#next one shot

[writtenbyan-aries]

Up next:

Summary: Sam and reader’s relationship is fairly new. They’ve been keeping it a secret from everyone, even Colby. But, it soon gets unveiled to him by some tricksters that spook Sam and reader during their investigation.

This is more of a comedy read, with a dash of smut, also not a request.

[georgiapeach30513]

[jojaxcola]

lunch break ("are you in your f-") ("shut the fuck up")

[jojamart mockumentary #7]

[ prev || next ]

[courtmartialme]

baby au in beach episode :^)

[poissond-avril]

he has the eyes of a neglected hamster

[nutsack90]

this is Good news we can BE bees

[mullermilkshake]

Settle in with me

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

After the results of the programme in hopes of producing future hunters, Jinwoo takes the lead.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - mentions of breeding,Dirty thoughts,Jealousy,kissing,Jinwoo really wants to fuck you,Forced pairing for breeding,Kinda role playing,Little mentions of squirting and other sexual acts,Mentions of pregnancy and impregnation

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

The results of the pairings had been delayed due to a tragedy.

“We apologise for the delay, due to the loss of one of our association members, we had to wait until we could access the sensitive information. A formal enquiry is being made in the meantime and it’s being treated as suspicious.”

“To think we had such bad news right on our doorstep. At a time like this too.” Hunter Choi took off his glasses and cleaned them with dismay and pursed lips.

Jinwoo walked right through without issue for that information. Stealth made it way too easy. Still, he feigned surprise. “Why would someone do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

You remained silent, spacing out at the table, sitting next to Jinwoo this time. Baek slammed his fist on the table and it never even made you flinch. “Of course it makes no sense, it’s just information on who’s sleeping with who essentially-”

“Please, don’t be so crude.” Hunter Cha snapped, wiping away the invisible smell with her handkerchief. “We’re all affected by this, a man is dead. And… we’re all affected.” Her voice trailed off, she realised her outburst was seen by everyone, including the Chairman.

Jinwoo sat back and watched, awaiting the news with the excitement of carrying out his year-long quest. He’d have you soon enough, he only hoped you would do so willingly.

“Can we… Can we just get this over with now while the investigation is underway? I’d really like to go now.” You said, finally participating, fiddling with your fingers under the table because you just didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“I think so too.” Jinwoo interjected the tension and flashed you a sympathetic look. “There’s nothing we can do right now and I think we’d all like to get on with things so we can settle in, right?”

“Exactly, Hunter Sung, while we can grieve those who make the Hunters association smooth like a machine, we must carry on.” Chairman Go pulled out a sheet of paper, a small one at that, practically insignificant. “I have here the latest results for the trial period of S-Ranked Hunters set to participate in the programme, I’ll read it out as follows.”

Jinwoo picked up on your heightened breathing immediately, trembling fingers knotted together and holding on for dear life. Anticipating the future of the Hunter’s association.

“Hunter Cha will be paired with Hunter Choi. Which leaves…” When your name graced the Chairman’s lips, you watched the man’s soft facade with anticipation. “You will be paired with Hunter Sung.”

There was nothing to be said about the elephant in the room, well, the entire room was the elephant. Jinwoo sat with a wash of relief though stifled it for now. A matter of hours and he’d potentially be balls deep inside you ready to blow his first load inside you… for the good of the association, the country, his fellow Hunters and guild members.

“This will be effective immediately, so you should gather your things and return to headquarters later tonight for your keys and accommodation. I am appreciative of all the hard work you do and what more you’ll be sacrificing for this country and the association.”

Jinwoo liked the ring to that, effective immediately.

After the Chairman left, Baek slouched back into his chair and whistled. “I wasn’t sure which one of us it was going to be, but I didn’t think it would be both of you. Ugh, things are going to get weird around here.”

Choi was naturally flustered, but his rivalry with Baek pushed past the initial shock. “I think it’s a valiant effort, maybe that’s why you weren’t asked to do it. Nevermind.”

Baek growled. “Watch it buddy-”

“Ugh, was there any point in us even being here? I came all this way for nothing.” Hunter Lim had not said one word the entire meeting, shrugging off whatever words and consternation entered the room. He and Hunter Ma were not present the last time the S-Rank hunters were together.

Hunter Ma sat watching the two boil over in their feud. “I guess we just gotta do it then, no point in fightin’ amongst ourselves.”

You and Cha were silent, unmoving and weighted down in the boardroom chairs, the gravity of it all getting more heavy with each ragged breath amongst the inhouse fighting. 

Jinwoo never took your silence as an insult, in honesty, he never wanted it to be this way between you and him. He hoped with time you’d take to him as much as he understood Cha was with him. The bonus being that it would just accelerate things and give him a head start on his quest.

“You think you’re the shit now because you might have an S-Rank baby? Heh, we’ll see about that.”

“Guys, stop it!” Banging your fist on the table got Choi and Baek to stop their squabbling temporarily, everyone looked right at you in pin drop silence. “This is hard enough as it is without you two fighting. Things are going to change around here and we have to just… get used to it. Please don’t make this any more complicated than it has to be.”

Then, you walked out, taking Hunter Cha with you.

Now, the men pouted or sat around in the swivel chairs waiting for someone to speak and break the silence.

“I bet you’re happy, huh, Jinwoo?” Lim rested his chin on his balled fist over the table. “She’s pretty, but doesn’t Jong-In have a crush on her?”

“Uh… hold on a second.” Choi adjusted his glasses and cleared the truth from him throat awkwardly. “Firstly, a crush? We’re adults. Secondly, I admit to no such thing, we’re quite good friends, actually. It’s quite that simple and while I think I would have suited her well, the computer chose Hunter Sung, so I won’t protest. Thirdly, although not lastly, Hunter Cha is also a good candidate, gentlemen.”

Jinwoo noticed the mild resentment behind his mask, it slipped ever so slightly before regaining its control of his face again. Jong-In Choi was a kind man, everybody knew that, the goodness in his soul was something Jinwoo admired from time to time. A trait he wouldn’t ever fully grasp again after slipping between the line of right and wrong. 

But man, was he easy to read.

The association member Jinwoo killed wasn’t the first man, he also wasn’t remorseful in the slightest at the sight of his dead body on the ground. Although he hoped it wasn’t necessary, it was to secure your name. So all in all, not a wasted journey.

Murder… A trait he gained in which he hoped to work on, but recently, Jinwoo found himself wanting to leave it fester. That’s where all of his sudden intrusive thoughts showed themselves. Although right now, seeing Choi so flustered over you should make him want to do something to the man, even if it was just harsh words for the time being, what saved him was having you paired with him and not Choi. The saving grace in this scenario. Something he could inaudibly shove in his face and no one be none the wiser.

But he knew if push came to shove, he could kill Choi easy.

Jinwoo smiled sweetly to the room. “Well, while it’s unorthodox they want us to do this, I know me and her will make a good team, just like Hunter Cha and Choi will.”

���A true political answer, good job, Jinwoo.” Lim patted him in the back and threw his hands in his pockets. “But I’m out of here now so enjoy doing whatever in the bedroom.”

“You’re leaving already?” Baek stopped any annoyance and rolled his chair away from Choi a fraction and studied Hunter Lim’s relaxed trudge towards the door.

“Yeah, There was no point us being here if they weren’t going to pair us off with any of the A-Ranks at least or something, they really only needed Jong-In and Jinwoo for the announcement. No one wants to know what sort of kinky stuff they’ll be getting up to, we just continue life as normal. And I have a guild to run, see ya.”

“What’s up with that guy today?”

“He’s right, I gotta guild to run too, see ya!” Ma strolled out of the room without putting his two pence in and closed the door behind him with an untenable pressure pulsing with uncertainty.

“I guess I’ll go too then. I have to go and pack.” Jinwoo stood up without much resistance from the other two.

“I’ll see you later then, Hunter Sung.” Choi smoothed down his suit and left it at that.

Jinwoo walked through headquarters with elation, holding back his smile as soon as he heard you talking with Cha in the hallway. He stopped and listened in the shadows with stealth, not that you would be fooled by that at all. Your perception was far too high.

“It’ll be alright, because we’ll do this together. Shit… okay, okay. We’ll do this, one kid and we’ll bow out. That’s what the chairman said.”

Cha was panicked, trying to control her breathing from behind the stairwell. “Is this really the right thing, though? I can’t help but feel used. How could I look at a baby and just give it away?”

You however, were much calmer, like you had accepted your future path. “You’re right, I feel the same way. At least you’ll be with Jong-In, he’s a real sweet guy. I’m… I’m sorry you weren’t put with Jinwoo. I know you like him.”

Hae-In Cha made her obvious feelings subtle to everyone else, but Jinwoo saw right through them given enough time. He kept it secret, chasing you instead and giving Cha no reason to extend that olive branch. Jinwoo just wasn’t interested. She was a skilled S-Rank hunter for sure, impressive and beautiful, but you… you were something else. And still exploring your abilities to this day.

A point Jinwoo rarely brought up in his mind, that you were incredibly useful to him.

Cha’s breath stuck in her throat, Jinwoo stepped closer to see her expression. “Uh… n-no! I don’t- I mean… well, yeah, I kind of do. But there’s nothing to be done about it. It’s just sex, right?”

Wrong . It wasn’t just sex, not for Jinwoo.

You went in to speak but hesitated, turning your head in Jinwoo’s direction with a scowl, you just missed him.

“What is it?” Cha questioned, her tone softer than before.

“Uh… I-I’m not sure, I thought I saw- listen, just think of it that way. It’s just sex, and hopefully we can do this as quickly as possible. No growing pains, just our jobs. Together, alright?”

It wasn’t just sex. Jinwoo would make that clear every time he fucked you, made you come and forced his name on your lips so loud Jong-In Choi would hear down the hall.

And by that night, when Jinwoo heard the requirements for the programme, ‘At least three times a week, but most nights if you can, depending on your schedules. We’ll try to make them less conflicting as possible’. 

Yeah, life looked pretty interesting from here on out.

He’d fuck you every night, no problem, to train you to see just how much you needed him despite your independence.

When the door of the little apartment on top of headquarters closed for the first time behind you, Jinwoo’s web had started weaving. You were so beautiful in the moonlight of the darkened apartment, saying goodbye to Jong-In and Hae-In as they disappeared into their own space. It was more intimate now among the S-Ranks, using first names wholeheartedly like neighbours and friends instead of hunters.

It was all very domesticated.

“So…” You said, clearly ruminating on the path that brought you here.

Jinwoo could see it in your eyes, that doe eyed little stare anxiously darting about the room and everywhere but him.

“So… Uh, you can look at me, y’know?” Jinwo wanted you to look at him the way Jong-In looked at you.

He made it his personal quest, and seeing the system's quest progress unmoved bothered him. Not the best start to an evening, he wondered how to bring you more at ease. Jinwoo waited this long to be in this type of situation and he wasn’t giving up with the opportunity of fucking you senseless and having you all to himself.

“S-sorry, I just don’t really know where to go from here without making it weird.”

Awkward, pressured, even artificial? Maybe. Weird? Never.

“Is this your first time, or?”

You struggled to stifle your gasp in the dark room and shuffled about a bit. “What? N-no I’ve had sex before, Jinwoo.”

He rubbed his neck and feigned embarrassment. “Sorry- bad start. I just wanted to gauge your boundaries. I don’t want to cross any unintentionally.” 

More than I already have. That’ll come with time, then she'll be thanking me for doing it.

“Ah crap… what the fuck, Jinwoo. I never thought we’d be in this position.” Hearing your sweet huff of that bratty frustration he knew you were capable of turned him on. “Hae-In really likes you- but you can’t say anything because she made me promise not to tell you, but this feels wrong… it feels…”

What words would you utter? Jinwoo would use perfect, or extraordinary. Nothing negative like you wanted to use.

“She likes you. It’s like I’m betraying her.”

“Look.” Jinwoo changed the subject immediately, thinking of ways to change your mind without his influence. “Why don’t we forget about everything outside, and just focus on what’s going on in here? We could pretend that we just had a really awesome date, I asked you back to my place and you said yes.”

“Like roleplaying?” Exactly.

He nodded like you could see him properly. “It might ease your nerves.”

“A-alright… but can we leave the lights off? I’m not sure I want that right now.”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

Jinwoo heard your steps draw nearer, closer until you were near enough to take you right then and there if you let him. He’d pick you up and carry you over to the open planned kitchen counter and fuck you with your knees close to your chest.

Fuck. I have to try that sometime.

“So…” You said again, tugging on his jacket to get his role played attention. “Thanks for this. I mean it…”

Jinwoo sensed you were trying to get in character, he took the lead like most things in this relationship were going to develop. “Thanks for tonight, I had a great time, I wasn’t sure you were going to come up here. I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“I did want to. It’s just… I haven’t done this with many people so I’m a little nervous.”

He took our chin with his thumb and forefinger, trying not to smile at your quick inhale. “It’s alright. I can lead you through it, how does that sound?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

“I think it’ll be better if we kiss a little first, do you want to?” 

When you nodded and allowed yourself to get close, your lips were everything Jinwoo had wondered about. So supple, warm and plump enough to suck on, to bite and pull. He could tell you were reluctant, wooden with your position with your hands still enough to pass for a marble statue. So Jinwoo took your hands between his fingers, small enough for one hand whilst the other ran through your hair and brought you closer than before.

Your tongue drowned him in his lust he was so desperately holding back, to not let his urges spoil you before he had a chance to earn your trust completely. Jinwoo wanted to ruin you until you couldn’t speak coherently and only communicated in murmurs and babbling because of a multiple orgasm streak that got you squirting all over his face.

And then you pulled away from him. For a second there, he thought you were backing out of it. But then you said, “Will you look after me, Jinwoo? I’m scared.”

Jinwoo took an educated guess and assumed it was the tough stuff, the pregnancy to come and all that other stuff. Well, of course it was, having mind bending sex wasn’t something to be frightened of. But getting you pregnant was something Jinwoo couldn’t join you with fear because it excited him, it turned him on something chronic.

And pregnancy sex? Sign him up.

He took your hand and walked off without consulting you, straight towards the bedroom. “Let’s get comfortable.”

“Jinwoo-”

“I’m going to look after you, I promise.”

His impromptu plan worked, he might have had innocent blood on his hands doing it, but he couldn’t wait to have something more precious in his hands for years to come and now that he had it, he wouldn’t let it go.

And that was you.

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

Tag list - @bubera974,@snowy-violet,@sky2lar,@starrynights23x,@minh907

@yessirr7,@aussie-boys-wife,@yihona-san06

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[dreamsy990]

drew some of my fav ody designs! wasnt originally meant to be also replicating the styles but thats sort of just how my brain works. except i didnt copy the lineart styles of anyone here so its DEFINITELY a bit uncanny for a couple of these (LOOKING AT YOU QINNY IM SO SORRY) but whatever

the designs featured here (from left to right) belong to: me, @gigizetz, @neal-illustrator, @irunaki, @bigidiotenergytm, @qinnyanimation, and @foopsie-daisy

[peace-hunter]

Optimus wasn't a fuzzy baby most of the time but sometimes he simply refused to fall asleep unless Alpha Trion came by to tell him a story. Prima learned to recognize and accept when this happened and how to deal with it (and was only mildly bitter about not being the favorite. again </3), he just wishes his other siblings would listen to him when he said so :/

(continues under read more)

baby prime orion au

if anyone asked Orion why he insisted on sneaking into the archives despite the amount of trouble it constantly got him into, he would say he's trying to find the matrix. and he wouldn't be lying!

but... he also wouldn't be saying the whole truth either.

it's just. he wouldn't know how to explain how those old recordings almost make the grief and longing for something he can't put his finger on go away, if only for a moment. how for barely a second he can almost feel complete despite the gaping hole in his chest.

it never lasts, but even a glimpse of relief is better than sadness that feels never ending.

(he just wishes Alpha Trion's voice didn't make him so goddamn sleepy. he wouldn't get caught nearly as much if he didn't get lulled to sleep half of the time :/)

[writtenbyan-aries]

I really love how you write Jake. I think it’s super true to who he is. I couldn’t stop smiling reading them because they were so Jake coded. This is probably a weird request but I think Jake has really attractive hands even with the cig fingers. Just imagine you guys are hanging out and you get distracted by his hands his fingers what they do to you Jake notices and is a cocky little shit teasing you and stuff. Then smut where he finger fucks you. Lol probably a super weird request.

I HAVE to do this one because I am a hand girl. I LOVE men (and women) who have REALLY nice hands. So I TOTALLY understand and this is NOT a weird request at all!

I also try to picture them (Jake, Sam, Colby) saying what I have them saying and I try to keep them as real as possible if that makes sense.

Thank you for sending it to me! With that being said, stay tuned yall! 🖤👀

[alittlechaotics-blog]

"Hi Dad" oh okay so you want me to claw my heart out of my chest got it got it

[samaraxmorgan]

It seems like once again you’ve accidentally found a way to annoy the life out of your roommate Sukuna. You’ve been playing your favorite song on repeat, over and over and over again when you’re in the shower, cleaning up around the apartment, he’s even caught you humming it while cooking.

And maybe he wouldn’t be so frustrated with it if he liked the song, but he really truly doesn’t. Too much of a stubborn metal head to even give it a chance. Or at least that’s what you thought.

He swears up and down that he hates that stupid song, but when you come home early from work you can hear something up in his room, his guitar. You always assumed he only had that thing for decoration, shiny dark red and signed in black sharpie by him and his friends hanging up on the wall collecting dust, but it turns out he actually plays.

And what does he play in particular? Your favorite song when he thinks you can’t hear it. Now you just have to decide if you’re gonna have this knowledge be your little secret, or if you’re gonna embarrass him later when you tell him about the time you caught him being a little liar.

Your Roommate Sukuna series masterlist here!!

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!! Divider by @adornedwithlight

[isabelleadjani]

WINONA RYDER & SIGOURNEY WEAVER as Call & Ripley ALIEN: RESURRECTION dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 1997

[tragedy-machine]

[cracklewink]

MY GIRL FINALLY HAS A REF SHEET (my longest yeah boy ever)

I'm working on a comic about her see tags for more 👀

[lazy-ahh]

Hi, Lazy-ahh! Can I ask for main Mark x AMAB reader? In another universe, reader lost his Mark. He somehow travels to main Mark’s universe. Out of desperation, reader murders the other version of himself to take his place and have a second chance with his boyfriend. But it’s only a matter of time before Mark finds out.

REPLACEABLE

pairing mark grayson x (alternate dimension) AMAB reader

in another dimension, you lost mark. now, you'll destroy anything—even yourself—to get him back. but when mark starts noticing the blood under your nails, you realize: some ghosts can't be buried. and some loves aren't yours to keep.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro

you miss him.

it’s a hollow, gnawing thing, chewing through your ribs like a starving animal, leaving behind nothing but an ache so deep you swear it’s carved into your bones. you miss the way he laughed, loud and unguarded, the way his nose scrunched when he teased you, the way his fingers tangled in yours like he never wanted to let go—like you were something precious, something worth holding onto.

but your mark is gone.

you don’t remember much about how it happened, the memory too traumatic to remember yet too painful to forget—just screaming, the metallic tang of blood in the air, the way his body hit the ground too hard, too still, the sickening crack of impact that still echoes in your nightmares. you remember clutching his face, your fingers smearing red across his cheeks, begging him to wake up, to breathe, but his eyes stayed empty, staring past you into nothing.

you weren’t fast enough. you weren’t strong enough.

and then, somehow, you weren’t in your world anymore.

you weren’t even given the chance to grieve yet, to mourn, to scream into the void until your voice gave out. one second, you were kneeling in the wreckage of your life, and the next, you were standing on a sidewalk under a sun that felt too bright, too cruel.

this universe is almost the same. the same streets, the same sky, the same stupid posters of omni-man and the guardians of the globe plastered on bus stops, their smug faces grinning down at you like some sick joke. but then you see him—mark, your mark, alive and whole and laughing, his voice ringing through the air like a punch to the chest. your breath stutters, your chest cracks open, and suddenly you’re drowning all over again.

he’s right there.

you watch him for days, a ghost haunting the edges of his life. he goes to class, he texts his friends, he flies off to fight bad guys like nothing’s wrong, like the world hasn’t ended. it seems like he had just recently gotten his superpowers, his movements still a little unsteady mid-air, nothing like the effortless grace of your mark. your mark had gained his while he was trying to save you during a villain attack, his body slamming into yours as he shielded you from debris, his eyes wide with panic and determination as his powers finally sparked to life. you’d been walking toward a comic store to buy the latest issue of seance dog, his hand warm in yours, his voice teasing as he argued about which volume was better—as cliché and romantic as the scenario was, it was yours. but this mark wasn’t your mark. he didn’t have the memories you two shared, the inside jokes, the quiet nights pressed together under the glow of his laptop screen. he just lived his life happily and heroically, like he didn’t die in your arms. like you didn’t lose everything.

and then you see him. no—not him. you.

the other version of you in this dimension. it seemed like you didn’t get superpowers, didn’t go through the intense training that carved your body into something sharper, something meant to survive. you were... normal. soft in a way you hadn’t been in years. this version of you didn’t get to go on dates where you and mark just flew through the vast, endless night sky, the air cold and biting as you clung to him, the world below reduced to scattered lights while above you, the cosmos sprawled out in all its glory—endless stars, streaks of auroras painting the dark in rippling greens and purples, depending on where the two of you decided to go that night. you didn’t get to fight side by side, didn’t get to know the rush of battle, the way mark’s laughter would cut through the chaos as the two of you pulled off some stupid, reckless stunt, the way he’d press his forehead to yours after, breathless and bleeding, whispering, we make a good team.

but this you—this soft, powerless, ordinary you—was the one who still got to hold mark’s hand. who still got to kiss him goodnight. who still got to exist in a world where he was alive.

it’s not fair.

you don’t plan it. at least, you don’t think you do. but when you see them together—mark’s arm slung around his shoulders, his smile so bright it hurts, like looking directly into the sun—something inside you snaps. something dark and cruel and selfish, something that’s been festering deep inside you, rotting you from the core, finally consumes you whole.

he was walking home alone. it’s easy. he was normal. you were not.

you remember not even letting him scream. every time the memory comes crashing back, it’s like watching a scene play out from somewhere outside your body—like you’re floating in the back of your own mind, numb and detached, as the darkness in your veins pulls your strings, as your hands move without your permission. you let it happen. you let yourself drown.

you had gracefully landed behind them, silent as a shadow. your reflection in the dim streetlights would’ve been horrifying if they’d turned around fast enough to see it—your eyes sunken, bruised with exhaustion, your lips chapped from biting back screams, your hair a mess from nights spent clawing at your own scalp just to feel something. you looked like a ghost. like something already dead.

you remember the way they turned around, playful and fond, expecting it to be mark, only for their expression to twist into surprise. then—wonder? awe? you remember feeling perplexed, watching as this other version of you lit up, rambling in passionate excitement about how cool it was to see another version of himself. you had explained, briefly, that you were a superhero in your dimension, that you fought alongside mark, and their face had glowed with admiration, with playful jealousy, with this aching, innocent want—god, i wish i could do that. i wish i could be out there with him.

then, you remember telling them, voice hollow, that your mark died. because you were too weak. too slow. too human to save him.

and their expression—it falls. their smile shatters like glass, their eyes widening in something like grief, like understanding, because they love mark too, and the thought of losing him—

you watch the exact moment realization creeps in. their breath hitches. their fingers twitch, like they want to reach for you, or maybe run. their lips part—wait—

but you’re already moving.

"but... don’t worry," you whisper, and your voice doesn’t even sound like yours anymore. "you’ll be able to fight alongside him too. it’s just... it wouldn’t be you." your hand brushes their cheek, almost tender. "but then again, we are the same person anyway, right...?"

their face twists in horror.

you don’t let them scream.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

mark notices something's off.

not at first. at first, you're perfect—maybe too perfect. you know all his favorite foods (the way he likes his burgers slightly pink in the middle, how he picks the mushrooms out of his pasta but will eat them if they're chopped small enough). you remember every stupid inside joke, every embarrassing childhood story his mom told you that one thanksgiving. your hands find all the right places—the spot behind his ear that makes him shiver, the way his shoulders tense after patrol that requires just the right amount of pressure to melt away. you curl into him on the couch like a dying star collapsing inward, pressing your face into the warm hollow of his neck, breathing him in like he's oxygen and you've been drowning for months.

maybe he is. maybe he's the only thing keeping you from dissolving completely.

"you've been clingy lately," he murmurs one night, fingers tracing idle circles along the knobs of your spine. you've lost weight. his voice is fond but there's something else there now—a question. "not that i'm complaining."

you tighten your arms around him like he might vanish if you loosen your grip. "just missed you."

he laughs, soft and warm, but it doesn't reach his eyes the way it used to. "i was gone for, like, two hours."

you press closer instead of answering, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

silence stretches. then his hand stills on your back. "...y/n?"

"mhm?"

"look at me."

you don't want to. but you do.

his brows are furrowed, thumb brushing under your eye where the shadows have grown darker, more permanent. "you look like shit." it's supposed to be a joke but his voice cracks. "when was the last time you slept? actually slept?"

you try to smile. it feels like tearing open a wound. "'m fine."

"bullshit." his hands frame your face, calloused and warm and so painfully familiar it makes your chest ache. "you're shaking. you've been—i don't know, jumpy? like you're expecting something to—" he cuts himself off, swallows hard. "talk to me. please."

the concern in his voice is worse than anger would've been. you want to laugh. you want to scream. you want to tell him everything—how you wake up choking on his name, how every time he leaves the room you're half-convinced he won't come back, how sometimes you still smell blood when there's none there.

instead, you press your forehead to his and whisper, "bad dreams."

it's not entirely a lie.

mark exhales, long and slow, his breath warm against your lips. "okay," he murmurs, like he doesn't believe you but won't push. not yet. "okay. but you gotta eat something, alright? and sleep. actual sleep. i'll be right here." his arms tighten around you. "not going anywhere."

you close your eyes.

(you don't tell him that's what your mark said too.)

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

it's the little things that give you away.

the way you flinch when a car backfires two blocks away—too loud, too sudden, too much like that day. how you forget cecil's name during dinner when mark mentions him, even though the other you had known him since freshman year. the way you sometimes stare at mark across the room like he's a miracle, like he's already gone, your fingers twitching with the need to touch him just to prove he's real.

and then there are the nightmares.

you wake up screaming more often than not, sheets tangled around your thrashing limbs, your throat raw like you've been swallowing glass. the images never fade—blood on your hands, mark's vacant eyes, the way his body had felt so heavy when you cradled him. you scrub your skin raw in the shower until it's pink and stinging, but the phantom stains remain. you see them in the dark, in the flicker of streetlights through the blinds, in the rust-colored water swirling down the drain.

mark always wakes when you do.

his arms are around you before you can choke out another sob, pulling you against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat—steady, alive, here. "hey," he murmurs into your hair, voice thick with sleep but achingly tender, "it's okay. i've got you." his lips press against your damp temple, your forehead, the corner of your eye where tears still cling. "breathe, baby. just breathe."

you want to sob harder at the pet name. the other you had loved it too.

your fingers clutch at his shirt like a lifeline, nails digging into the fabric as you try to anchor yourself in the present. mark doesn't complain, just holds you tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. "was it the same dream?" he asks softly.

you nod against his collarbone, unable to speak past the guilt lodged in your throat.

"wanna talk about it?"

you shake your head.

he doesn't push. just shifts until he can tuck you under his chin, your ear pressed over his pulse point. "listen to that," he whispers. "i'm right here. not going anywhere." his fingers card through your sweat-damp hair, gentle and sure. "you're stuck with me, y'know?"

a wet laugh escapes you, half-hysterical. if only he knew.

when you finally drift off again, it's to the rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his hand still tangled in yours—like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

(you wish you could tell him he's holding a ghost.)

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

he finds out on a thursday.

you don't know how. maybe he followed you when you slipped out before dawn to scrub blood from under your nails in a gas station bathroom. maybe he found the shallow grave you dug behind the abandoned church, the dirt still loose after three weeks of rain. maybe the other you's friends noticed their texts going unanswered, their calls ignored, the way you'd flinch whenever someone said their name.

but when you push open the bedroom door—still smiling, still pretending, still holding the takeout bag from mark's favorite burger place—he's standing in the middle of the room. the blinds are closed. the lights are too bright. his face is pale as milkglass.

"where's y/n?" he asks. his voice is too quiet, too careful, like he's holding back a hurricane.

your stomach drops through the floor. the bag slips from your fingers, greasy fries scattering across the hardwood. "i'm right here."

"no." his hands are shaking now, clenched at his sides like he wants to hit something. or you. "the real y/n. where are they?"

you open your mouth. nothing comes out but a thin, wounded sound.

mark's eyes drag over you—the too-sharp angles of your face that don't quite match the photos on the fridge, the way your fingers twitch toward your pockets where bloodstained gloves are hidden, the defensive hunch of your shoulders like you're waiting for the world to end. again. his breath hitches. "oh my god." his voice cracks down the middle. "you—you're not them. what did you do?"

the grief in his voice is a knife between your ribs. you can feel yourself splitting open at the seams.

"i had to," you whisper. your voice sounds shattered, like you've been screaming for years. "i couldn't—i couldn't lose you again."

"again?" his face twists like he's tasting something rotten. "what the fuck are you talking about?"

"you died." the words pour out of you like pus from an infected wound, thick and putrid with guilt. "in my world, you died in my arms—your blood soaking through my clothes, your eyes going blank while i begged you to stay—and i—" your voice fractures, "i wasn't fast enough, i wasn't strong enough, and then i was here and you were alive but you weren't mine and i just—" your knees hit the floor with a sickening crack, but you don't feel the pain. "i just wanted you back."

mark stumbles back like you've physically struck him, his shoulders hitting the wall with a dull thud. his hands fly up to clutch at his hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands until his knuckles bleach white. "so you killed him?" his voice is barely recognizable—raw and shattered. "you killed yourself just to—to what? replace him? wear his face like some fucked-up mask?!"

"i didn't want to be alone!" you scream so hard your throat tears, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. "you don't understand—you're alive here, breathing and whole and—" your voice breaks into a whimper, "and i couldn't—i couldn't keep waking up to a world where you don't exist—"

mark's crying. really crying—the kind of sobs that wrack his entire body, tears streaming down his face in hot, silent rivers. you've never seen him cry before, not even when he broke his arm during a fight, not even when his dad disappointed him for the hundredth time. his breath comes in ragged, wet gasps as he slides down the wall, his legs giving out beneath him.

"you're a monster," he chokes out, the words barely audible but cutting deeper than any blade. his red-rimmed eyes meet yours, and the look in them—horror, grief, betrayal—makes your stomach twist violently.

you collapse forward, your forehead pressing against the cold floor as your body convulses with silent sobs. the weight of what you've done crushes you into nothingness, until you're not sure you even exist anymore. the last thing you hear before darkness swallows you whole is mark's broken whisper:

"i loved him."

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

he doesn't turn you in.

you don't know why. maybe he pities you—sees the hollows under your eyes, the way your hands never stop shaking, and thinks you've suffered enough. maybe he's too horrified to think straight, his mind still reeling from the blood under the floorboards, the missing person posters plastered across town. or maybe, in some terrible, twisted way, he understands. because he's lost people too—nearly lost himself a dozen times over—and that kind of grief does things to a person. makes them desperate. makes them dangerous. especially if that person was the love of your life. your soulmate. your heart. your everything.

but he doesn't look at you the same.

he doesn't touch you—no more casual brushes of fingers, no more sleepy cuddles on the couch, no more pressing kisses to your scars like they're something precious. doesn't smile at your stupid jokes, doesn't light up when you walk into the room. doesn't say your name like it means something, just avoids it entirely, like the syllables burn his tongue.

you broke him.

(and you wonder, with a sick sort of clarity, if this is how your mark felt when you died in your world. if he'd screamed himself raw, if he'd begged some higher power for a second chance, if he'd have done something just as monstrous to get you back. the thought makes you nauseous. you understand now. you wish you didn't.)

you leave before he can.

you don't belong here. you never did.

the last thing you see is mark's face—angry, grieving, alive—his mouth forming words you'll never hear, his hands reaching out like some part of him still wants to catch you. then the portal swallows you whole, and there's nothing but static and the phantom feeling of his fingers slipping through yours.

(you hope, wherever you end up, that there's a version of him who still loves you. but you know, deep down, you don't deserve it.)

3.1k words and I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMOREEEE WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELFFFFFF AHHHHHHH thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this! <33 hopefully you didn't cry as hard as i did when you read this...