before you came to find me. All of a sudden, I just knew how to do it. The knowledge appeared in my mind.” 
Satoru frowns. Something isn’t adding up. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is a very complex technique. Few individuals are actually able to pull it off. Even he doesn’t know how to heal himself. But such an ability was able to manifest in you? He supposes it’s not impossible, but given the nature of your cursed energy, and your overall lack of skill… it seems unlikely.
“I wanted to become stronger.” You pause for a moment, then shake your head. “Sorry. I needed to become stronger. So, I did. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but just now, I was able to confirm it.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I think you already suspect it. That I didn’t obtain this ability naturally. I was frustrated that nothing was working, no matter what I did. I just couldn’t seem to improve, regardless of how hard I trained. So, I… took a gamble. I made a Binding Vow.” 
Satoru blinks. “A self-imposed vow?” 
You nod enthusiastically, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Would someone really gain the ability to use positive energy through a simple vow like that? It’s the first Satoru’s ever heard of it. And since healing is a rare, valuable power, most people would love to get their hands on it. If it was that easy, surely everyone would opt to do it, one way or another.
Once again, Satoru has a bad feeling about this. 
“I already knew that by imposing restrictions on yourself, through a Binding Vow, it’s possible to increase your cursed energy and empower your technique,” you say. “I wasn’t sure if it would work for me. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is complicated, after all. I knew I had to make it a pretty serious restriction, in order to have any chance of succeeding. Even then, it still might not have worked.”
You pause yet again, while Satoru’s breath hitches in his throat, and the next second, you’re smiling brightly, like always. 
As you utter the most horrifying words Satoru has ever heard. 
“In exchange for gaining the ability to use reverse cursed technique, I’m never allowed to use my cursed energy to harm anyone else, whether it’s a human or a cursed spirit. And if by some chance I do… I’ll die. Instantly.”
Satoru’s jaw drops open.
“...what?!” 
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ukulelekatie · 2 days
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when I was 4, I broke my leg. if you had asked little baby 4 year old me what the worst part of having a broken leg was, I wouldn’t have mentioned the pain, the the cast, or not being able to get around independently. my biggest concern at the time was that I would be missing 10 weeks of dance class and wouldn’t be able to receive a perfect attendance award at my recital that year.
anyway, the whole reason I’m thinking about this right now is because it just goes to show how early on we incentivize perfect attendance and how this feeds into feeling pressured to work when we’re sick or injured. (and that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the many people who are forced to work when sick or injured, which is evil.) now that I’m an adult, I’m still constantly having to unlearn that and remind myself to rest when I don’t feel well. up until a few years ago, I was the kind of person who would show up to class or work with a cold because it was “just a cold” until the pandemic caused me to re-evaluate the importance of staying home and resting when sick. and this should have been obvious already, but as a result I’ve been learning that resting actually makes me feel better faster than if I had just powered through it.
yesterday morning I woke up with a migraine, and after lots of hemming and hawing (and seeking some validation from trusted friends that it was the right decision), I decided to take a sick day even though it was only a “minor” one and I had worked through many like it before. by early afternoon it was almost completely gone, and I started feeling guilty and worrying that I wasted a whole sick day when I was only sick for a few hours. but then I realized that getting to take some time to lie down with my migraine cap on is probably why it went away so much faster than on the days where I stare at a computer screen for 8 hours in a row. shocking, I know.
so anyway, if you’re reading this, you deserve to rest. yes, even if it’s “not that bad”. even if you can still power through it. your body and mind will thank you later.
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lotuseye · 3 days
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yes, satoru, i will - it's the day of the parade.
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satoru  gojo  and  his  special  grade  sorcerer  ex-wife  are  assigned  to  a  mission  together. part ii , trash magic.
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word   count:   1566.
genre:   multi-chapter.
characters:   satoru gojo & special grade sorcerer ex wife.
trigger   warning:   none.
he is every bit of an annoying ass she remembers him to be.
it was a hard, long, thorny process - her learning curve embarrassingly flat when it came to satoru who indulged himself lavishly with the fruit of being the only person she had ever feel seen with. on par, with. understood with. it had not been what she had pictured for herself, for either of them, to end up with an entire hall filled with things they no longer spoke of, oceans stretching for thousands of miles between them. it wasn’t the divorce, not really - there would have been no divorce in the first place if he was capable of the same empathy she had felt in their youth, or at least what she thought to be empathy, when after loads of paperwork signed seemed like the whim of a teenage boy who did not understand what kind of a commitment he was getting himself into.
now, she could not call satoru someone that could not commit, that could not dedicate, when she has watched him work tirelessly year after year all for a better world for them. when he religiously waited upon suguru, when he stood tall against the upper echelon and when he decided to return to jujutsu high as a teacher, having found his hope in the young. he became the benefactor, mentor, older brother, father - whatever his students needed him to be, without complain, without hesitation. how could she, when he brought megs home, the boy of six with his father's eyes and his zenin pride? no. if she could say that, everything would be much simpler. less filled of heartache.
satoru was perfectly capable of dedication, commitment, and effort.
just not for her.
“ i am going to say something, but i don’t know how well you’ll take it. ” she spits out what she had been imagining rolling out of her tongue for the past half and an hour. she had time to ponder on their walk in the star corridors, having decided to start with the most reasonable option, which was talking to tengen to see if they had any inkling on the problem. that, and also simply checking on them would not hurt, especially considering the unstable frequency of the barriers that kept them all safe and sound, suppressed the emergence of cursed spirits and let the world become a more breathable place for sorcerers, even for a brief moment.
“ look at you considering my feelings, ” pleased and still lighthearted despite the alarming situation at hand, she doesn’t need to look over at him to know that he’s grinning. he wouldn’t, if he knew that she was about to open the box of pandora, but it was what it was - the hazardous bliss of ignorance. she can already taste the regret, bitter in the back of her throat like her very own curse to swallow. footsteps slowing down, yet not coming to a halt, keeping her gaze on the dimly lighted marble.
“ do you think it might have anything to do with the last star plasma vessel? ” she asks, and as soon as it leaves her mouth it sounds like a sane thing to ask and the most horrendous memory she could have brought up for him in the first place. his infinity almost buzzes in her ears, as she ruefully endures the sudden cold that creeps on her bones. he knows what she’s talking about, of course he does. the day he came home with that hollow look in his eyes, the very look that haunted him for years to come. riko amanai’s death cost them a lot more than they could afford, an entirety of a class disintegrating over time, a painful decay & an eventual dissolving in the unforgiving waters of grief.
“ it has been fine over a decade, ” satoru is not offended, but perhaps it would have felt better if he was - anything would be better than the self-hatred that dripped like the petals of a belladonna from his voice, shame and guilt so unbecoming of him. “ if something was wrong, wouldn’t it show itself sooner? ”
a valid question, to which she doesn’t have an answer to but a shrug, now feeling like she’s brought it over for nothing. “ you’re probably right, ” she concludes, now a lot softer than their initial greeting. it can’t be helped, the tenderness she had for him would survive foes greater than anger or disappointment. they were no longer children, and they knew better than to sulk over the unfortunate circumstances they have had to navigate in life. satoru, despite the intentional reservation on her part, was too precious to be discarded with so little care. he had been her best friend, once. “ i’m sorry, i was just thinking about what might have triggered this. ” she offers an apologetic glance, and it is satoru’s turn not to return it, keeping his head straight on the tiles that thud under their each step. “ nah, don’t be. what happened, happened. if you have a point, we can’t ignore it. anyway, ” he grasps the two handles of the doors that lay across him, and pushes it open. “ we’re about to find out. ”
.....
good news was that it wasn't what they feared.
bad news was that it was something much more difficult.
“ any clues on how to get this over with? ” she asks to the six eyes, steps much faster than the ones that brought her here, wishing to be done with the place as soon as possible. tengen creeped her out, and the tomb of the star corridor very shockingly did not make it to the list of her top ten vacation destinations. something about the energy that accumulated in the room overwhelmed her, dialed up to eleven, each cell buzzing with the overload of cursed energy. “ because i don’t know how we are supposed to figure out the problem of tengen glitching because they are losing their touch with humanity. what do we even do? take them outside to go touch some grass? take them out for dinner, roll them up in tinder? ”
he is laughing, and it is absurd - so absurd that she smacks him in the shoulder. “ don’t laugh, ‘toru, this is serious! ” but even as she says it she can’t help but snorting at the visualization of her own suggestion, tengen taking a stroll in the park, waiting for a blind date in the restaurant in the corner. “ tengen in tinder? ” he is still chuckling, and the sound is preciously kept and saved in-between her ribs. “ what does their bio say? foundation of jujutsu society, likes ping pong and fishing? ” and now they are both laughing, and as idiotic as it sounds, she does not remember the last time she laughed in satoru’s presence. “ shut up, satoru, ” she snorts once more, letting the last lights of the day blind her momentarily as they walk out of tengen’s quarters. “  good to know that you’re still an idiot. ”
“ an idiot who you still call ‘toru, ” he drawls out, nudging her ankle with his foot, teasing & coy. she offers him a knowing look. “ old habits die hard, ” she shrugs. “ don’t get any ideas. ”
“ alright, alright. ” hands up in surrender, it takes him a moment to realize she is walking over to the limo that has been waiting up front, the engine starting at the sight of her. she doesn’t need to look over to know satoru is trailing behind her with an arched brow. “ calling it a day already? rude of you to leave me alone. ” she turns halfway just to arch an eyebrow. “ some of us don’t have rct to reset their cooked brain, six eyes. us humble mortals need their beauty sleep to stay so brilliant. ”
before she is done with her sentence satoru’s heavy palm slaps the roof of the car, lanky frame doubling over to take an intrusive peek inside the driver’s seat, ijichi’s meek sound of terror muffled through the windows. “ ijichi, get the fuck out, ” satoru yanks the driver’s door open, gesturing the man outside with a far-fetched grace. “ i’ll be driving her myself. ”
“ but… but the orders were clear… ” ijichi trails, stammering, eyes finding the expected guest of the ride to which the woman replies with placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. “ it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i’ll give you a call when i need you, yeah? ” the urge to apologize on behalf of her ex husband is strong, but if she had attempted to apologize from every single person satoru was rude to she’d never get anywhere ever - so a kind smile is all that is offered and ijichi knows better than to push around. with a nod, he disappears from the sight of them in mere seconds, leaving the estranged couple. satoru, pleased, slides to the other side of the car to now pull the passenger door open, hand extended to her. “ may i take you to your hotel, ma’am? ”
the grin that curls the corners of her maroon glossed lips is absolutely diabolical. “ who said i’m staying at a hotel? ” just the look on his face is enough for her to break it off with a pat on his shoulder, cracking a bright and amused grin, slipping inside the seat. “ i’m just fucking with you, drive me to shoko’s. ”
“ you are not seeing the pearly gates, woman, i tell ya'. ”
© written by lotuseye. do not translate or copy my work.
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happyely3 · 20 hours
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Pairing: [Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader]
Genre/summury: |slice of life|- |Smut| - |fluff| -|Cuddle| - You’ve had a hard day and what you need is to pull the plug completely. Sukuna knows exactly what to do.
Word Count:
Warnings: |18+|smut|Consensual sex| Sukuna brings you to exhaustion| |All characters are of age. This story is +18| Minors don't interact|
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You still couldn’t believe that you were finally back in the two-room apartment you had been sharing with Sukuna for almost three months. Yet you finally arrived, you had closed the door behind you and you threw your backpack and all your art material in the corner of the entrance, you took off your shoes and socks, You threw them into the dirty laundry basket and headed quickly to the kitchen to get something to eat. You opened the fridge and you took a dip in the cold cuts you had opened the night before, grabbing a piadina and composing it quickly, then you took the pan from the shelf above you put everything on the fire to heat that meal quickly. The hunger that had caught you was sudden and the cramps in your stomach were even more painful. "Don’t you say hello anymore?" Sukuna’s voice was a step away from you, her big hands appeared to embrace you from behind your back and her lips settled on your neck in a quick kiss that had left your skin burned at that point. You sighed at that touch, but withheld a groan. "Excuse me, Kuna, but I swear I’m starving." You answered by leaning against his broad chest and turning to kiss him on the cheek, corresponding to the tattoo that marked his jaw. Sukuna laughed slowly turning your piadina to prevent it from burning: "Was it a hard day?" He asked you then as he leaned on your back and inhaled your perfume, as if only your smell could calm him. He loved how the essence that he had given you a long time ago perfectly married to you.
"You can’t imagine. I arrived early to class and fortunately or otherwise I would have had to follow the lesson on the steps, we were too many and in addition the teacher arrived late and to complete the whole lesson made us lose half an hour lunch. The next lesson started soon after and so to not lose my seat I skipped lunch. Then the coffee machine literally left us in thirteen, abandoned us during the history of ancient art lessons! You know what a tragedy this is!" You said, sulking and making your boyfriend laugh. Sukuna has tightened himself to you and you have removed the piadina from the fire. "Then I had a review of a project, and the professor was going to take my world apart. I wanted to kill her!" You concluded by telling how your project had undergone a drastic change and that this would disrupt your exam plans and your timetable. Sukuna left you a kiss on the shoulder, reassuring you that you would still be able to get all your exams on time and if you needed help you could ask him. "You? What day did you have?" You asked while enjoying your snack, lunch, dinner. You didn’t have the strength to cook anything else and would have convinced Sukuna to get something to go. Maybe a good sushi.
"I’ve been in the lab all day, fighting with my colleagues." Sukuna replied by showing you the design of the machine for the exhibition of his mechanical engineering faculty: "Testosterone to never end." He added, making you laugh and imagine the scene in question, among all the colleagues of Sukuna there was a strange competition to be the alpha male: "Also my colleges envy us and they made me understand it in every way possible and imaginable. They still can’t figure out how I have a girlfriend." He added Sukuna by pinching your side slightly to have a bite of the piadina. "Am I in withdrawal?" You laughed by offering him that quick meal and then finishing it quickly to turn towards your boyfriend and hug him. You felt Sukuna’s hands clenching your hips and then coming down on your thighs to lift you up onto the kitchen countertop. "Kunaa!" You moaned as you tied your neck to her and Sukuna laughed hard and kissed your neck, then your jaw and finally your lips in a slow kiss full of passion that left you with an electric shock along the spine. "Please tell me you don’t have any crazy plans or studies for this evening as a program." Sukuna had detached himself from you and you protested against it. His crimson eyes were chained to yours, and your cheeks were red. You were about to answer him when his phone started ringing insistently. Sukuna grunted, hated to be interrupted on important matters. "Fuck you what?" You heard the voices of Sukuna’s colleagues on the phone telling him they had to spend a night finishing the project.
"The deadline is next week, next Friday." He had answered without too many words and raising an eyebrow. You loved it when your man took that expression angry, that expression of test to say only another bullshit and I make you swallow. You bit your lip thinking of that scene. Underneath you wanted to see him lose control and bring out that violent side he reserved only for the people he hated. "I have a life outside of you assholes." He said, emphasizing the last words with a look directed to you, too eloquent and you smiled caressing his forearm with nails at the height of tattoos. Another couple of uncute jokes and Sukuna had cut the call, putting the phone in his pants pocket. You looked at each other for a long moment and then burst into laughter when the ring of both of them was sounded again, simultaneously with your home phone. "Motherfuckers I kill." He said Sukuna, closing the phone and taking off the home phone. You took your phone and looked at the number of one of his colleagues, you looked at each other and answered the call. "Hi, Sukuna is with me, we are busy at the moment." You answered by continuing to stare at your boyfriend and enjoying the smile that was forming on his lips. Sukuna loved it when you played the flirtatious and sweet girlfriend in front of her colleagues, she could feel their frustration at that very moment when your voice became more seductive and sexy when you said her name. How much they could be at that moment.
"No, the deadline is Friday, you have also put the image as profile whatsapp of the group." You insisted with a fluffy voice, Sukuna came to bite you in the neck and you let slip a sigh that could not be misconstrued. "Sorry but we have to go and discuss." You said finally closing the call and pulling slightly Sukuna’s hair. "What else did they want?" asked Sukuna taking both your phones and putting them in airplane mode. "Nothing important, they said they wanted to kill you because you couldn’t give them up for the project for me." You answered by kissing the tip of his nose and grinning: "They also added things that are not very nice and very disgraceful." And the look of Sukuna filled with pleasure. "Fuck you, you’re my priority, baby doll." Sukuna picked you up and you held him like a koala, kissed you more than before and you scratched his neck muscles to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed, but it was a fight that you knew you couldn’t win. You have made your way without wasting time into your bedroom. The windows were down and the only lamp on was the one that recreated the sunset light, the one you had insisted on since you saw it in an Instagram video. Sukuna didn’t waste any time, she kicked the door shut and put you on the bed, you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of clean sheets on your skin and opened them again when you heard the notes of the playlist that you and Sukuna had created for home.
You smiled for that moment. It was just you, the rest of the world didn’t exist. Sukuna was at the foot of the mattress and looked at you with his naked eyes. His shirt lay at the foot of the bed and the soft orange light highlighted his muscles and tattoos, you watched carefully the ink segments descend down her abdomen to the V of the groin and you licked your lips while with your fingers slowly caressing your boyfriend’s sculpted abs. You got up and knelt on the edge of your bed while Sukuna unlaced the buttons of your overalls and slowly started to strip you, you bent your back to help him get undressed and in the meantime you unlaced his pants belt. When your clothes are all over you have come even closer to Sukuna and keeping the gaze fixed on him you had dropped the zip of his jeans taking it with your mouth. You had, then, left a quick kiss on the bulge of his black boxer making him sigh and laugh with that smile that made you so crazy and shivering between your legs. "What a diligent girl we have here." she said, caressing your cheek and playing with your softness. You leaned on his hand groping and closed your eyes sighing: "I have a boy who devotes a lot of attention to me, it is right that I be diligent with him." You were left with only the white sweater and matching lace panties, hair strewn on the mattress and Sukuna above you, you could feel the warmth of her skin and its intoxicating scent flooding your nostrils, you squeezed it to yourself to continue enjoying that heat. His gaze set you on fire and his touch amplified all your senses.
You kissed with a new fire, seeking your tongues and fighting until the last breath before detaching again and looking hard. In those moments you loved even more the eye tattoos that your boyfriend had made on his cheekbones. Four eyes that only looked at you. Four red eyes that hypnotised you more and more and warmed your core in a way you couldn’t explain. "No bra on?" Sukuna asked, lifting up the crop top you wore that day in a rush to run to university and letting your breasts bounce free and not forced into that cramped garment, out of the room air. "With this shirt I risk not breathing as tight… Kunaaa…" You sighed when her rough hands leaned over your breast and began massaging it, slowly and in circular motions. You felt spoiled for those attentions. You were very large and often the bras you wore hurt, crushed your breasts and left deep marks on your skin. Quite a few times Sukuna had taken you by the shoulders and with the appropriate creams he had massaged your breasts to give you some comfort. "What a brat." said the man while lightly blowing on his nipples making them harden even more and sighing you. You instinctively spread your legs to feel his presence better, but his boxers and your panties did not help. You felt that bulge and wanted it inside you to forget all the stressful day you had.
A day you would have gladly replaced with one in which Sukuna was inside of you, filling you up completely. You scratched Sukuna’s shoulders when his mouth settled on your nipple starting to suck it while the other hand took to play with the other, and then you were the brat. Sukuna was like a hungry child at that time. The background music was so intense that you were stunned by all that attention, because every song you had chosen was perfect for sex and you both knew it. You tried to move but your boyfriend stopped you, with his left arm and went down to your core to start stimulating it from the outside, doing a simple movement over the panties. Up and down, middle and forefinger moved slowly pressing a little more when they were close to your clitoris and making you sigh loudly while Sukuna’s mouth was busy sucking hard on your martoriated nipple. You scratched his neck when you felt his fingers apply more pressure on your opening just to tease it a little bit and you bent your back a little bit more until the sudden orgasm hit you as Sukuna touched your clit again. You screamed loudly, arching your back and poking your feet on the mattress, quickly being invaded by that euphoric sensation typical of orgasm, you felt your body light and tense at the same time and then collapse on the mattress. The arms of Sukuna held you and now they lulled you. "I didn’t think you were so involved, brat." Sukuna broke off your nipple leaving only a trickle of saliva as the only link. You sighed again when his two big fingers moved on the soaked cloth and you struggled to keep your eyes open.
"I had a heavy day Sukuna…" You replied by taking his face in your hands and then kissing him on the Adam’s apple. Sukuna has embraced you, wrapping her free arm around your hips and enjoying the flickering of your body against hers, savoring every inch of your two curves and your toned physique in contact with hers. He missed you during the heavy day that he had had during group work and the only thing he could think of was to come home, pick you up and make love with you all night and the next morning, excluding the world around. "Let’s make this day better." He sighed near your ear and made you string like a violin string. You bit your lip as you slightly moved away from Sukuna and with your hands you went down his tense muscles, massaging them with your fingertips to then go down to his boxers. You kissed the muscles of his groin and with a calm that you didn’t know you had, you slowly took off his last clothes letting out his cock. It was hard, harder than marble and with veins in evidence and great. He needed care and attention you thought as you licked your lips and laid a light kiss on the dark chapel. "You’re playing dirty…" Sukuna had lifted your hair and held it in his grip. You smiled at that joke and kept on leaving wet kisses all along its length, focusing more on some points and biting the most sensitive ones just to hear your boyfriend’s moaning. Sukuna’s grip had become stronger on your hair as the free hand began to caress your back.
"What a good little bratt…" You felt as if Sukuna was tense and holding on to make the pleasure even longer and unload away the tension that had settled on both your bodies in that stressful day. You were sweaty and both warmed up and soon your condition would get worse. You took it all in one shot, risking to hurt yourself and but you were rewarded by the moan of pure pleasure that came out of your boyfriend’s mouth when you slammed his groin on the tip of your nose. You breathed its strong smell and with tears in your eyes you started moving at an average fast pace as you felt the muscles of Sukuna stiffening and the grip of your boyfriend becoming even stronger. Sukuna looked down at you, he watched his girlfriend crouching on the bed trying to give him pleasure and had not resisted any longer. He had blocked you and then lifted you slightly protesting that you were having fun and he laughed softly before kissing you again and taking you under him. You ended up on the opposite side of the bed and screamed when Sukuna quickly took off your panties and threw them across the room and then started licking your pussy greedily.
"So wet just for me…" And you cried out with pleasure when the tongue of Sukuna crept into you, softening your inner walls. "Ryo…" You whimpered as you felt the grip of his hands getting stronger on your thighs, leaving you with red marks. Sukuna didn’t leave you time to recover, he wanted to make a mess even more inviting, he wanted to eat you and drink every single drop of you. One of his hands has been clenching around one of your nipples while the other kept firmly clutching your thigh. Sukuna’s eyes were focused on your pussy along with her tongue, but the tattooed eyes were fixed on you. You knew they were fake, but it was as if Sukuna knew exactly what to do because he had that look on you and you couldn’t resist any longer when you felt two of his fingers creep inside you while his tongue continued to give you pleasure. You came abundantly on her mouth as Sukuna drank you avidly and continued to curl her fingers inside of you to give you even more pleasure and to look for that point that made you crazy. You tried to stop him, ask for a truce by pulling his pink hair but your boyfriend had not moved, he was enjoying the best meal that could happen. "Ryomen… Ryo… Ryo…" You called his name when his fingers met the point he was looking for, the one that made you jump forward and almost jump on the spot when Sukuna hit him several times in a row and at that moment you saw the stars.
The orgasm that took you made you tremble all, the scream of pleasure stuck in your throat and tears came down your cheeks for that stimulation so strong, into your soul deeper and fell on the mattress, Gasping and trying to inhale as much oxygen as possible to try to recover. Sukuna was still close to your core, eyes full of lust and satisfaction, with a note of malice that made you inspire even more deeply. You have pulled Sukuna towards you, in an even more fiery kiss and felt your taste on her lips, on her tongue. You have changed position, in the middle of the bed, you under him and Sukuna who overlaid you with all his beautiful and perfect carved head. And then you felt it enter inside of you, despite the long preparation you had to take it all. You held him tight and Sukuna lifted you slightly, harpooning your butt, to enter with ease. Centimeter by centimeter has entered inside you and for a moment you felt like you were going to faint because of the pleasure that you felt inside you. "Ryo…" you sighed, scratching his shoulders and biting his ear lobe. You heard him tremble and sighing in the hollow of your neck and then bite it hard and make you scream with pleasure as he started pumping his length inside you. You pointed your feet and moved your pelvis to try to respond to his movements, but your legs were soft and every time Sukuna sank inside of you it hit that damned point that made you go into ecstasy.
Sukuna bit his lip to keep his focus and you bit his neck to distract him and then kissed each other moaning in the other’s mouth. You kept on in that pose for a while until you felt a hankering getting closer and closer and you got close to Sukuna so as not to lose your balance. Sukuna kissed you praising your body as it kept moving inside of you, riding your orgasm slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls holding it so tight. You changed positions while you exchanged another kiss, now you were above him and dictated the rhythm to yourself, still feeling the thrill of the previous moment descend down your spine. You put your hands on his pecs and touched his nipples quickly, while Sukuna approached yours to suck both of them, his hands were resting at the base of your back and holding you so close to him that it created a tight rhythm, Fast and needy and muffled every time your crotch met and joined together. Your breath was irregular, and you closed your eyes many times to try to resist and not faint. It was so hard and tense that you still wondered how you had managed to take it so well and how he could still resist, you had seen his pre-season liquid by the way and it was so abundant that you waited anxiously for the moment when it would pour out inside you.
You have swung in bed once again, ruining the blankets and dropping the pillows. You were on your stomach and Sukuna was penetrating behind you, holding your arms steady behind your back with one of his hands, while the other had harpooned your buttocks to find a firm grip as it pushed into you. You felt your walls tighten tighter and tighter every time her cock came in and out of you, and Sukuna knew how to tease you by staying out for a few seconds before coming back in harder and starting to constantly hit your center. "Ryo… inside…" You said feeling the limit getting closer and closer, you were close to the fourth orgasm of that night and Sukuna’s movements had become increasingly confused and ferocious. "How you want, little bratt… ah…" Sukuna has stooped down upon you, using his hand to harpoon your side and not to depart from you. Your shadows on the wall evoked the image of two animals that were mating and it was that common thought that gave you the coup de grace. You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring out copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came.
You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came. You squatted on the mattress, your breaths were tight but neither of you wanted to detach from the other. "You want to do another lap, you little brat." The roaring voice of Sukuna had made you partly recover, you still felt it hard inside you, despite he kept coming and pouring his semen into your womb. Your eyes were full of tears, your body was aching with pleasure, but you nodded and felt the grip on your hands become less strong. Sukuna was towering over you, his hands were holding your hips and his pelvis dictating a rhythm. "Ryo… please… do… do…" You tried to say something but the bite that came on your neck made you moan loudly, your voice outweighed the notes of the speakers as much as that gesture was unexpected. You felt his fangs sink into your flesh and his thrusts become stronger. You have tightened the blankets to try to resist all that sudden pleasure and felt it again coming inside you, even stronger than before. "What’s he doing, baby?" she asked you while licking the mark of her teeth while with well-placed lunges she kept stimulating your pussy. "It’s good…" You answered by turning to kiss him. "And then it will make you feel even better." Her hand had descended into your intimacy, rubbing against your clitoris and beginning to stimulate it again. You were too sensitive and your orgasm was so strong that you saw the stars at that moment. And you hadn’t finished yet.
"I can’t feel my legs Kuna." You said as you tried to get up, but you gave up right after. Your legs seemed to be made of jelly and your sex was pulsating painfully. Sukuna was beside you and stroked your back, smiling at those words. "I did a good job." Your boyfriend said, leaving you with a kiss on the shoulder and grinning. But he couldn’t get up in that moment, still buried inside you, he would never leave that place for any reason. "Mmmhh…" You tried to say something, but the tiredness was getting felt. "Yeah, let’s order some sushi and watch it on TV." Sukuna answered by caressing your back and reluctantly leaving to take the phone and order to go. "You’re the best." You said by kissing his hand and standing up slowly in turn to go to the bathroom next to your room and preparing the necessary for a shower. You’ve been stuck to the many notifications of missed messages and calls to burst out laughing. Sukuna took you for life and brought you back to bed, kissing you until you lost control again. You then heard the phone snap and turned your eyes to the camera, in the photo that captured you hugging each other in that obscene kiss. You couldn’t see any part of your body, you could just see something that left room for imagination. "What are you doing?" you asked, playing with his lip and sucking it slowly. "I send her to my study group to make them keep quiet." Your boyfriend said kissing you again. "You should send one more obscene." You answered by making him laugh and curl up over you.
"I infected you." He said whispering those words in your ear. "Maybe yes…" You answered looking straight into his eyes and smiling back, a smile full of all that you felt for him. "Honey?" Sukuna never used those affectionate names with you, he always used something that taunted you. "Yes Kuna?" You answered by taking his face in your hands and staring into his eyes. "I love you." He never said those words to you before and your heart filled with happiness. "I love you too." You replied kissing him with a flurry and holding yourself tight to him.
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peacheeeliz · 2 days
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004. what the fuck am i chopped liver (wc: 653)
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Mark sits on the steps outside of the library, picking at the skin around his fingernails. He waited as the sun dipped down below the horizon, and the mass of students slowly disappeared from campus. No matter how mad he was at Hyuck and Julie, he was still their ride home. After sitting there for not even ten minutes, he hears the front doors open behind him.
He hears the quiet sound of footsteps approaching him before Jiwoong sits down on the steps beside him. He rolls his eyes, turning away from the older man. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
“You know, back when I was in high school, there was this classmate of mine that I found insanely cute,” Jiwoong starts, ignoring Mark’s question. He hears Mark groan but continues anyway. “I tried everything to get their attention, to get the chance to talk to them.”
“What, you didn't try to fake a study group for them?” Mark jokes, letting out a pained laugh. He rolls his eyes again, “because, I don't know if you know, but it works soooo well.”
Jiwoong lets out a light chuckle at his comment, shaking his head. “No, but I would definitely give you an A for effort,” he tells the younger man. “I actually stopped seeing them as some eye candy for me to, I don't know, seek after. I started seeking out true friendship with them.”
“And how did that work out?” Mark scoffs, crossing his arms. Despite how distracted he was listening to Jiwoong speak, he still heard the door behind them quietly opening again and the soft shuffle of a few pairs of feet.
“They're now one of my closest friends,” Jiwoong answers, finally meeting Mark's eyes. He sees them slowly soften as he looks behind the two of them, meeting your eyes as you and the rest of the study group join them on those steps. “And I wouldn't want it any other way.”
“But don't you ever wish that you two could be something more?” Mark questions, finally interested in Jiwoong’s short story.
Jiwoong smiles softly at him, patting his back before he stands up. “Why don’t we actually get some studying in? You know, since we still have the study room for a while.” He avoids Mark's question, joining the others as they scramble back inside. All except you.
He watches as you pull yourself forward, sitting down and joining him on the steps. He cracks a smile, leaning in to nudge your shoulder with his own. “So much for a study group, huh? You just can't resist me,” he teases, watching your eyes roll.
“I'm only out here because they weren't studying whatsoever,” you reply, avoiding his eyes. “They were just complaining about how hard it is to learn the language, but they're not actually taking time to learn it.”
“Excuses, excuses,” he continues, catching the way the corner of your lips turns upwards. “You don’t have to lie, you’re infatuated with me already.”
You burst out laughing at his words, and his cocky smile disappears as you struggle to regain composure. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re not into me,” he pauses, sending you a wink. “Yet.”
“In your dreams, lover boy,” you respond, shaking your head. Like Jiwoong, you softly pat his back. “Let's go and actually study. How does that sound?”
He stands up, reaching out his hand to help you back up. “Only if you're okay with just being friends,” he answers, leaning down to leave a gentle kiss against the back of your hand. “Jiwoong's orders.”
You roll your eyes, but your smile remains as you let go of his hand. “Think you're going to have a bigger problem with that than I am,” you throw back, leading him back into the library.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he says to himself, taking in a deep breath before he follows after you.
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synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?
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tuesday again 9/24/2024
you might be wondering “is my dear friend tumblr user girlfriendsofthegalaxy still unemployed?” the answer is yes. take this cat off my hands please i don’t think he’s causing the unemployment but he certainly isn’t helping
listening
via Wendy @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, Huoy Meas' ប្រគល់ក្ដីស្នេហ៍មកខ្ញុំវិញ. figuring out what this incredibly zippy Cambodian rock song is named and what it's about was really difficult bc spotify is a bane upon this earth and won't let you fucking copy-paste and OCR was not working on the Khmer script. i ended up listening to the first couple seconds of each of her songs on apple music, and finally figured out this roughly translates to Give Me Back My Love and is about begging a fuckboy for closure.
youtube
via the spotify discover weekly, Night Club's Pretty Girls Do Ugly Things. all Night Club's songs sound the same so if you like one, great news! i had this song on for a full gregorian hour bc, i am only a tiny bit ashamed to say, i was storyboarding a The Man With No Name fancam to this. i think it would go pretty hard.
Smoke you like a cigarette Choke you like a lariat Fatalistic tourniquet Do you want more?
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reading
thank you mackintosh.
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i did not Adore any of these comics from the library. i sort of enjoyed Night of the Ghoul, a one-volume TPB by Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. i think ive blogged about this before but every once in a while i'll get a bee in my bonnet to read some horror comics even though i am a giant baby about horror movies.
Night of the Ghoul is about how you can't save your dad from PTSD but also about a lost horror film and also about the extremely dad behavior of tracking down every scrap of info about an auteur. there's also a monster.
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the subtle art changes from present day to the remains of the film to the non-film flashbacks are well done, imo. the cover screams mignola but the inside pages are really fun pulp nonsense. i love a piece of genre writing that rolls around and delights in being a piece of genre writing.
im doing my level best not to get sucked into tiktok but i DO love watching this lady revive antique nail polish and look for dupes for shades from like the 20s. she found an almost exact dupe for a shade produced during wwii which is crazy insane to me!!!
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watching
The Asphalt Jungle (1950, dir. Huston), it's a very painterly heist noir. i even like Sterling Hayden in one of the more prominent roles, even though i think he generally has the appeal of undercooked dough.
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much like Fritz Lang's M, it presents the criminal element of the city as its own class with its own reputation and reference systems. it got in some trouble with the censors for having a VERY clearly laid out heist plan and execution. it's also got the babiest Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest roles
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this was such a gloriously messy movie. everyone is such a fucking mess. this woman only known as Doll is heartbreakingly, head over heels in love with Sterling Hayden's character. she's a little flighty and bumbling and silly, but determined! they're constantly orbiting the gravitational weight of her desire for this man and desire for a real life with this man. and that's just one subplot! she has maybe five minutes total screentime! she should have gotten a supporting actress oscar!!! everyone acted their fucking hearts out and it was so much fun to watch!
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playing
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monument valley is in the netflix games library this month (i don't actually know what their liscencing agreements would even look like, they and the studios they worked with were very tightlipped about that when they were rolling this out three years ago) but i assume it's going to be on the service for a while. i have never played this game, which makes me feel a little bit like a bad gamer. you can tell it's ten years old from some of the color and texture choices, but WOW did literally everyone take inspiration from this game.
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this is the platonic ideal of a phone game. i get why everyone went insane about it and there was a brief boom of geometry-based puzzle mobile games. it is MUCH much harder now to get people to pay money to play a game that has a planned endpoint and planned number of levels, so netflix is a good home for it.
i was often frustrated but always delighted. the level below involves making something happening that made me genuinely gasp out loud in glee. well worth the annoyance of downloading the netflix app and scrolling through the poorly labeled and poorly sorted carousel of games.
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great retrospective, a bit about how you need to have tiny teams go off and just kind of fuck around and bring weird stuff back, and a lot about how they actually designed the levels
The end result had a pixel-perfect axonometric aesthetic that not only went hard on its references to Dutch master artist and printmaker Maurits Cornelis Escher, but also dug deep into classic video game design, going right back to early arcade machines and 8-bit titles. Each of the ten levels is like a piece of fine furniture, built with invisible dovetail joints and inlaid with marquetry, stuffed with secret compartments and little design flourishes. Gray cites the world of theatre and stage design, as well as graphics, as important keystones in the way the levels were constructed. ‘Ken would always talk about flower arranging, and how you frame a silhouette of a level on the screen,’ he says.
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making
update on the Phantom Menace fabric: pinked the raw edges and threw it in the laundry again with a very large quantity of vinegar. 50% poly was too high for it to really do anything, which is interesting. it didn’t lessen the seam edge effects either, which is a little annoying bc the seams were so gigantic and that’s a good chunk of fabric to lose. i am going to buy a camp shirt pattern at some point when i have money again but for now it goes in The Box
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also! thrifted a pack of o-rings for jars for a dollar and finally put my grains etc in my pretty jars. they’re going to live in the pantry but today they live out on the countertop
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Hii! I just found your works and I am IN LOVEEEE OMGGG 🫶🫶
I’m not too good at requesting these things, but could I ask for a Logan Howlett x short! AFAB reader?
I’m 4’11 and haven’t grown since sophomore year of high school, and everyone I know comments on it in every sort of way, and usually in a demeaning, teasing kind of way. (Like, going out of their way to make fun of me and stuff I can’t do, or how they can’t take me seriously). And no one listens to me when I tell them that it’s starting to hurt my feelings or be annoying lol
It can be a full fic or just a couple HC’s, up to you!!! Please take your time and don’t forget to take care of yourself 🫶
YES OFC I wish I got more asks bru
Anyway thank you
Tw ⚠ : short reader, afab reader, sexual tension, sexual talking, protective logan, masturbation (f),
You lay in you bed not wanting to go downstairs, logan had been gone for days on a mission for Xavier to find another mutant and she had to sub for Storm because because there both gone.
Logan was supposed to call you after class so you reluctantly got up got dressed and went downstairs to the classroom, you always hated leaving your room without Logan he was practically your bodyguard because of how some of the other girls treated you because of your hight you are 4'11 after all and they always told you she looked like a kid but when logan stepped in they left you alone.
There was even a time when you almost threw the girl into the fountain for bullying her but logan put a stop to it ever since then he always took a liking to you.
You made it to the classroom with no run-ins land waited for your students to show up for class you were teaching how to control your powers with mind, body and soul.
Storm is better then me with children
You thought to yourself as the kids started walking in, you waved at them as they took there seats and began your lesson.
After you were done you got a call from logan.
"Hey bub." He talked into the phone, you looked down at the floor wishing he was here instead.
"I'm really hungry,but the kids were fine," you walked back to your room. "And I miss you when will you be back?"
He looked around the hotel. "Me and the others should be back tomorrow afternoon." You laid in bed and looked at his side.
"I want you so bad loagn I wish you were here with me," he regretted taking this mission knowing it would be stressful for you. "Touching me, and telling me I'm yours." You moaned into the phone.
His pants tightened thinking of you laying on your bed waiting for him.
"Trust me honey I'll be there soon enough, now sit and be a good girl for me when I get back I love you." He hung up the phone after your goodbyes
And you sat there trying to fall asleep but after three hours you just gave up, you couldn't stop thinking about Logan and the way he would have gotten you to sleep, rubbing your back and your thighs.
I wonder what he would do to me right now ?
You thought to yourself as you rubbed your inner thigh, your hand had other plans when it started rubbing your clit thinking about him
You picked up your phone to call him and see if he's awake, turns out he was
"Logan." You moaned, he could here the wet sounds from the other end of the line.
"Y/n you need to go to bed, I can't talk there gonna here you." He quietly yelled at you.
"No please I need you now loagn I can't wait any longer." You mewled.
"Y/n please you need to wait So i can actually fuck you." Logan couldn't lie the thought of you playing with yourself was making him hard but he had to control himself or he was gonna wake up Storm.
Your orgasm was coming, and he knew it. "Baby, I want you inside me, please." You begged as you came over the phone.
He hated when you did this sometimes you always got what you wanted when you called him like this and he wasn't gonna just let you tease him he wants to touch you but your not here and he's gonna put a stop to it.
"Y/n stop calling me horny when you know I can't touch you like I want, your teasing me your gonne be the death of me." He hung up the phone.
You gasped not believing he just hung up the phone on you like that.
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Ok how do we feel about me writing logan I love hugh jackman and I was waiting for something like this should I make a part two?
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