#i meant to do this one before the last one
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it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l
→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo
genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au
synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)
wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3
part 1 | part 2
© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.
an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol
‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.
Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.
Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.
With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.
At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.
“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”
Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.
The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.
That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles.
“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.
When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them.
So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.
“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving.
Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh.
“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang.
It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.
“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”
Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout.
Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.
“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance.
He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.
You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.
The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.
You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.
Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself.
So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.
Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him.
“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work.
Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.
He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone.
“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed.
Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”
How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.
“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”
Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?
Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”
He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.
Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.
Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.
But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.
“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee.
Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.
Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.
“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle.
“Lunch with a special friend?”
“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”
He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.
The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.
“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.
The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.
Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.
“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.
One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.
He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.
“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation.
“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.
“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.
“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.
He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?”
His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there.
Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true.
The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd.
Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes.
‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’
A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right?
Hmm…
Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.
“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.
Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.
Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?
Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.
Pick up cleaners,
fix the leak in the kitchen
pick up order from cafe 7 dream
find a new car inspection place
pick up Venetia’s leave cake
Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.
Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?
Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?
God, no… he was being irrational again!
The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on.
Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake.
Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.
‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’
‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’
Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.
‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’
The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his.
He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife.
The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’
It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.
His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.
Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section.
His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.
Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.
Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.
In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.
The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.
He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.
At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.
His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.
Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.
“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”
It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.
“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”
Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.
He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.
The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.
You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.
Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters.
That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up.
He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.
That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.
That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.
You're not her...
Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.
“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers.
“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.”
Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do.
“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.
Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that.
“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember.
Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect.
“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?”
“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”
Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.
Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.
“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”
He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.
‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight.
A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?
No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.
But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?
Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.
“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine.
01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.
‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.
The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.
He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.
With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.
‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’
“What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.
‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘
00:59 at the time you began writing that.
He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.
He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.
Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you.
The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.
“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck.
Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically.
That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.
Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.
It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.
Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.
“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.
Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.
He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.
You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.
Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.
On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.
With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.
“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.
“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.
“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.
The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you.
His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.
Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.
Possession is the word he’s looking for.
His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them.
Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.
The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.
Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.
“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.
You believe me like a God,
‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.
I’ll destroy you like I am.
Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.
His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.
“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.
His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.
Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.
Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.
“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again.
Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.
His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.
“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.
In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.
“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.
“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.
“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.
To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.
He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.
The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.
To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.
Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.
Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.
“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.
“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.
With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.
But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.
After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.
Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.
Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.
It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.
“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while.
Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.
Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.
The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”
‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.
How selfish.
“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.
Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.
“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.
‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.
How selfish.
A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.
“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.
You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.
Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.
The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab.
Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity.
You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.
“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?”
“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.
“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.
‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained.
Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.
He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.
Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.
Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.
Misery loves company.
His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.
You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.
“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?”
“Please…”
You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you.
After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.
Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with.
By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.
He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.
Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.
All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.
Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…
‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’
Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.
Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.
Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.
He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.
For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either.
Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.
Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.
‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’
Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.
Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.
He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.
03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.
The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.
“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”
I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.
Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.
This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?
‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’
The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.
Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!
But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.
No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat.
He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace.
He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.
Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.
It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.
He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.
A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.
“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”
Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…
It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration.
“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.
You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.
You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.
“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way.
“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.
You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.
“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes.
You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.
“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich.
Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.
“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”
Fuck.
“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so.
He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability.
“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.
“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.
‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.
Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.
Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?
Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.
“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator.
Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.
Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.
Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.
“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.”
Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.
“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”
A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.
Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.
He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.
It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.
Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.
He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.
Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.
Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.
No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.
The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.
“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat.
Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.
“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.
I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.
Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.
His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.
Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.
So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.
The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.
Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.
Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain.
Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.
Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?
He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.
Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”
It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).
Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.
“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.
“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…”
Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”
Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.
You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.
In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.
History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.
You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.
Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.
Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.
He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face.
And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.
The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.
He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.
The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.
Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.
“Why don’t you love me anymore?”
Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”
“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.
You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.
His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?”
Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.
He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo.
There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.
If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.
“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.
He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?
I’ll betray you like a man.
Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.
“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”
Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.
The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood.
“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.
“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.
Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.
“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.
Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.
“I think we should take a break.”
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses.
“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”
You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be?
“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”
Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.
“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.
You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.
“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.
“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault. You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”
Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals.
Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.
You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.
“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed.
“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain.
"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down.
Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.
He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.
Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly.
“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.
With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.
He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.
‘Laboratory report
Patient: Y/n Lee.
Sampled collected: May 15, 2008.
Report date: May 20, 2008
Status: Pregnant
Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’
Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.
You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.
if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !
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#neohub#nct-writers#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#nctcreations18#mark lee smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#mark lee x you#mark lee x reader#nct 127#nct dream#nct#nct fic
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Classroom duty
word count; 1317 – f!reader
Iwaizumi was on classroom duty this week and he used to hate that. It meant that he got to volleyball practice late and didn’t even have time for a healthy snack. In addition, he had to make some kind of small talk with whoever he was paired with. It goes by the pairs in which the desks are placed and he was never the best at socialising outside of the athletic world.
However, classroom duty wasn’t so bad this time around, because ever since last break, he was paired up with you. Iwa didn’t notice you that much before, he just knew you were bright and kind. And of course, he couldn’t deny to the universe that you were nice to look at, but he would still keep trying to deny it to his friends.
He knew he was fond of you. You with the cartoonish drawings of the teacher on the sides of your notes so you could make him smile in class. You with the lipgloss that looked like it might not taste good, despite how it made your lips look so biteable. You with the evil little laugh every time your paper ball would hit the trash and his didn’t. Yeah, Hajime Iwaizumi was very fond of you.
“Iwa?”
“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled awkwardly, glancing around at the pristine classroom. “What did you say?”
You snorted a laugh and turned around pointing to the garbage bags collected by the door and ready to be thrown away. “I said, let’s go?” Hajime spurred into action, happily finishing up here and putting those muscles to good use.
Usually, there was this thing where the people on classroom duty did rock paper scissors for who took the trash, letting the other off. No one knows who started it, but it stuck. Oikawa seemed to believe you and Hajime were the only ones who didn’t follow tradition.
“Why does she even go with you when all she does is hold up the lid on the trash can while you do all the heavy lifting?” Oikawa complained now that his best friend was finally back in his volleyball uniform. Some might say he was jealous.
Iwaizumi shrugged, about to answer when someone else did from behind him, making him turn around and causing Oikawa to lift a brow at the interruption.
“Sounds like she likes you.”
“Mad dog?” Oikawa exclaimed dramatically with a gasp. Kyotani glared at the setter.
“No, we just do it that way, you know?“ Iwaizumi said, sounding a bit like he was fishing to hear it again. Hear that you might like him.
“Okay, whatever,” Kyotani grumbled. Charming as ever. His two per cent of extra respect for Iwaizumi went into that effort and now it was spent.
They went back to practice, and Oikawa forgot about the interrupted gossip as soon as the practice game started, leaving Iwaizumi to mull this over himself. When this week was over, would you stop talking to him so much?
The next morning, you’re both there early to prepare the classroom, and Iwaizumi greeted you with a shy nod. “Last day!” you cheered. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed you for a few seconds as you skipped over to the teacher’s desk, where you picked up the note left by the teacher and then walked over to the chalkboard to prepare it. He liked how you were always so bright, even as you had to be there earlier than everyone else. And then he was happy to see you weren’t invincible, when you looked a little more tired in the evening while walking out with the trash, stubborn smile still directed at him like you refused to give up.
But for now, it’s still morning. “You sound excited, any plans this weekend?” he asked, leaving the mop in the corner after mopping the floors. Then he strolled up beside you, picking up the sponge to go wet it. You turned to glance at him exactly when he turned away. Maybe he’ll ask me out if I say no?
“Not much. Just happy it’s the last day we have to do these chores,” you said, seemingly carefree in adding little hearts and stars around what the teacher wanted. It made Iwa smile as he placed the wet sponge on the little edge beneath the chalkboard.
Wait, she’s happy we’re done? Maybe Kyotani is totally clueless. “Oh,” he said, not meaning to. “Me too.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” you teased, putting the chalk down and turning to him. “You like taking the trash out?”
“Maybe…” he said defensively, clenching his fists and then unclenching them again. “I like hanging out with you.” There, at least he said something.
“Iwaizumi…” He looked at you hopefully but glanced away quickly when he realised his face was burning. “You know we still sit beside each other when the week is finished, right? It’s not like I’ll stop talking to you.”
Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, embarrassment sinking into every nerve of his body because he hadn’t much thought about that. “Of course,” he said first like it was instinctual. I just like hanging out with you alone. That’s what he should have said. Instead, he stuttered out meaningless sounds for a second before the bell rang and students started rushing to their seats, meaning you had to move too.
Oikawa sighed from the entrance to the classroom, in absolute disbelief at how his best friend, the ace of all aces, in his opinion, could fumble so badly for a girl.
“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the agitating, grating voice that interrupted his peaceful lunch on a bench outside in the sun.
“Shittykawa.”
“Hey! I’m here to help you.” He sat down beside his best friend, opening his bento and stuffing some food in his mouth. Iwaizumi was chewing slowly and waiting to hear more with a disinterested look on his face.
“With?”
“Your love life.”
Oikawa went on a rant about grand gestures, making some very grand gestures himself while explaining, and Iwa could just not figure out why the girls swooned for him when he looked so stupidly invested in his stupid plan for his stupid love life.
“Are you even listening?” Oikawa asked, angrily stuffing another spoonful of food into his mouth.
“Absolutely not. I will not be renting a horse and armour.” And even though that was evidence he had in fact listened, Oikawa was not pleased that his best friend didn’t seem to understand what an expert in love he was. “She’s probably not even interested.”
“Iwa!” Another voice said, making him turn around and almost knock over the water bottle beside his bento.
“That you listen to.” Oikawa mocked from his side, but anything he said went in one ear and out the other once again, when his eyes fell on you.
“Hey,” Hajime greeted you, somewhat awkwardly as you hadn’t chatted much outside the classroom or on the way to the trash containers. “What’s up?”
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” you asked, your words sharing space with a sigh as you had jogged over.
“He’s not,” Oikawa answered, and while that would normally make him annoyed, he just repeated it while still looking at you.
“I’m not.”
“Maybe we can go out for some ice cream? Or a coffee?” you asked further, and it was obvious that you were nervous despite trying to seem confident, not smiling like you usually did. He didn’t answer right away, so you involuntarily went into a word vomit. “I was waiting for you to ask, but then you didn’t and if you’re not interested then we can just forget this, but…” You stopped and looked at him hopefully, one hand on either hip.
“Take him, please.”
Iwaizumi didn’t even need to look to plant his hand over Oikawa’s face before giving you an endearing smile. “I’m interested. Coffee sounds perfect.”
masterlist
/a special thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with my writer's block for this one
#haikyu x reader#haikyu#haikyuu#hq x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu fluff#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu iwaizumi#hq iwaizumi#iwaizumi fluff#oikawa tooru#aoba johsai#oikawa
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
#ACLA24#ACLA24Leaders#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental justice#environment protection#environmental health#Youtube
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OPEL ASTRA - JOOST KLEIN
SUMMARY: it's a good thing finding an inspiration to your song in your everyday things. what is not a good thing is that your friends shouldn't change your work if you like it.
PAIRING: joost klein x fem!reader
GENRE: fluff
WORD COUNT: +/- 600
WARINGS: none:3
AUTHOR'S NOTE: hai:3 sorry it took so long but there are really lot of requests in my inbox and im trying my best at keeping up with them. this was based on this and that request. hope you like it!.
“I’m still not so sure about this,” Aggu said, pointing at some lines that were displayed on the computer. Y/N only sighed and put her fingers at the piano keyboard again.
She changed some notes and words, hoping it would satisfy her friend but unfortunately it wasn't enough. You can say that she was pissed, but she was really trying her best not to say anything. The song was okay, what didn't he like about it?
“Aggu stop, it's okay, I like it, you don't have to, it's just not your song” the girl said and then the door opened and Joost entered the room with beers in his hands. He quickly gave them the drinks and leaned against the desk, where Y/N was sitting. She knew him for the last two hours, but he was such a cute guy.
“What’s going on?” Joost asked, looking at Aggu and Y/N. One glance at Aggu’s face was enough for him to know that he didn't like something in the song. “Play it” he told her and she only sighed, expecting another complaint that the song wasn't enough. She pressed the play button and placed her head at the desk. She was so tired at that moment. She just wanted to lay in her bed and play guitar for some time or gossip with her best friend.
Joost enjoyed listening to her song. It was really catchy and he wanted to dance really bad.
“I like it,” he said with a smile. He clapped her shoulder, as if he was trying to tell her not to think about Aggu without words.
“But something is missing here, don't you think?” the Germanman asked, looking at his friend. Joost only furrowed, looking at blondeman.
“Nah, not really,” Joost said. “Do you like it, Y/N?” he asked the girl, who was looking at the monitor with empty eyes.
“No. Those lines are shit” she said about the lines she changed earlier, because of Aggu. “It was better earlier,” she added. Joost encouraged her to show him what it sounded earlier and only smiled, when he heard her own version.
“It sounds more like you, you know” he said, making her blush a little. “I think this one is better,” he added.
Aggu only rolled his eyes and stopped his attempts to change anything.
“Why don't you add some guitar before the bridge?” Joost proposed, after again listening to the song. “It will be even more in your style” he said and took a sip of his beer.
“You’ve listened to my music?” the girl asked, looking at him. Of course she listened to him, he was such a great artist. But him listening to her bunch of shit? No, it couldn't be.
“Sure, “Opel Astra” is my favourite” he announced with a chuckle. Y/N only blushed more. “Opel Astra” wasn't a very popular song of hers (actually none of them was) so it meant that he had to listen to her music for longer. It was so lovely.
“I like it too,” she said.
“Do you wanna sing in one of my songs? I really need something like you do, it's a true need” Joost said at some point as they were sitting on the patio and eating pizza with everyone.
“Really?” Y/N asked only and he only nodded. “We can do something tomorrow” she said and his smile only grew bigger.
“Thanks” he said only, making her blush a little.
The next day was going to be very, very interesting and full of guitar solos for sure.
masterlist
#discopaddock#joost klein fanfic#joost klein imagine#joost klein x reader#joost klein x you#joost klein fluff#joost klein angst
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The Addams Family Through the Years
Before I get into character profiles, let me first do a run-through of the incarnations of the Addams family through the years.
As I wrote in my first post, Charles Addams created the nameless, bizarre family in some of the many comics he drew for The New Yorker starting in 1938. Morticia and Wednesday were named in 1962 when dolls of them were released. Charles Addams was asked for a list of names and descriptions for them and the other family members when the TV show was in development in 1963, but had little other involvement with the show.
The show ran for two seasons from 1964 to 1966, totalling 64 episodes. This was the same time that a similar show, The Munsters, was also on the air. Both shows were about wacky families of monstrous weirdos living in American suburbia. Both were in black and white, and both were canceled in 1966, possibly due to the rise of color television.
After a cross-over with Scooby-Doo, Hanna-Barbera produced a 16-episode animated series in 1973 which featured the family on a road trip in a creepy camper that looked like their mansion. It featured the same actors who played Lurch and Fester voicing their previous characters, and a 10-year-old Jodie Foster as the voice of Pugsley!
There was a reunion special in 1977, which reunited most of the cast of the show, called Halloween with the New Addams Family. The original show had remained popular, running in syndication for years. It was especially popular in Australia. According to one fan, this was because the Addams family was “less American” than the Munsters.
In 1991, a feature film was released after a tumultuous production. Raul Julia became the new face of Gomez Addams in the popular consciousness. It was followed by a sequel called Addams Family Values in 1993, and in between there was another animated series. John Astin reprised his role as Gomez in that animated series.
There were plans to continue the film series, but Raul Julia suffered from stomach cancer and died suddenly in 1994, canceling those plans. Although both films performed poorly at the box office, they gained a loyal following on home video and remain popular to this day. In 1992, an Addams family pinball machine was produced featuring original voice acting from Raul Julia as Gomez and Angelica Huston as Morticia. It became the most popular pinball machine of all time, selling over 20,000 units.
In 1998, a TV movie called Addams Family Reunion was produced by Saban, featuring Tim Curry as Gomez and Daryl Hannah as Morticia. The only returning actors from the 1991/93 movies were Carel Struycken and Christopher Hart's hand, who played Lurch and Thing, respectively. I have not seen it, and can not attest to its quality, or lack thereof. That movie was also meant to be the pilot for a TV show called The New Addams Family, but most of the cast was different. It ran for 65 episodes, none of which have I seen. (Hat tip to @tenthirtyone for pointing this out.)
After a try-out in Chicago, a musical debuted on Broadway in 2010. I was lucky enough to see that for my birthday that year. It starred Nathan Lane as Gomez and Bebe Neuwirth as Morticia. It was pretty entertaining. It would have been better if Lane wasn’t trying to be Raul Julia. He did a very fake Spanish accent, and it was terribly distracting. The musical was panned by critics and didn’t last long, but it was popular enough that it is now performed by high schools across the country. In fact, my friend Sarah and my cousin Charlie were both involved with different productions of it this past Spring.
That same year (2010), the rights were purchased by Illumination Entertainment, and they announced that they were going to produce a stop-motion film with Tim Burton. However, he decided to go with computer animation instead. That eventually turned into the 2019 film, after Tim Burton dropped out. This version was the closest in appearance to the original comics. Although the characters are rendered in 3D, the animators aimed to make them look as much like Charles Addams’ drawings as possible.
You’d think Tim Burton had been involved since at least the 1991 movie, but he hadn’t. Black and white stripes? Bats? Other goth things? That sounds like Tim Burton, but oddly enough, he actually hasn’t been attached to any Addams Family property until the Netflix show in 2022. It’s a natural pairing, and perhaps he would have been great friends with Charles Addams, had he been born several decades earlier.
Now the Netflix show, centered on Wednesday, is in production for its second season after its first season was one of the streaming service's most popular shows to date. It's not the first time the Addams family has spawned a viral dance sensation. Way back in the 1960s, the original TV show started a dance craze called “the Lurch”.
In coming posts, I’ll go into how Charles Addams originally portrayed each of the nine characters in the Addams family pictured above (Gomez, Morticia, Pugsley, Wednesday, Fester, Grandmama, Lurch, Thing, and Cousin Itt) and how they evolved, or didn’t, over time.
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He's My Man (Part 1)
Summary: The reader receives an anonymous text from a new client needing an off the books patch job. However he's annoyingly good looking and the last thing you need is some ex-special ops guy hanging around. Unfortunately for you, Russell Shaw isn't the kind of guy to walk away when he knows something's wrong...
Masterlist
Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader
Word Count: 2,000ish
Warnings: language, gun shot injury
A/N: Contains minor spoilers for Tracker 1x12. Please enjoy the start of this new series! I'm not sure how long it will go but thanks for coming on this ride with me!
__________
Your ears perked up on Saturday morning when your phone buzzed on the coffee table before you. Not your everyday one but your one for work. You swiped it open, pursing your lips when you saw it was from an unknown number.
Need a patch job on a quilt. Doug recommended you as a good seamstress in the area.
Alright, well at least this guy knew one of your clients. Doug wasn’t a regular but you’d seen him once or twice over the years which meant the person on the other end wasn’t a cop most likely.
I can fit you in. More complicated the patch, the more it’ll cost.
Not an issue.
You hummed and stood up, grabbing your coffee mug along the way.
129 Edwards Ave in twenty minutes. Use the red back door.
You took a long sip and went over to the kitchen, tossing the rest down the sink, leaving the mug to be cleaned later.
You just hoped this job wasn’t as bad as the last one.
Eighteen minutes later you heard the back door open and then silence, a moment’s hesitation as your new client entered what looked like a storage area. You flipped a light switch, illuminating the small enter sign over the doorway to the room you were prepping in. A few moments later there were heavy boots against the cement ground as he entered, turning to tile, your head lifting.
A man in his forties, a quite handsome one at that, gave the small operating room a cursory glance before settling on you, determining you were the only one there. Meanwhile your gaze shot to his injured left arm, a gunshot from the looks of it. You only spotted one bloody bullet hole and figured that was the worst of it from the way he cradled his forearm.
“You the seamstress?” he asked quietly, scanning the counter full of medical equipment and metal table in the center of the room.
“Take a seat,” you said, patting the table. You went to a sink and washed up, making sure to keep him in view at all times. He winced and struggled to get the coat off, finally managing and revealing a quick patch job had been done. After drying your hands, you snapped on some gloves, the man’s coat and overshirt now on the table behind him.
“Russell Shaw by the way,” he said.
“Y/N,” you said, carefully taking his forearm in one hand, the top of his muscular bicep in the other. You turned his arm slightly, Russell wincing again. “Looks like a through and through. We’ll do a quick x-ray to make sure there’s no shrapnel and then we’ll get you stitched up and I’ll send you home with some supplies and instructions to care for it. This your only injury?”
“Yeah. Doug said you were good.”
“I am,” you said, offering him a brief smile, he returned. “Do you have any PTSD? Going to come at me if I I need to use a scalpel?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I’m good with all that.”
You hummed, guiding him to lay back. Three minutes later you were pushing your x-ray machine aside and taking the lead vest away, Russell sitting upright.
“Can I ask a question?”
“You can ask, don’t mean I’ll answer, sweetie,” you said back, hanging up the vest and going to your laptop on the counter.
“How does one get into this line of work?” he asked.
“Asks the man that’s ex-special ops and does private contract gigs, not to mention killed probably three people minimum tonight.” You glanced over to him, Russell tilting his head. “I know who Doug is and what he does. Makes sense you do it too. You have blood under your fingernails and given the splatter patterns on your jeans, you had multiple different angled shots so multiple bodies you hit.”
“...And you don’t report that sort of thing?” he asked cautiously. You determined his x-ray looked good and washed up again, putting on more new gloves. By the time you were standing before him again, he looked nervous.
“On occasion. But only the monsters. You, you don’t strike me as a monster, Russell,” you said, wiping some antiseptic over his entry and exit wounds. He flinched but only slightly at the quick burn. A moment later you were giving him something to numb the area.
“Someone took Doug. Someone bad. They would have come back if I hadn’t done what needed to be done.” You wiped sterile gauze over his wound and then flushed it, Russell watching your graceful movements with interest.
“Like I said, not a monster.” You hummed as you worked, Russell fixated on you carefully cleaning and then pulling the skin back together, tying it up neatly. You wiped away the evidence of his blood and wrapped his bicep in thick gauze, taping it down so he could still get movement without worrying about it coming off.
You chucked your gloves in the trash and nodded back to the door behind you.
“There’s a shower in there and some brushes. Turn it on low, scrub yourself clean, under your nails too. Use the blue soap. When you’re done, throw everything away in the bin, including your bloody clothes. You leave your boots, anything you want to keep out here with me. There’s men’s sweats and some shirts on the shelf. By the time you’re done, your boots and other items will have no trace of wherever you’ve been. Got it?”
“I do like a woman that takes charge.” He smirked, sliding off the table and dropping slowly to kneel to unlace his shoes, still looking up at you. “Full service deal you got going here.”
“Yes it is and here’s a friendly reminder for my new client. You come anywhere near me with your dick out, I’ll make you regret being alive. Understand, sweetie?” you said, patting his cheek. “Off you go.”
“God damn, I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You rolled your eyes but smirked when your back was to him. Ten minutes later the room was clean and Russell exited the bathroom with damp, slicked back hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, black hanes sweat pants and white socks. You nodded to where his shoes sat on the end of the counter, Russell taking a seat in the chair nearby as he slipped them on.
After he checked he had his phone, keys and wallet, he raised himself to his feet, pulling out his wallet.
“What do I owe you?”
“A thousand.” To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at that number. But like most of your clients, he didn’t have the cash on him, at least not that much. Russell smirked as he glanced back in the bathroom.
“Smart woman. You keep the evidence as ransom until your clients pay up. You won’t destroy that until after I pay, will you.”
“Not until we get to know each other better do I do that sort of thing without payment. Seeing as you’re new and a friend of Doug’s, I’ll give you to the end of next week to pull it together. I offer payment plan options and other alternative forms of care if shit ever really hit the fan for you.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, putting down five hundred dollar bills. “I can bring the other half back here later today. Just need to run to an ATM.”
“Text me when you got the rest. I’ll send you a place to meet,” you said, nodding towards the door. He gave you a small salute and shook his head with a smile.
Forty minutes later you were sitting at a table in the cafe three blocks over, happily sipping on your coffee while working your way through a cheese danish. You spotted Russell when he came in. He gave you a quick, adorably awkward wave and ordered himself a drink. A few minutes later he was sitting down across from you, a small cup and what appeared to be a banana muffin in hand.
“You’re a coffee snob aren’t you. This place is pricey,” he teased, his brow furrowing when he had a drink from his styrofoam cup. “Shit. That’s fucking good.”
“Beats whatever motel crap I’m sure you’re used to,” you said, his gaze hardening for a split second. “Sorry. I always tail my first time clients to make sure they aren’t…you know who. You know the Elkwood Lodge on route 8 is cleaner and cheaper than what you’re paying for now.”
“How would you know that?” he asked. You shrugged and simply grinned, taking another bite of danish. He licked his lips, pointing at the yet to be touched danish beside you. “Was that one for me?”
“God no. I fucking love danishes and these are incredible,” you said, finishing off the first and biting into the other.
“You are something else,” he said, smirking when he slid a white envelope across the table. You tucked it into your jacket pocket, Russell picking at his own muffin. “You ain’t going to check it’s all there?”
“You’re a smart man, Russell. I think you know not to screw me over.” He looked you up and down, earning a pointed response. “Keep that gutter mind to yourself.”
“If I’m in the gutter, you’re right there with me,” he said, absently rubbing his injured arm. “And uh, if it gets infected or I think it is, I should reach out?”
“Absolutely. That ain’t a normal injury you’re used to. Don’t play tough guy, tough guy.” He nodded, his body twisting ever so slightly towards a standing position. “Nope. Stay for at least five minutes, then you can go.”
“You really like telling me what to do, don’t you,” he grinned.
“Russell.” Hss grin was wide before he took a long drag of coffee, humming as it went down.
“What if I want to stay more than five minutes?” You paused mid-chew of your danish. “Come on, one conversation won’t kill you.”
“I don’t get involved with clients.”
“Alright. I respect that but this ain’t my end goal. I’m going to have a normal life someday. I make a pretty mean homebrew. Going to get some land, open up a brewery, have some food, make it a little family place everybody can enjoy. So that’s my goal. I sure as hell know working as a seamstress ain’t your end goal either. So again, what’s the harm in one conversation?”
You bit your bottom lip, Russell’s expression changing, ever so slightly.
“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “What-“
“Shut up,” you mumbled. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your fucking face did. You don’t want to be a seamstress, do you? Can you not get out of your line of work?” You glanced out the window, even the wonderful flavors of the pastry doing nothing to help the unease in your gut. “I can help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” you snapped. You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Sorry. I…I’m just crabby because I didn’t have my morning coffee until just now.”
“Nice try.” You glared at him, his green eyes remarkably gentle. “I don’t leave my friends behind. Now either you tell me what’s going on or I’m going to poke around myself and I guarantee that’s going to be a lot more dangerous and you’ll just have to patch me up even more. What do you say?”
You stared at him and stared at him and stared at him for what felt like forever. Then you took out the envelope and handed it back to him, along with the five hundred in your purse.
“Go buy me two more cheese danishes and a large caramel frappe to go. Then take me to your motel room. This is a long fucking story.”
__________
A/N: Part 2 coming soon!
#Russell Shaw x reader#Russell Shaw#Russell Shaw Fanfiction#Tracker Fanfiction#Tracker#Russell Shaw x you#Russell Shaw series
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ex-husband gojo who refuses to move on from you and refuses to let you do the same.
it had been a nasty divorce at first - insults and curses had been thrown back and forth, love had been questioned, characters had been attacked. emotions had run high, and there had been too many irons left on, too many pots threatening to boil over for him to handle it how he should have, so in the end, he had decided to give you everything and more you had asked for in the divorce.
you had asked for a small portion of the funds, stating that while you knew he had been the one to bring home majority of the funds, it was only fair that you got something.
he had split the funds 70/30 with you getting the 70. he still deposited a large chunk of his money into the joint checking account that neither of you had bothered closing.
you had asked to take the painting in the foyer as well as the chinaware in the cabinets, and he had given you the whole house, along with the vacation one way out in the mountains.
you had asked for the porsche that was a few years too old for his personal preference, and he had traded it in for a current year and left it parked in the driveway. he’d show up sometimes, unannounced, and take it to the shop for you because he knows you always forget to change the oil, rotate the tires and top up on air.
he knew it wouldn’t make up for the neglect and absence you had put up with for so long, but it was a start - a hefty present from him to you that he had hoped would pave the way for forgiveness.
and it had, of course it had, you were so forgiving - that’s one of the things he loved about you.
you had agreed to keep in touch, just to make sure he hadn’t finally gotten himself killed (as if), and the texts had been sparse and formal in the beginning, but that had never been gojo’s game, and soon enough he was joking with you just like before. before the two of you had ventured into the territory of flirting and everything that came with it.
texts turned to phone calls that lasted into the late hours of the night, you asleep on the receiver and gojo recording your snores so he could make fun of you in the morning.
phone calls quickly turned into brunch dates—
“it’s not a date, satoru. it’s a friendly gathering between two friends.”
—friendly gatherings, and that turned into late dinners because he had a habit of skipping meals, and you had a habit of forcing him to make up for those skipped meals, fussing all the while you topped his plate off with a home cooked meal.
late dinners turned into early breakfasts because—
“it’s too late to drive…why don’t you stay the night? you can sleep on the couch.”
and the couch, of course, had turned into your bed, his bed, our bed—the bed he had laid you down in time and time again. the bed that had heard your pleasures, your sadness, your anger, your happiness, your confessions.
the bed that he had told you he loved you in for the first time: early in the morning when the sun had only just began to peek in through the window, when his hair had been matted down on one side and fluffy on the other from sleep, when you had drool at the corner of your mouth and crust in your eyes. he had told you then. rosy cheeked and tired in the eyes — “i think i love you.” “you think?” “i know.”
the bed that he would now renew his vows to you in—confess his love for you once again and promise to do it differently this time around. you wouldn’t even have to marry him again (you had never divorced in his mind - that paper hadn’t meant a thing when his heart still resided in your care), he just wanted a chance, a redo, an opportunity to treat you the way he should have from the moment he said i do.
and you’d give it to him, wouldn’t you?
#gojo x reader#idk who this reader is bc i would never divorce gojo and risk losing that clan money#could never be me
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
#ACLA24#ACLA24HighSchoolStudents#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental education#environmental justice#environmental protection#environmental health#high school students#high school#youth#youth of america#school
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Catfish part 2
“I am sick and tired of you two!” I watched as a pissed off Leah paced the room, her nostrils flaring and her hands clenched into tight fists. “You just can’t help yourselves, god forbid I have a relaxing day off with my girlfriend.” She continued to pace, I wince at the tone of her voice, shrinking into myself in slight fear.
It’s been a month since Leah and I had finally met, and since then we had spent every possible moment together. Which meant I got to know her teammates extremely well, Katie is the one person Leah probably wished I had never interacted with. Leah had become the butt of jokes and the target for pranks every time we were in a room with Katie.
“I can’t believe you’d do something so stupid after I told you last week to stop.” She had stopped pacing, instead opting to stand in front of us with her arms crossed over her chest and fixing the both of us with an intense glare. Katie had to stifle her laugh, not intimidated by Leah’s glare in the slightest. Mainly because her now bright pink hair made her look like a pouty barbie.
“Katie” she said with as much venom in her tone as possible. “don’t make me call your girlfriend.” That was enough for Katie to shrink back in her seat and huff grumpily to herself. “This is blackmail” she mumbled.
“And what about it? My hair is pink!” Leah all but screamed, pointing frantically to her hair. I had managed to avoid being obliterated by her anger thus far, and I wasn’t about to put myself in the same position as Katie, so I stayed quiet.
“Yeah but it suits you so is it really that bad?” Katie smirked up at her. Big mistake. Leah took one step forward, Katie’s smirk falling from her face, most likely praying to any god that would listen to open up a hole in the ground and take her anywhere else.
“Is it really that bad?” Leah repeats, tone sharp. “Is it really that bad? Let me think…” Leah gripped the collar of Katie’s shirt and pulled her to her feet “if I dyed Coopurr green would it really be that bad?” Katie looked mortified, whether it was from the fact Leah had now lifted her off the ground, her feet barely grazing the floor, or if it was the subtle threat that soon her cat would look like a lab experiment gone wrong, I didn’t know.
“Leah, babe. Let’s put Katie back down yeah?” I say calmly, hoping my tone would break the tense atmosphere.
Leah looked back at me, her eyes flicking back and forth between my eyes before ultimately deciding to do what I said. Except she didn’t just put her down, she added a little shove in that had Katie stumbling backwards with a yelp of surprise. Leah smirked to herself before turning her attention to me. “So. Babe.” she licked her lips, eyeing me with something scarily evil glinting in her eyes. “What do you have to say about this?”
“Well” I cleared my throat, rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans. “I did participate in the prank, I think you look absolutely breathtaking and I’m sorry.” My words flew out of my mouth at a speed I didn’t know I was capable of, eyes squeezing shut as I anticipated Leah reacting in a similar way to how she had reacted with Katie.
When I heard nothing, I peeked an eye open. Leah was staring at me, head tilted slightly to the side as the corners of her mouth quirked up into a soft smile. Ultimately. Leah found it impossible to stay mad at me. Even though we had made her look like she had just escaped from a candyfloss factory and she would be hiding it underneath a hat until it washed away. “Katie.” she spared her a quick glance over her shoulder “go home before I change my mind about turning your cat into a fluffy green goblin.”
Katie might as well have thrown herself out of the room with the speed at which she scarpered away. “Baby, why did you and Katie have to become friends?” she pouted at me, throwing her arms up like a toddler having a tantrum. “I preferred it when she thought you were insufferable.”
“That was for like a week babe, and only because she thought I was catfishing you.” I run my hands up and down her arms and watch her shoulders slump into a more relaxed state.
“At least I wasn’t being ganged up on, I liked it better that way.” She leaned her body into mine, dropping her head to my shoulder.
“From what I heard, you were moping about the training grounds for weeks on end so… still prefer it that way?” She huffs and pinches my side.
We stayed like that for a while, stood in the middle of her living room, wrapped up in each others arms. A comfortable silence floated around us, neither one of us willing to break the atmosphere.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two weeks later, Leah was still sporting her pink hair, it had faded to a pastel pink. Leah had stopped hiding it once it wasn’t as bright and she actually came to love the colour of it.
“Baby, are you ready? The girls are waiting for us.” Leah shouted up the stairs, I had been staying at her house for just over a week, she had refused to let me leave, dragging me back into bed and gripping me so tight I almost lost my breath. She had only let me leave to pick up some stuff from my house, as long as I came straight back ‘no dawdling’ as she put it.
“Yes my love, I’m ready, just putting my jacket on.” I reply, coming down the stairs as I do up the buttons on my jacket. “What are we doing again?”
“Well, since it was Katie’s turn to choose the activity today, she chose axe throwing. Alessia tried opting out cause she’s a clutz and didn't want to accidentally kill anyone but you know Katie. She’s got Lessi wrapped around her little finger.” Leah continued to ramble as we walked down the driveway and as she opened the car door for me, only pausing once the door was shut and she had to circle the car to get in.
“What was I saying again?”
“More than I asked for.” I tease, grinning as her hand dropped to rest on my thigh. “Is Katie sure this is the place she wants you in right now? I mean, you have spent the last two weeks throwing things at her every time you see her.” Leah had forgiven Katie already, the same night we died her hair to be exact. But she was thriving off of Katie’s fear every time an object was flying at her head.
“You know, one of these days she’s not gonna duck and you’re gonna have to deal with Captain mum shouting at you.” Leah groans and rolls her eyes. We had this same conversation a few days ago, her reply being ‘Kimmy would never’ which she was vehemently wrong about as Kimmy had indeed shouted at Leah yesterday. Granted, it was early and Kimmy hadn’t had her coffee yet, but it still set Leah on edge and made her pout for the rest of the day.
“Don’t start again babe, you’ve been enjoying winding Katie up as much as I have.” And she was right, I had joined in with Leah’s torture on the poor girl, it had started as a comment in passing about what colour Leah was going to dye Coopurr. The way she had paled slightly and gulped like the very thought of her precious Coopurr being violated in such a way was the worst thing she had ever imagined.
It had snowballed since then, I said and did anything I could to set her on edge. So much so that she had probably gone back to thinking I am insufferable. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” Leah sighed, axe throwing was not her idea of fun.
“You know I love you right?” I glance at her, seeing the way her eyes light up and the tips of her ears turn pink, matching her hair perfectly. “I do, and I love you too.” She leaned over, pressing her lips softly to mine “so much.”
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Twisted
Song Mingi x Reader 18+
What could possibly go wrong with sleeping with your boss’ son?
Your red bottoms clacking as you entered the company, the stares didn't go unnoticed to you. You could say you always did enjoy a bit of attention.
You passed by the security and into the elevator. The doors opened showing the hallway that leads to the office of the man you weren't happy about seeing.
You didn't bother knocking and entered the office, there he was in the chair with his unbuttoned shirt, a drink in his hand and a girl in her bra on the desk "Why are you here?" He clicked his tongue placing his drink down.
"Scram." You demanded, your eyes bruised on the girl who started to pick up her clothes from the floor and ran out the office. You strolled up to the him. "Did he send you?"
You ignored him, your eyes running around the office room that smelt like fresh sex. A disgust look took over your face when your eyes landed on him.
You worked for Mr Song, Mingi’s father. You were loyal to him, he was your role model and you were proud to work for a hard working man who worked so hard to build a company from nothing to where it was now. A big corporation in Seoul.
Mr Song was a gentleman but his son was a totally womaniser though that wasn't the only reason why you loathed him it was also the fact that whatever his father built would come down to the ground if Mingi stayed like this.
It was a well known fact that he would always bring in different women to the office almost everyday but no one dared to say anything because the man also had anger issues.
"You need to put a stop to this." You warned throwing the files you were holding on the oak brown desk. "The sales have dropped by 15% and Park’s corporation is no longer wanting to partner." He lazily opened one of the files, scanning it before looking back up you since you were still standing.
The hatred feeling between you two was mutual, you both didn't like each other or even handle being in each other's presence. Mingi didn't like the fact that his own father trusted you more than him or how he treated you as if you meant something more than him.
"This has nothing to do with me, numbers dropped before I was in charge." Mingi’s voice hit your ears and you almost wanted to laugh at the stupid mark he made.
“Stop fooling around, you’re the CEO of Song corporation now. Grow up, Mingi.” Your statement made him poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue and raise a brow. He stood up stepping towards you.
“You have some confidence on you, walking in here telling me what to do and what not. I don’t know if you have been sucking my father’s dick but-”
The slap that had just landed on his face cut him off. He scoffed titling his head, his eyes not leaving yours as your ones danced between his. Mingi had crossed the line. “Don’t ever say such sick things.”
You turned to leave but the sudden grip on your wrist span you around. Your body was pressed against his one. You stared up at the taller male, before you had the chance to say something his slender fingers wrapped around your throat pushing you back to the couch.
“What the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widen as you fell on the couch, his fingers only tightening. Mingi leaned over, he was only inches away from your face. Anger in his eyes and the smell of whiskey was lingering around your nose.
“Should I be the last face you see?” A creepy smile making its way to his face. His eyes growing as your face turned red, he was crashing your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around his wrist trying to loosen his grip but that didn’t work and you took the opportunity to dig your nails into his neck too.
“G-Go to hell.” You managed to spit out, his eyes only darkening more. A wince leaving his mouth when your nails dag deeper.
The door opening caught both of your attention. San strolled in with a frown on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Did I walk in at the right or wrong time?”
Mingi’s grip loosened and he stood straight rubbing his neck. You coughed gasping for air, your throat completely dry.
“I won’t even ask.” San informed, you glared at the taller man in the room before standing up and heading to the door. “Yes, go run to Mr Song.” Mingi’s voice was heard before you slammed the large wooden door shut.
You pulled out the ringing phone and it was Mr Song. You put it on your ear hearing his cheerful voice.
“How did it go?” He asked.
“He’s out of control, Mr Song. Sales have dropped by 15% and the Parks no longer want to partner.”
“I will take care of him, go back to see him in a few days.”
-
You took a deep breath before opening the large doors. It was night and no one was in the company besides some security who let you know that Mingi was still in.
The office was dim and the chair was facing the city lights outside the large window. Mingi didn’t bother turning around. Your heels clacking in the silent room.
You bite your lip, this was a bit unusual. “Mingi?” He didn’t answer but you knew he was there, the chair might’ve had a long backrest but you could still see the man’s hair. You flicked the lamp near him on. You frowned moving even closer trying to see his face.
You almost gasped when his features came in sight. His lip was busted, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek and a light bruise around his eye. Mingi’s attention went on yours. He had a drink in his hand that he had now placed down and a bloody handkerchief.
“What happened to you?” You were now in front of him, looking down with concern drawn over your face. Your hand reaching out to the first aid kit next to him. You quickly pulled out wipes, you dapped it on the cut on his cheek making him wince. “Sorry.” You mumbled.
“Why would you get into a fight? The press conference is in a few days!” You stated purposely pressing hard on his cut. “He scratched my car, what did he expect?”
Your mouth almost fell open at the stupid excuse to start a fight. “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” You glared at him, he let out a small laugh. It was your first time seeing him genuinely laugh which made him bloom. “Read my mind.”
You started to clean the cut on his lip, the silence was comfortable for some reason. You felt his stare on you but you ignored that and continued with your task though shortly Mingi gently grabbed your wrist pushing your hand away.
Your eyes met and it felt like he had casted a spell on you. You didn’t realise how close you really were to him yet you didn’t move.
“If you stay that close, I’m going to kiss you.” He softly whispered, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you because he started leaning closer you stayed still like you were waiting for your lips to connect with his plump ones.
Mingi grabbed the back of your head closing the gap between you two. The kiss was anything but sweet. The taste of metallic coming in your mouth due to the cut on his lip but that didn’t bother you.
With his free hand he wrapped it around your waist pulling you down on his lap. You could feel his bludge growing by the second under you. Your hands wrapped around his dark hair, lightly tugging on it as you started to sway your hips making him let out a groan. Mingi pulled away latching his mouth on your neck, planting soft kisses down your chest as he took your blazer off and pulled your dress down revealing your hard nipples.
His thumb teasingly circled around your nipple causing a moan to escape. He grabbed your tit and his warm tongue danced around the nipple before sucking it.
“Oh god.” You murmured tugging more on his hair, you haven’t felt anything like this in a while. You felt the wetness between your legs and wanted more.
You stood up dropping to your knees and unbuttoned his pants, with his help they were pulled down. You bit your lip seeing how big he really is.
You grabbed his length in your hand and Mingi had a fistful of your hair pushing your head down. “Spit on it.” He ordered and you did as so but he took that chance to shove himself down your throat.
You started to bob your head, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. “Taking it like a good girl.” He smirked when you looked up at his face, your cheeks were rosy, your brows pinched together and your hair was messy since he was still tugging on it.
Mingi grabs your arms pulling you up in a second, he stood up and pushed you down on his desk. He lifted your dress up and ripped your stockings.
He moved your panties to the side as he leaned over you. “So wet for me.” He whispered biting your neck. Mingi took out a condom from his drawer and put it on after ripping off the package.
“Don’t flatter yoursel-” A moan cut you off when he positioned himself to your entrance and with no warning slammed into you, stretching you out.
“F-Fuck you.” You mumbled digging your nails into his shoulders, his pace was nowhere near gentle. “I’m already doing the fucking, doll.” Mingi licked your lips, grinning hard seeing the mess you were and how you barely were able to form words.
“I think I like you better when you’re moaning more than talking.” He purred against your neck, his thrusts not dying down.
He kept abusing your insides over and over. His hands were running down your body. He stood straight placing your leg on his shoulder and holding onto your hips keeping you in place as he kept slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow.
“You have a pretty cunt for such a horrible bitch.” He groaned watching how his length was disappearing inside you.
You pulled out the middle finger at him, you felt light headed from all the pleasure and the heat rushed through your body. You arched your back when he started to rub your swollen clit.
With one thrust he pushed himself so deep inside you, both of your hips now touching. No one’s ever been that deep and you loved it. Your legs twitched and you released over his cock. He jerked inside you with a groan you knew he was done.
He pulled out throwing the condom in the trash under his desk. Mingi fixed himself up, you were still on the desk unable to move. “Did I fuck you that good?” He smiled proud of himself making you roll your eyes.
He suddenly carried you making your arms wrap around his neck. Mingi gently placed you on the couch and covered you with the blanket. You felt sleep taking over you when he started to play with your hair.
“I didn’t get into a fight. I was jumped by Mr Song’s guard. Funny how my father shows his love, right?”
Twisted
#mingi x reader#mingi imagines#song mingi#mingi x you#mingi x y/n#ateez mingi#mingi smut#ateez fanfic#mingi ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez imagines#mingi scenarios
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never again — daryl dixon 🩰
in which you reunite with daryl after him being taken by the Saviours
note: i had to get this off my brain before i forgot about it & also it's not 100% story accurate as season 7 was so long ago for me lmao
You were a crack shot with a gun.
You were quick, reliable, efficient.
But nothing prepared you for this.
Negan.
Being on your knees, Lucille being swung around recklessly by the psychopath you'd met only moments ago, you were holding it together.
You'd seen a lot since the world had ended, done a lot, lost a lot. Something just felt worse about this, the not knowing, the complete and utter defeat plastered on every face around you.
You looked over to Daryl, who you'd only just seen again, being dragged out of a vehicle by one of the many ruffians. The two of you locked eyes for just a moment, hoping to not give anything away between the two of you. His eyes were desperate, helpless, full of every ounce of love his body could carry. Hoping he could give it to you in person soon.
You tried to be strong, for the group, for yourself, but this was a loss. There's no trying to be tough here, they had the upper hand. Negan was playing with everyone, playing a party game to choose who dies, laughing maniacally at the tears and shivers you all shared.
You lost your breath when the bat clocked Abraham's skull, diverting your eyes away out of pure fear.
Fear. At one point that was only reserved for the dead, but you'd come to realize humans were way worse.
Everything blurred together after that. Daryl having a moment of courage and clipping Negan before being held down once more. Glenn being hit. Your eyes burning and jaw hurting from clenching your teeth so hard.
It had taken every last bit of humanity out of you. You'd lost two parts of the family keeping you glued together.
And there was nothing you could do.
Your once bright demeanor swapped for one moodier, angrier, emptier.
Daryl had been taken by Negan, to be kept. Like a pet.
Your mouth dried as you saw him thrown into the back of a vehicle, like an animal, like he meant nothing to nobody.
But he meant something to you. The love of your life. The reason to want to survive this mess daily. He meant everything to you. Even from before, you'd never had a connection like this with anyone. Daryl understood you, knew you, cared so deeply for you, and you him.
You spoke about marrying, about finding a nice place to yourselves one day, about making a beautiful family to devote your time to.
You stayed in Alexandria, out of fear. You wanted to leave, you wanted to tell Negan to shove it, you wanted to side with Rosita and stand up for yourselves, like you always had.
But Negan having Daryl changed everything for you. You didn't want to do anything to put him in harm's way, you wanted him back.
Negan and his group would occasionally come in, take whatever they wanted, and leave. You'd see Daryl, all dirty with his head low. And you'd tell yourself it wasn't him. That wasn't your Daryl. He'd look at you, and you could still see him in there, but the looks were always fleeting. So you'd sit in your house, parts of your furniture gone, waiting for your turn with Lucille.
You'd sit on your porch, a blank stare cast over your face as you think about him. You'd sit out here together, reading a book to him as he massaged your legs that were propped up on his lap. You'd join him out here for a smoke, not to smoke but for company, and you'd talk to him about a cute thing Judith did that day, or what you thought your own kids would look like.
Nobody was happy living like this, trembling at the sound of the whistling, or the men just wandering around the streets and homes. But Rick was submitting, he had to. There was no other way.
You'd lost all motivation for anything, you'd force yourself on runs, finding resources for Negan. Then you'd come back, sometimes eat, but mostly sleep and think about Daryl.
There were small talks of a fight back, like Maggie had spoken about the morning after Negan. She was on Death's door last time you saw her, but you had hoped and prayed her and Sasha were okay. Rick had shut down every idea of fighting back, saying this is how to survive now. You'd even gone over to him, pleading to do something.
"Please, Rick," you cried, stood at his door with tears sliding down your cheeks, "I need him back."
"I know." Was all he said, pulling you into his arms. The comfort was nice, but these arms weren't the ones you wanted around you.
Then you'd lost Spencer, Eugene, and almost Rosita. Your emotions were burning inside of you, you felt like a spectator in this sick, twisted game.
Enough was enough.
"I'm fighting, Rick," you spoke, your voice low. Broken but determined. Michonne stood by you; you needed to go to war. There's no more lying down and taking it.
"We've lost so much, too much, for this to be our lives now." You cried, "I'm not losing anything else. Anyone else."
You were headed to Hilltop, where Maggie and Sasha were. You were hopeful for their health, and survival, and to see them both on the other side of those gates, was a sight for sore eyes.
"You were right," Rick said to Maggie, but you couldn't hear the rest. Your eyes had drowned out everything around you.
Your eyes, you thought, were playing tricks on you.
There he was.
You'd walked over to him, unsure if this was just another nightmare like the previous nights, or if this was him. Daryl. Standing in front of you.
The two of you just looked at each other, unable to comprehend what you were seeing. Until Daryl had opened his arms for you, crying into your shoulder as you were his. The two of you a sobbing mess in each other's limbs.
"I got ya back," he whispered, for only you to hear, "I've been thinking about ya every day. I couldn't stop."
"I'm here." You cried, holding him tighter against your body. "I'm not going anywhere, you're never leaving me again."
"I know, baby, I know."
#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon#daryl dixon incorrect quotes#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x reader#daryl x y/n#daryl imagines#daryl dixon fanfic#the walking dead daryl#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut
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And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)
[contains spoilers; tw: blood]
When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.
It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.
And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.
I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.
However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.
Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.
Let that sink in for a moment.
He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.
Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.
And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.
His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.
And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.
Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.
The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.
One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?
Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae
#Lovely Runner#Byeon Woo Seok#Kim Hye Yoon#Sun Jae#Im Sol#Seon Jae#선재 업고 튀어#kdrama#kdrama recommendations#east asian drama#episode reaction#I'm focusing on seon jae here because this scene will stay with me forever#and tbh I don't write a lot about im sol cuz it's too traumatizing to think through her perspective T_T
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Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader | 18+, NSFW, fluff, smut | ~2,700 words
a/n: This is a request from my girl, @bboutabbagg. Sorry for the wait and ily!
Happy reading! Read my other Bloodline stories here. ✨
The music was loud but charming, the DJ that Jey hired playing your favorite song as it wafted through the speakers of his backyard that people grooved in as they held their red cups—or as they held their plates and sat along the picnic tables enjoying the catered bbq and seafood. It was your and his family and friends all coming together to have a good time and celebrate you for graduating from nursing school.
The tealights that twinkled all around the space competed with the stars in the sky as Jey stood behind you with his arms draped on your waist covered in a cute, form-fitting dress to sway with him to the beat as well, his husky voice all soft as he mumbled in your ear, "I'm so proud of you, baby."
You couldn't help the little smile that pulled at your lips as you knew he meant it. Taking in the extravagant party he'd put together for you—as well as the gift table that held big, elegantly wrapped boxes you knew were mostly from him—along with his little smile you felt on your cheek before you kissed there, you felt blessed to have a boyfriend that cared so much and showed it.
"Thank you. Still can't believe you did all this, good god," you said with a blush and put your hands around his that were settled on your hips. The 3D photo booth was occupied by your young cousins making duck faces. The tattoo artist sat beneath her tealight-adorned tent touching up the colors on his twin brother's older ink on his shoulder. There was even a blackjack table where your and his uncles were hollering and laughing at the hand someone dealt. You wanted to be surprised Jey went all out like this, but for the couple of years you'd been dating, he'd made it obvious his love language was acts of service.
He sucked his teeth with an affectionate squeeze around you before he agreed with your thoughts and said, "You think I'mma let my girl do her big one without a celebration? You know me betta than that."
"Yeah, I do. Love you." You craned your neck to glance at him and tug at his black dress shirt collar.
Yet he caught your lips that brushed his with a kiss that you smiled into, especially when you heard your little cousins oooooing at you both before he detached from you with a quick "I love you, too, bae," to playfully chase them away before he scooped up one of them to swing around on his shoulders.
The fun night went on until every last guest left with a big hug to you before you and Jey retired to his bedroom for a shower and, finally, bed. You didn't live together as you had your own apartment across town, but you might as well have because his closet was full of your clothes and pajamas—and yet you still opted for one of his gray t-shirts that fit you like a dress as you laid next to him beneath the comforter. Jey was on his back and scrolling through his phone as you lay your head on his bare chest and peeped up to see him browsing an article that listed "the best things to do in Cancún."
"Uhhh, you going to Mexico soon for work?" you asked with your curious eyes flickering up to him. That made him giggle before he put his phone on his nightstand.
"Look atchu bein' nosey." He slid his arm around your waist to jostle you until you giggled, too. "Naw, not for work. For you."
"Wait, you're planning a trip for me? For what?"
"C'mon now. You really thought all you was gettin' for your graduation was a party? Be for real." Jey planted a kiss on your hair and you shook your head in surprise.
"You know I appreciate you, but damn, babe! What am I supposed to get you when your birthday comes up? Or when you win King of the Ring, huh? I can't top you." You were half-joking but it was always a struggle to think of ways to treat your boyfriend who seemed to have it all.
But he only grinned at you as he leaned over to cut off the lamp at his bedside, bathing the room in black, save for the glimmer of moonlight beyond his curtains. His dark eyes still shone with that same glimmer, an almost mischievousness that flashed in them, as he held you and let his lips leave little kisses along your cheek before they found yours and murmured on them, "You ain't gotta 'top' me, bae. Just lemme spoil you. Can I do that? Is that alright witchu?"
Jey let a kiss linger on your lips between each sentence, his hand that wasn't cradling your head beneath your pillow cupping your jaw as he made you look at him. You nodded with a smile that he kissed and you kissed him back, your arms falling over his broad shoulders as you fell deeper into the softness of his full lips that you nearly whimpered to be separated from when he trailed those lips to your jaw, your neck, and then your chest.
He was shirtless, which let you run your hands along his warm, smooth, tatted skin as he rolled up his shirt on you until he lifted it over your head to throw it to the floor. He let you feel more of his warmth when he climbed on top of you, your now bare body spiking the temperature beneath his sheets as it combined with his, moreover when his warm, huge hands found your breasts to hold to his lips for more kisses.
Your boyfriend truly did love to spoil you, even with his mouth as he took his time giving each mound of flesh in his gentle grasp kisses, suckles, and licks of his tongue that hardened your nipples underneath it. You didn't hide how good it felt as you chimed with soft moans each time Jey pulled his lips around your nipples, knowing the sound of you felt good to him, too, as you could feel his length growing hard and pressing to your belly behind his black boxers briefs.
"Swear I can make you cum just like this," Jey whispered to your cleavage before he kissed it and glimpsed at you right as your face twisted with a whimper slipping from your lips from his thumbs gliding over your nipples that were slick from his mouth. "You so sexy, baby...everything about you and on you..."
You whimpered again when he dipped his head back down to curl his tongue around your left nipple as he continued to thumb your right, feeling his length twitch at the sound before his entire body did, readjusting himself so you felt his next twitch against your bare clit. And that felt dangerously good..."You got me close, baby...keep going. Just like that."
Jey's little rocks of his hips to nudge his tip to your sweet spot as he massaged and slurped sweetly on your nipples had you rocking your hips beneath him as you tried to push yourself over the edge, the tingling deliciousness on the tip of his tongue as your heart raced to meet you at your finish...but then he pulled away. Your eyes flitted open with shock but he hid his face in the crook of your neck with kisses, his hands freeing themselves from your breasts to grip your waist as he whispered in your ear, "I said I can make you cum like that...didn't say I would. Now get on them knees for me."
"Baby, really? You're going to do me like that? I thought you said you wanted to spoil me," you panted with a stubborn pout when Jey patted your thigh until you rolled over onto your knees. You heard him remove his boxers before he sat on his knees behind you and you hid your smirk as you knew your boyfriend would spoil you, even if he liked to tease and drag it, something you cherished because he would cherish you until you came undone for him.
And that's why you quietly chuckled when Jey got on his elbows with his sultry breath grazing your wet, warm essence that opened for him with his hands on your ass. You knew you would get your way...especially when he pushed his tongue into you to taste how close you still were for him. The man made it feel dangerously good all over again, his tongue just as dangerous with those long, greedy laps on each fold of you, on every spot that quivered for him, his tip tracing them and loving on them until your nails tried to claw his sheets as that delicious tingling returned with a vengeance.
"Jeyyy, baby..." was all you could whimper as you felt his tongue pushing in deeper, pushing you to the edge. He moaned into your wetness that slipped into his salt-and-pepper beard, savoring your pleasure that was about to swallow you whole—but then he withdrew from you again. "Jey, are you serious?!"
Your nostrils flared along with your entire body that radiated from the heat of being so close but being denied a second time. Now you were glaring back at him as he sat back again but kept his hands on your ass with his thumbs holding you open to lovingly stare at you.
"What, bae? You act like you don't like when I play with it..." He let his fingers dip into your soft, gushy folds until they caressed your clit to make you throb around them.
"When I make you wait for it..." He let the fingers of his other hand dip into your hair as he gently pushed your head onto his pillow until it caught your moan from him slowly dipping the head of his thick length into you.
"When I make you beg for it..." Jey then let those fingers slip around your throat to pin you down, hunching over you with his pointer and middle fingers swirling on your clit, matching the swirls of his dick as he carefully thrust deeper, his voice deeper and huskier when it touched your ear. "Mmm...I'mma make you cum, baby. But I need to hear you ask for it nicely."
"Baby, can you please...stop fucking with me and make me cum?" you managed to moan with his strong fingers softly clamped around your throat, your demanding tone making him clamp down a bit harder from you denying him. You usually liked your boyfriend's teasing but being on the edge this long was making you testy. And that made Jey test your limits more with deep strokes that winded in and out and on that spot that had you squeezing him and squeezing your eyes shut before he hit harder...
"You think you funny, huh?" Jey growled from behind you, his hand traveling from your clit to your asscheek that he gripped and smacked lightly with a warning spank that made you moan louder. You wanted to smile as you buried your face in his pillow, but you bit your lip instead as you knew being a brat would make him want to punish you. His steady strokes tunneled to the depths of you where he tapped hard and felt your body shiver on him. "But you gettin' close...so what I say? Ask me nice..."
It felt so good that your mind was trying to get fuzzy with those tingles that spread throughout you, trying to make you give in to him when it should be him giving into you and pushing you over the edge. "Stay right there, baby. Please..."
"Naw, that ain't nice enough..." Jey mumbled before he pulled out. Your body shivered for a different reason, tears of frustration and pleasure dotting your eyes as a cry sounded from your throat. The build was too delicious and the tingles had already claimed your limbs...but Jey merely reclined on his heels as he claimed your hips in his hands to add gruffly, "Thought I was playin', bae?"
His hands ran up the sides of your body before fitting between it and the bed to cup your breasts as he pulled you onto your knees and to his body, his soft lips covering your throat with kisses. When his hand covered it next, you moaned, that moan tapering off into a whine as your boyfriend pressed the tip of his length to your opening. You tried to sit on it, the tingles on your skin and the fuzziness on your mind keeping you needy even though you wanted to curse his cute ass out. But Jey held you up with one arm slung around your waist and a dark chuckle on his lips.
"Aht aht. Just ask for it, baby..." His grip on your throat and waist, along with his head just skimming your little entrance as you tried to grip around him, made a tear roll down your cheek as your body reeled from being denied yet again. You felt like you had no choice but to surrender to him and let him spoil you with what you needed...
"Please...please...can you make me cum, Daddy? Please," you heard yourself whine, the words quickly drowned out by your moans that brushed the ceiling when your head fell onto his shoulder...when he finally let you drown him in your wet that he soaked deep in, stroked deep in. Your orgasm rushed up on you before he could say another word, your body so desperate for him that the slightest contact of him wedging himself on your spot over and over made you lightheaded.
"Feels good when you listen to Daddy, don't it?" Jey said in your ear with his hands kneading for your breasts to keep you upright when you tried to fall forward. He toyed with your nipples between his thick fingers, sending those warm tingles to your core with each rush of your orgasm, softly moaning with you, "Stay right here with me, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"You make me feel so good, Daddy...ohmygod," you whined to him in erratic whimpers, the raspy sound growing more erratic when Jey pushed you back down to the bed and gathered your hips in his hands. His hips then began to move with a quickness, abandoning the slow strokes for pounding strokes that took your breath away altogether. You didn't try to run but instead clutched behind you at him and his sheets again to keep you from sliding up them. He took your hand in his, his touch so delicate with his backshots so brutal, so dedicated to your spot that you felt a second, powerful orgasm crashing into you. You squeezed his hand as you fluttered around his length that throbbed in you from feeling you give in to him again, hearing you cry for him as you sobbed his name into his pillow.
"Goddamn, baby," Jey uttered before he jerkily stumbled back right as his length began to drip that he aimed at your essence still fluttering for him. Your mind was blank with pleasure yet you instinctively reached your middle fingers between your thighs to ease into yourself and ride out the delicious feeling, loving how delicious it felt to feel warm, sticky ropes of your boyfriend's pleasure drip to your knuckles as he groaned for you.
You groaned back but couldn't form words just yet when you breathed heavily as Jey took hold of your waist to kiss up your spine until his kisses met your cheek.
"Breathe for me, baby...mmm. You did so good for me," Jey breathed to you as he nuzzled his nose to your cheek with a kiss. You were trying your best but he and you both knew the best remedy was for him to put his arms around you and keep you close as you settled. You cozied up to him as he lay behind you and pulled you to him, a whispery chuckle escaping him when you trembled from his fingertips trailing up your belly. "Told you I'd spoil you and you ain't wanna listen. Now look."
"Don't talk shit when...I'm too tired to defend myself," you breathed to him and made him chuckle again as he kissed your shoulder.
"Just statin' facts. You know I'mma take care of you...even when you wanna show out..." Jey got you to smile with his fingers tickling your belly as he left another kiss on your shoulder. "...'Cause you deserve it, bae."
.
.
.
Spoiled
Thanks for reading! Y'all know I don't write for Jeyson anymore (even though my deleted Jey fics are still circulating on here 🙄) but I owed my girl this story since last year. 😭
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2nd Chances
Nico and I have been friends since we were kids. We did every single thing together. From coloring in kindergarten to joining the wrestling team in high school, we were ceremonial twins essentially despite are vastly different racial backgrounds. Hell we even came out as Bi to one another at the same time.
We were always on the same page until we got to college. It's so silly in retrospect. I could have never foreseen that we would like the same person and that it would lead to such a big fight that we both stormed off to cool down. He went for a run on campus and I got in my car and sped off, but so did this speeding truck that ran a red light.
I was in the hospital for 3 months and every day Nico would stop by and stay by my side crying, pleading, wishing for me to wake up. But when that 3rd month ended, so did doctor's hope that I would ever wake up.
I remember hearing Nico hysterically crying telling the doctors to fix me. There was no fixing me.
The night before they were set to take me off life support, Nico layed in my hospital bed with me. That's when he made the wish.
"I don't want to lose you Emil but I'm going to live out everything you've wanted to accomplish. I just wish I could do more so you could be the one to live our your dreams."
I woke up the next day and picked up my phone...what? How am I picking up my phone? Wait this isn't my phone? But it unlocked to my face? I fiddled my fingers to open up the selfie camera.
"Nico?" I gasped.
The bed I was in was empty. Someone from the hospital came to break the news to me that "Emil" passed away at night ahead of them disconnecting "him" from life support. They had staff place me in another bed while "his" family mourned.
"If I'm Nico does that mean...no....it can't"
I couldn't believe this he didn't make a wish to die, but then I sensed I wasn't alone. I got up and searched the room. But no one was there. Instead I heard a voice but it was inside my head.
"Hello? What's going on?" the voice said.
I couldn't wrap my head around all of these new developments. I felt like I was about to faint and honestly thought I did. But then the body I'm in braced itself and spoke out loud without me doing it.
"Woah. What just happened? I was like watching myself move but not controlling?" Nico's body said.
That's when it clicked
"Nico is that you in here?" I yelled in an exasperated glee.
Nico and I headed to a cafe where he got a coffee and we spoke in our weird new internalized way. I told him to put his headphones on so no one would think he was crazy.
We never thought a wish would lead to something beyond scientific explanation. It felt like we were always hugging one another, just surrounded by each others platonic love. I was so glad I didn't have to lose him even though it meant I lost my body.
Weeks went by and it was hard for me. Anytime I took control of Nico's body I felt like I was putting a show on pretending. But that's not me. I think the best perk of being in the same body was Nico being present and co-experiencing my emotions.
"You don't have to pretend to be me. We can just make a new 'Nico'. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you're unhappy or trapped Emil." Nico said giving me the closest thing he could to a consoling hug.
Over the next few days we talked about boundaries about our new Nico.
No partners without both agreeing. No major tattoos and piercings without both agreeing. You might be sensing a theme here. The new Nico was a democracy, but at least I didn't have to be hyper masculine like I thought he wanted me to be. If anything my flamboyant nature was something he said he always wanted to channel more but felt too insecure to do.
Becoming one person felt like we were actually 2 halves finally returning together for the greater good.
But at the end of the day, we're still 2 college aged bi dudes. When we went out it was the best of both world times 2. We turned looks that channeled both our vibes but also our drive was insatiable. It may just be one body but partners had to please 2 sex drives.
In the semi-rare occasion we both agreed on one person to go home with, we destroyed them, especially men. Those became our favorite interactions only because it was easier to flip and f*ck.
I'd start leading them on letting them think they'd get to top such a beefy and submissible bottom which was true. Nico's body was not a bottom before I got here but he absolutely should have. His butt was almost asking to be spread and eaten. These thighs from years of wrestling and collegiate sports allowed me to just ride for an hour if I wanted. By the time they were done and we're glistening in sweat and panting, Nico tagged in.
He's the definition of a fuckboy with the way he lays pipe. He knew all the right ways to treat you before impaling you with his sizably thick dick. I'll never forget the face of the first guy we flipped. He was looking at us so surprised with eyes that almost look like he was hungry for us. Back and forth, thrusting until they moan unbelievably loud from the lengthy sessions. I don't know how NIco was cumming before but he's definitely cumming enough for 2 people with the way we climax now.
We're glad to be together now....no more than anything I'm glad to be Nico now, too.
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Being Mated to Cassian
Cassian x reader
summary: a bunch of scenarios of what its like to be mated to Cassian
warnings: none!
~●○°●○°●○~
I feel like Cassian’s the kind of guy you’d have a best-friend's relationship with. Let me explain. Starting in the morning:
You glanced at the clock then at your mate still snoring soundly in bed and sighed. You and Cassian were supposed to be at the Townhouse in thirty minutes yet this male was still asleep.
Rolling your eyes, you marched up to the bed. Cassian looked so peaceful laying on his side, face partially buried in the pillow, and hair swept over his face. What you were feeling at the moment looking at him might even be mistaken for adoration. You picked up a pillow and slammed it on Cassian’s face.
“Ow!” Cassian screamed, sitting upright in bed. “What was that for?” he asked.
“Get up! It's 12. We need to be at the Townhouse by 12:30!” you said and walked towards the closet to get ready.
Cassian groaned loudly, plopping back into bed. “5 more minutes,” he mumbled.
Just as he was about to slip back into that peaceful slumber, you grabbed his shoulder to turn him onto his back and captured his lips into a kiss. Now he’s definitely awake.
You pulled away for a second and said, “Good morning,” then kissed him again.
“What are you doing? I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” he said.
You smiled. “I don’t care,” and kissed him one last time before pulling him up and out of bed.
When Cassian gets injured and you’re tending to his wounds:
He’s sitting in a chair while you’re perched on his lap, inspecting the gash on his wing near his shoulder that he got during training with Azriel. Your concerned frown already tells him that you’re upset he wasn’t more careful.
“Y/n, I’m fine,” he says but he’s quieted by one look from you.
You pick up the antiseptic-soaked cotton and gently dab it onto the wound. Cassian hisses from the burning, eliciting a mumbled apology from you. You hold his face gently with one hand, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek in a comforting gesture.
He looks up at you with utter adoration, completely enamoured by your gentle and loving yet strict nature.
Finally, when you’re done, you look into Cassian’s eyes and find some of the anger dissipating.
You smile, gently holding his face between and kissing his forehead. Cassian leans into you, closing his eyes in comfort. You loop your arms around his neck and hug him. Your cheek rests on his forehead, and you sway side to side slowly.
“You gotta be more careful, Cassie,” you mutter and kiss his head again.
He looks up at you, kissing your lips in reassurance. “I’m okay, really. It's not that big of a deal.”
“I know,” you mumble. “But I don’t wanna wait for the day it is a big deal.”
Cassian’s heart stutters for a second. Finally, he smiles and says, “I’ll be more careful next time. Promise.”
Going shopping with Cassian
“How's this?” he walks out of the fitting room wearing a tunic.
“No,” you shake your head immediately.
“Why? What's wrong with it?” he asked, looking down at himself to see if he was not wearing it right.
“It looks like an oven is wearing a tunic, Cassie,” you reply.
“Damn, baby,” he says and walks back into the fitting room to try something else on.
But god forbid anyone says anything to Cassian while you’re there
The IC was sitting in the living of the House of Wind, laughing and chatting about different things all that once. Cassian said something in response to what Amren said in a conversation between her and Nesta.
Immediately, Amren and Mor started jesting Cassian, calling him an unintelligent brute.
You knew it was all fun and games and neither of them really meant it, but you saw the light leave Cassian’s eyes.
You glared daggers in their direction, demanding them they take it back right now or the consequences would not be pretty regardless of how powerful either of them was. When it comes to your mate, no amount of power will stop you from hurting whoever dares to hurt your mate.
They immediately stopped laughing at the look you gave them.
“We didn’t mean it, Cassian, I hope you know that. We’re sorry,” Mor immediately said and looked to you for approval.
You gave a slight nod in response but didn’t smile to let her know apologising did not make this behaviour okay.
Rhysand watched the entire interaction with cunning eyes, internally laughing at how adorable your protective instincts were.
“You found yourself a good one, brother,” he mind spoke to Cassian.
We all know that Cassian is everyone’s rock in difficult situations. He’s the positive one who manages to make a joke out of every situation, makes a problem not seem like a problem and keeps everyone sane during difficult times. Sometimes, though, all of that gets to him and leads to very bad mental health days where he needs someone to be his rock and take care of him.
Cassian lays in bed on his side, turned away from the door where you stood. You knew he hadn’t gotten out of bed since morning. That was already concerning given this male never skips a day of training but you just thought he was tired from last night the IC had spent at Rita’s where the two of you had danced and drank a lot.
Now, you weren’t so sure.
You approached the bed slowly, deliberately making your footsteps loud so he wouldn’t be startled. You stroked the bond lovingly, but he kept his side firmly closed.
You laid a gentle hand on his arm, thumb drawing soothing circles into his skin.
“Cassie,” you called softly. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Cassian didn’t reply but he opened his side of the bond, letting you feel what he felt at the moment. Immediately, negative thoughts and an overwhelming sadness engulfed your heart. Your breath stuttered for a second from the pain of what your mate was going through.
You moved to the other side of the bed and laid down so you were now facing Cassian. His dim eyes flicked to yours and you stroked his cheek lovingly.
“I’m here, love,” you said softly.
That was all Cassian needed to hear. He moved closer to you and you laid on your back, giving him room to rest his head on your chest. Your arms wound protectively around him, one hand scratching his scalp lightly. He sighed against you, melting into your embrace, and fell asleep feeling safe and loved and protected.
tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites
#cassian fanfic#cassian imagine#cassian x y/n#cassian x you#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#a court of thorns and roses fanfic
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Old Wound
Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Death, Brief Strong Language
Word Count: 1,167
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: She was supposed to be dead. He held her while she died in his arms. How is she here?
“You ever think about what’s gonna happen when we’re dead, cowpoke?” She asked.
It was a cool night, probably winter now if Cooper was remembering right. It had been so long since he felt a proper winter that he was not sure after all these years. He turned his head to the woman that was resting on his chest as they huddled around a fire to keep away the chill.
“You on drugs or somethin’?” Cooper’s serious tone made the woman burst out with laughter. She pushed herself up so that she was level with his face to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.
“No but, you’ve survived centuries. I may get a few decades if I’m lucky. I was just wondering if you’ve ever thought about what’ll happen when we die.” Her repeated question did not even make The Ghoul miss a beat.
“We’re gonna become food for someone or somethin’ else. That’s what’s gonna happen.” He stated, trying to get the woman to lay back down.
“I meant the afterlife, baby. Like do you think that there’s the pearly gates, or just nothingness?” She laid back down and let the man run his ungloved hand over her head, and through her hair.
“I hope there’s an afterlife, but if there is anything these last couple centuries have taught me is that God is cruel. So whatever is waiting for us, we take it as it comes.” Howard pressed a kiss in the wake of his hand and felt the woman relax into him. That answer seemed to pacify her as they settled in for the night and went to bed.
If only he could ask her what was waiting for them on the other side of death’s embrace. It had only been a couple weeks and the sting was still fresh, but you know cowpokes. They take it as it comes. Cooper had been traveling alone this entire time with a chip on his shoulder, and saddened eyes.
Walking into Filly, there was a vacancy in his pouch where his chems would be. The thought alone made him want to shoot something. She always got his chems for him because they would give the pretty girl a discount, but the ghoul behind her would get nothing. He had not needed to get his own since she began traveling with him a couple of years ago.
A sign on the door pointed him to where he needed to go. His spurs clinked against the wooden floors as he went inside the little apothecary. There was a bell that he ringed, and soon a man stepped out from behind a curtain.
“Sixty chems.” The Ghoul left no room for small talk, and set the necessary caps on the counter between them. Without a word, the man disappeared and retrieved the items for the mutant. Each man pocketed their own items and said nothing as they turned to go back to what they were doing before.
As soon as Cooper stepped out, gasps and shouts were heard through the downtown area. At first he thought it was him; ghouls were not exactly welcomed in many parts, especially him. But it was not. A woman in distressed clothing was walking around and looking for someone or something with desperation in her eyes. Looking at her from underneath the lip of his hat, The Ghoul thought that her clothing was remarkably familiar.
“Get lost, Ghoul. You ain’t welcome round here.” One of the shopkeepers shouted at the woman, who was clearly very lost. She said nothing as she kept looking around and did not even respond to the man. However she did respond when someone threw something at her. Trying to protect herself, she reached for something on her hip, only for that object to not be there. It was not until she turned around the Cooper felt his breath catch and his heart stop.
It was her. His little spitfire girl was right in front of him. There was no way though. She had bled out in his arms. She died in his arms. He felt the last breath leave her body, and her pulse stop. And yet, here she was. Standing in front of him as if nothing had happened. The sound of a gun cocking caught his attention, as well as the end of a barrel trained on the woman. In an instant, Howard shot the assailant first before he had time to harm the woman. She did not flinch, but rather calmly looked to where he stood and gasped out his name in a hushed whisper.
Cooper marched right up to her, and observed. Not a hair was different from the last time he had seen her. He did not even allow for another moment to pass as he grabbed her arm and began to drag her from the market. Once they were in a quiet part, he let go and could not hold his tongue.
“Who the hell are you? Why are you wearin’ her clothes?” Cooper demanded, holding his gun out to point at the woman.
“What- what are you talking about. Coop, it’s me. This isn’t funny.” She pleaded, feeling afraid as this was the first time in years that she had been at the end of his gun.
“Prove it,” he breathed, “what did you tell me you hoped was waiting for us in death?”
“I never told you.” She whispered. “But you told me that no matter what, we cowpokes take it as it comes, so it didn’t matter. Please Coop. Just put the gun down.”
With a deep breath in and out, he did as she asked. Cooper rushed forward and took in another deep breath, this time with the scent of her. But there was something off about her scent. It smelt much more… ghoulish. Pulling away, he saw her same eyes staring back at him. Those same eyes that he begged to open just one more time a few weeks ago.
“How?” Cooper asked, running his hands everywhere he could.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what I am, or what happened that I came back. All I know is that one minute I’m in your arms, and the next I’m picking myself up off the ground and all alone.” She repeated the process of running her hands everywhere she could as her lover was doing to her.
“Hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but I think you’re a little like me. Who the hell knows with all the radiation bullshit.” He whispered, chuckling lightly at the face she pulled when he proposed his theory.
“I guess there are worse things to be. I’m just glad I found you again.” Cooper was brought into a tight embrace, as she buried her face into his chest and breathed in his scent.
“Me too, darlin’. Me too.” He whispered back, pressing kisses to her hair as he was glad to just hold her in his arms again.
#rebelliousstories#writing#fallout#fallout imagine#cooper howard#cooper howard imagine#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul#cooper howard x oc#the ghoul fallout#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul imagine#the ghoul x oc
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sleepless nights
katsuki bakugo x reader, slow burn, hurt x comfort, anxiety, fluff, sfw
part 1/?
It was late. You shouldn’t even be awake, but you couldn’t sleep with all that was going on in the world.
So you decided to do something productive: bake. You needed something to focus your energy onto and who didn’t love cookies? You were sure your dorm mates would appreciate some in the morning when they all awoke.
You had very minimal lighting, but were wearing your glasses so that wasn’t an issue. You also had a pair of earbuds in one ear so you could monitor for any noise or disturbances you may be causing by being up so late into the night. The music was soft and meant to be soothing, you hoped it might make you sleepy with time, but it didn’t take and eventually you sat down next to the oven while you waited for your timer to run out.
“What are you doing?”
You nearly jumped, your hand coming up to clutch your chest as you pulled out your earbud and looked up at the person standing there.
“Jesus, you’re quiet.”
“And you’re not.” The blond countered.
You frowned at him,“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
Bakugo sat down across from you, eyes glancing at the oven briefly before looking at you again,“How much longer?”
You glanced at your phone before looking at him and shrugging,“Seven minutes.”
He said nothing as he turned on the stove and placed a pot of water on. He stood and watched it until it was hot enough to pour into a mug with a teabag hanging off the side. He held it out to you, your eyes focused on the fact that it was his mug, his favorite color, his initial, his.
“For me?” You asked, unsure.
“Drink.” He said.
You took it and slowly took a sip, the tea was unfamiliar in taste and you figured it might also be one of his. Usually Yaoyorozu was the one to offer you tea, you weren’t well versed in them, but did enjoy the taste whenever you had one.
“Did I really wake you up?” You asked as guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.
To your knowledge, Bakugo was a heavy sleeper.
He eyed your timer again.
“No.”
“Oh.”
You didn’t really know what else to say. You stopped the timer before it could make noise and stood up, placing the mug on the counter and picking up an oven mitt instead. The cookies smelt amazing as you pulled them out and part of you wanted to taste one, but the other part worried you’d get judged for eating it so late. Instead, you placed them on a rack to cool and took another sip of the tea.
You felt his gaze on you.
“Aren’t you gonna eat one?” He asked.
You shrugged for the second time,“They’re too hot right now, maybe tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow.” He deadpanned.
There was no way your face wasn’t red as embarrassment flooded your mind, now you felt even worse for him being awake despite him saying it wasn’t your fault. The heat of the tea concealed your blush but fogged up your glasses, which was arguably even more mortifying, as you suddenly remembered that you were wearing them. No one ever saw you in them. You always made sure to wear your contacts in class and in costume for training, around anyone besides your parents.
Before you could do anything about it, the frames were plucked off your face and you watched dumbfounded as Bakugo used his t-shirt to clear them back up for you. You briefly eyed the tiny sliver of skin exposed by him using his shirt.
“Why can’t you sleep?” He brought the lenses up to his eyes to make sure they were good before placing them back on your face.
The question was unexpected, the whole interaction was, in fact. He was the last person you’d expect to care. Well… you didn’t know if he actually cared but still. You gulped, did you want to confide in him? You were never really close, I mean, sure, he didn’t yell at you the way he did the others and often times you’d worked together and managed to take care of your assignments without arguing. But you weren’t friends. At best, he tolerated you.
While you continued to hesitate, he walked over to the rack of cookies and plucked two out of the bunch. He bit into one, showing no signs of liking or hating it.
“How is it?” You couldn’t help seek validation, even if it was from him.
He held out the second cookie to you and you took it. One bite, two, they were fucking amazing. Not to toot your own horn, but if you were good at anything, it was baking.
He finished his off but said nothing on the taste or quality, you had a feeling chocolate chip wasn’t his favorite but didn’t dare ask what was.
“You gonna answer my question?”
You sighed and took another slow sip of tea before the mug was pulled from your hands and you watched Bakugo tip it back and down the rest. You watched with an open mouth as you didn’t know whether to be offended since he’d made it for you or go red at the fact that he’d drink from the same cup as you without care. As he rinsed the mug in the sink and set it down to wash later, he looked back at you with raised brows, okay…
“I’m worried.” You fidgeted with your fingers now that you didn’t have the mug to hold onto,“About Midoriya, about the fate of Japan… the world, actually. I wonder how it’ll all end, and whether all of us will—”
Your voice cracked, you took a deep breath,“You know?”
He sighed. “You gonna cry?”
Okay, that kinda hurt, you thought to yourself. Stubbornly, you held in your remaining feelings as you shook your head, you couldn’t say no or else you’d definitely shed a tear or two.
“Worrying won’t help him, or any of us.” He spoke up after a second,“What you need is rest, so that when they need us we’re able to do something. I know it’s all words or whatever, but that’s about all I can offer. Put your shit away, I’ll walk you back to your room, that tea should be kicking in any minute now.”
You looked at him with a questioning gaze and he scoffed.
“Relax. I didn’t slip you anything, I drank some too. It’s just some shit I buy, it soothes and helps you sleep. C’mon, I’m tired.”
You nodded and left it at that, quickly working to put your baked goods in a cute cookie jar you’d purchased once and writing a note for your classmates to help themselves and that they were fresh. You added that you’d clean up your dishes in the morning and your initials at the end with a smiley face. When you turned back around, Bakugo was waiting and he let you walk ahead of him.
It didn’t take long to reach you door, but when you did what he said surprised you.
“Leave your door open. Mine will be too.” He didn’t say it, but the implication was there. He’d be there if you needed anything.
“Okay.” Was all you responded with.
You didn’t know if it was the tea, or the fact that you felt a little lighter after telling someone a bit of what you were feeling, but you were definitely starting to feel tired and you couldn’t help reach up to rub one of your eyes.
“Nice glasses.” He teased.
You were thankful for the darkness to hide your blush as he ended it with,“Night.”
He was already walking away when you whispered so low he surely couldn’t have heard it,“Night… Bakugo.”
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#part one ??#unedited
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Thoughts of the Past, Fears of the Future
A Rafe Cameron Oneshot
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 4.9k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
OONA'S MASTERLIST
request for @starkeylvu
requests are currently CLOSED
all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.
Summary: Reader suffered a traumatic accident at the hands of her stalker. In wake of her attack, she returns to the world with no memories of the last year of her life. Determined to get her somewhere safe & back on her feet, reader's boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, brings her to his hometown. But reader's memories are returning sooner than later & the man whose face is blurred from that night is beginning to look a lot like the boyfriend beside her...
Rafe Cameron was the foundation of everything you knew, & you meant that. When you woke up in the hospital he was the first face you saw. The doctors explained to you what had happened, & he held your hand the whole time.
“You were attacked.” Your primary doctor revealed.
“Your boyfriend,” he gestured to the handsome stranger sitting in a chair besides your bed, “reported you missing to the local authorities two days prior to you being found.”
“Where was I found?” The voice that came from you didn’t sound like your own, It was hoarse, shaky, full of fear.
“On the side of a road outside the city.”
A brief flash of headlights blurred your vision & you held your head.
“I think that’s enough for today.” Your boyfriend had said to the doctor.
That was a month ago. Rafe had filled you in on the rest of the story.
You had a stalker. There was no name or face that you could recall. But Rafe told you that in the weeks leading up to your disappearance that you revealed to him your concerns. He insisted on wanting to go to the police, at file a report so it was on record if your stalker ever crossed into dangerous waters, but apparently you had more faith.
But your faith only landed you in the hospital. Rafe recited to you how on the night you disappeared you were supposed to be getting off from work late. Because of your concerns regarding your stalker, Rafe was to pick you up. But you had gotten off an hour earlier than planned & when you tried calling Rafe that night he had his phone on silence, missing your call. You assumed you would be safe enough to get home on your own. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
Your stalker attacked you at some point between your work & home, & all of it was lost to you. Not just the nights you were taken, but the entire last year, including your boyfriend.
You had no memory of the man who you called boyfriend.
He said that the two of you had only been dating for seven months, having met at a work party. The relationship was casual at first—sex mainly—but eventually evolved into a full-blown relationship.
That startled you when you first heard it. From what you knew about yourself, you weren’t a ‘casual’ kind of girl. In fact, you had only had sex once before & it was in college when you were young & naïve. Since then, you never really had another opportunity nor cared to seek one out.
But Rafe recalled you having made the first move. He said that the two of you had been flirtatious all night but after a few drinks it was you who suggested going back to your place. That information alone was more than enough for you to handle.
You grew angry towards Rafe, accusing him of lying to you because you knew that you had never once in your life being that kind of woman. You were a loner, always had been. Growing up in an orphanage had been a constant reminder that you were not wanted. It shaped your view of the world & made you a quiet person with a bitter surface. Whatever Rafe was feeding you tasted like shit & you called him out on it.
It was only then that Rafe told you the truth: the real truth.
“I’m sorry…” He hung his head low as he sat on the foot of your shared be. Apparently you two had moved in together rather quickly. After confessing your concerns about your stalker to Rafe, he moved in to be closer.
“I have been lying…” You felt your face sour at his admittance.
“But not for the reasons you think.” You hadn’t gotten that far in your own thought process: the why. But since he had mentioned, your thoughts ran rampant with that single question. Why?
“You had it rough before, _____.” He began, looking solemnly into your eyes, “You were depressed, lonely, you were even shutting me out.”
That made you frown but your suspicions had yet to disappear.
“Our sex life wasn’t as great as I’m making it out to be. But we did have one.” Rafe sighed heavily, reaching for your hands which you reluctantly let him, “You weren’t the flirtatious, confident person I’m making you out to be, but I thought that if I made you believe you were you’d, I don’t know, feel better?”
“Lying to me would make me feel better?” You pointed out.
“I know, I know.” Rafe shook his head in shame, “I just didn’t know what else to do. It killed me seeing you like that every day. And then when you finally told me about the stalker… I felt helpless. You were getting worse. Not taking my calls, not answering your door, not even showing up to work. I thought the worst!”
He blinked his eyes rapidly, & it was then you noticed his eyes had begun to water.
“So, I insisted on moving in. You put up one hell of a fight, you did, but I had to, scared that if that creepy faceless fuck didn’t get to you that your mind would.”
The room was silent for some time as you absorbed his words. You felt it was more accurate then the bullshit he fed you before but you still felt wary. Other than that, you had no real reason to question his role in your life. Police confirmed the call logs between your phone numbers, his clothes were strewn about your apartment, there was pictures of the two of you together on his phone—though those were few since you were always camera shy. You just didn’t appreciate him making you out to be someone you knew well-enough you weren.t
“I just don’t want you to be as paranoid as before, it…ate away at you.”
You inhaled sharply, “I’m always going to be paranoid. For as long as he’s out there not caught, I’m going to be paranoid. There’s no escaping him. I’m sure he’s watching us right now.”
Rafe frowned at that, instinctively approaching the windows in your bedroom to peer outside. You were only on the second floor making it easy for anyone to peer in from below, as long as they were standing across the street.
But Rafe had an idea then, one that although made you feel anxious, you couldn’t say ‘no’ to.
“So, we’ll leave.” He sat beside you on the bench below your window, his arm thrown over your shoulders, “Come home with me. To my home in North Carolina.”
Whoa. North Carolina? That was way off the beaten path. You had lived in the city your whole life. But in all honesty, what was keeping you there? You had no family to speak of, no friends, even your coworkers wouldn’t notice your absence. Besides, if you did stay, it would only be a matter of time before your stalker attacked you again, & there was no saying you’d be as lucky as you were the first time he took you.
So, the plan was set. Rafe & you would be leaving the city & going back to his hometown. It took a month to get everything squared away. You were forced to end your lease early but they let you off easily given your circumstances. Then you put a majority of your possessions in storage, apparently not needing them where you were going. You quit your job & they were polite enough to throw a going away party, but you had been the first to leave. And then, before you knew it, you were in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s truck heading out of the city & towards the coastline.
Rafe had been right. The further you got from the city the better you felt. The long drive had been fitful in your sleep, still having minor images & flashbacks to what had happened to you, but nothing you hadn’t already told the police.
“I don’t remember a face. Or anything, really.” Whatever your attacker had done to you had wiped your memory. Doctors had confirmed that you suffered some head trauma, but not the kind that usually affected the memory part of your brain. They suggested it was the trauma of it all that kept you from remembering, but ultimately concluded it was a mix of the two.
But they had warned you that you may get images of the events that happened & if you ever saw something new, to inform the detectives handling your case immediately. The likelihood of your attacker being caught grew slimmer with every day that passed & you were the key to the case. As much as you dreaded any memories returning, you too wanted to see the man who hurt you put behind bars.
“Hey.” Rafe’s voice made you jump, his hand reaching for yours in your lap, “You alright?”
“Y-yeah.” You cleared your throat as you gazed outside of your window the urban cityscape long forgotten & traded by towering trees & plains.
“We’ll be there within the hour.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand. You nodded, silently grateful for the change in environment. It was just what you hoped you needed.
“It is so nice to finally meet you!” The blonde woman greeted as she pulled you into a hug, “Rafe never told us he was bringing someone special!”
You felt yourself falter at that but recovered quickly as she pulled you away to look you over, her eyes dancing across your features before glancing at your mundane, practical clothing.
“Because I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I ever mentioned her.” Rafe replied knowingly as he handed his bags & your one bag to a staff member of the house.
Pulling into the driveway of Rafe’s childhood home had taken you by surprise. You imagined you knew your boyfriend came from money before you accident but Rafe had failed to mentioned it in the month you prepared to leave.
The house was extravagant, timelessly beautiful & akin to its southern architectural charm. It had a million dollar view of the ocean & was filled with the light, warmth, & heart you imagined most family homes to be like. It was everything you never had, & Rafe’s step-mother, Rose, treated you immediately like one of her own.
“It must’ve been a long drive, you gotta be exhausted.” She noted as she kept her eyes between the two of you.
“Very.” Rafe confirmed as he placed his arm around your waist. “Is our room made up?”
“Of course, we’re always ready for guests.”
You smiled a thanks at her as Rafe led you to the grand staircase beyond the foyer.
“Get lots of rest!” Rose exclaimed from behind, “We’re having a welcome back brunch in the morning.”
Rafe grumbled at that, rolling his eyes. He said nothing until he led you into a bedroom overlooking the ocean.
“Wow.” You breathed out, admiring the setting sun in the horizon, “Was this your room?”
Rafe glanced around the room, “Once. Rose couldn’t wait to turn it into a guest room when I moved out.”
“Mmm.” You stood by the windows, staring out, already feeling rejuvenated, “When was that?”
Rafe dropped onto the bed, his arms outstretched as he kept his eyes closed, “When was what?”
“When you moved out.” You crossed over to the bed, sitting on it with one knee propped, watching your boyfriend relax into the mattress.
“Couple years ago.” He opened one eye, squinting up at you as the setting sun shined into the room, “Why do you ask?”
You shrugged, resting your chin on your knee, “Just trying to get to know you. All over again.”
Rafe smirked at that, rolling onto his stomach until his head was forcing your leg down so he could rest it in your lap. He peered up at you, “Let’s save that for later. I’m tired.”
You pressed your lips together but nodded.
“I’m really happy you’re here.” He whispered as his eyes fluttered close, “It’s about time you came home with me.”
The brunch unnerved you to no end. Rose had came to your bedroom that morning with a dress she had went & bought earlier that morning. Rafe was already gone by the time you woke so you stayed in the bedroom, too awkward feeling to roam about his house where his family lived without him.
“Oh, that really wasn’t necessary.” You told her but felt elated at the gift. Having grown up in an orphanage, you were not custom to gifts, at least not personal gifts bought with you specifically in mind.
“Nonsense.” Rose batted away your reluctance, “I’m not as close to Sarah & Wheezie as I’d like to be, so this gives the chance to really have a daughter.”
Rose smiled sweetly at you, gesturing for you to go to the en suite bathroom & try the dress on, “Well?”
“Right.” You didn’t know how to say ‘no’, not used to receiving gifts, “Thank you, Rose.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
She was much too young to be your mother but you still felt grateful towards her. From what little you knew about Rafe’s family, his mother had bailed when he & his siblings were young & his father dedicated most of his time to his business. Rose entered the picture only a few years ago & had desperately tried to make the family a family. You could tell that Rafe didn’t appreciate that aspect about her, often passive aggressively making comments about her, but you had never had a family. So, you welcomed it with open arms.
You slipped into the dress, admiring it in the mirror. It was definitely nothing you would ever wear, let alone own, but it felt nice looking in the mirror & seeing someone who didn’t just dress is drabby, dark colors.
You re-entered the bedroom & Rose, who had been sitting on a bench near the foot of the bed, rose with admiration in her eyes, “Oh my, don’t you look stunning!”
“I don’t know about that.” You shifted awkwardly under her gaze. But she approached you nonetheless & began to inspect you closer.
“Now, all’s we need is a little bit of makeup & some hair styling & you’ll take everyone’s breath away.”
And so for the next thirty or forty minutes, Rose applied all sorts of make-up to your face & tussled with your hair until it was to her satisfaction. Once she was done, she peered proudly at you, “A totally new woman.”
With that, she gently spun you around so you could face the mirror.
Who you saw wasn’t you. Who looked back at you as you stared unbelievingly into the mirror was a brighter woman, a woman filled with content & light. She was everything you were not, but you enjoyed her sight.
“What do you think?” Rose met your eyes in the mirror as she appraised her handiwork.
“I think you’re a miracle worker.” You joked.
She chuckled lightly at that, “I’ve always wanted a daughter of my own.”
That was a random confession but you turned to her, “I always wanted a mother.”
Rose’s face softened, nodding in understanding, “I hope you know that you have a family here. Rafe has kept you a secret all this time but I overheard him speaking with Ward this morning about how you were an orphan.”
You lowered your eyes at that.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Rose told you, “Though I was dealt a better hand in life than you were, I never felt like I belonged to a family until I met Ward. His kids give me a hard time & will likely never see me as their mother, but we’re a family. And now you’re a part of it, too.”
You finally looked up at her, your eyes watering.
“Don’t cry.” She teased, wiping at the sensitive skin under your eyes, “That eyeliner isn’t cheap.”
The two of you shared a laugh before she inhaled with finality, “I left a pair of heels for you in the bedroom. Brunch starts any moment. Finish getting ready & we’ll see you down there, alright?”
You nodded, steeling yourself against the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“Rose.” You called after her as she made to exit the bathroom, “Thank you.”
She simply smiled in return.
Meeting the rest of Rafe’s family was not as endearing as your one-on-one with Rose. Ward Cameron, the matriarch, was kind enough but carried that urban coolness you were used to from city folk. Sarah was friendly but she cared little to get to know you. As for Wheezie, it was clear she didn’t want to be there in general. But everyone spoke amongst themselves & you were happy enough to just listen.
Brunch took place on the rear patio of their house. Kitchen staff brought plates & cleared them, refilling glasses as they went. You weren’t too hungry but didn’t want to come off as ungrateful so you forced yourself to eat as the meal carried on. But the pleasant brunch began to take a turn for the worse when one of the staff members accidentally spilled Rafe’s mimosa onto his shirt.
“Goddamnit!” He yelled, causing all the girls at the table, staff included, to jump in surprise.
But it did more than just make you jump, it transferred you to a dark memory.
“Goddamnit!” A voice wailed & you felt your heart racing. You scrambled to your feet & ran blindly through the trees.
It was him, the man who had been following you. He snagged you off the street, the sweet smell of chloroform filling your nostrils as you struggled against him. You hadn’t seen his face, but when he deposited you into the backseat of his rig, his face finally appeared. It was blurred though as you slipped into unconsciousness.
A sharp gasp escaped you as you leapt from your seat at the table. You were panting as if you had just been running & tears caked your cheeks.
“_____, what’s wrong?” Rose frowned in concern.
Rafe hissed but his focus quickly shifted to you, his eyes staring worriedly up at you.
“_____?” He said, his voice sounding far away.
“_____!” His voice hollered behind you as you tripped before rolling down a steep decline.
When Rafe touched you though, you jumped yet again, this time away from him.
You stared down at him wide-eyed. Was it…?
“I’m sorry.” You shakily voiced, “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden..”
Without another word, you turned away from the questionable look on the Cameron’s faces & raced inside, heading straight for the stairs. Once you got up there, you threw yourself into the room you shared with Rafe & collapsed against the door.
Your back ached when you came to a stop at the bottom of the steep decline, having been slammed against the trunk of a tree. Panicked breaths escaped you as you moved to army crawl along the forest floor but froze when you heard him above you.
“_____!” The voice, his voice, yelled in search of you, “Don’t hide from me! I will find you!”
But you lied still, deathly still to evade his searching eyes. It was too dark in the forest, not even a sliver of the moon in the sky to aid your attacker in finding you.
A branch snapped followed by the flapping of birds wings sounded nearby. You listened as your attacker cursed quietly to himself & took off in that direction, the opposite direction of you.
Now, you had to move now!
But as you struggled to your feet, you whimpered & fell back down. Your feet were bare, sore & torn apart from running. But you couldn’t lie there, he would find you. With the remaining strength you had left, you crawled away from his last known position. But exhaustion was getting the better of you. Tears blurred your vision as you sought desperately for a way out.
It wasn’t until you felt the soft, lumpy texture of the forest earth shift to a rough, flat surface that you finally lifted your head. You were on the side of a road. And in the distance, a pair of headlights. You felt yourself collapse against the pavement, your hand outstretched.
An engine grew closer until it stopped near you. Doors were thrown open & panicked voices sounded.
“Call 911!”
You choked back sobs as you covered your mouth with your hands, the memory of you being found filling the gaps.
A knock sounded on the door against your back, followed by your boyfriends voice.
“_____?”
“_____!”
It was him. The man who attacked you… it was Rafe.
Rafe eyed you from across the foyer, his expression unreadable as a few police officer’s & detectives stood between the two of you.
Before Rafe had the chance to console or question your sudden burst during brunch, you had locked yourself in the en suite bathroom & called the number that was given to you by the detective handling your case.
You didn’t leave the bathroom until they arrived, despite Rafe’s plea’s for you to come out. The detective had contacted the local authorities in the area you were currently in to dispatch to your location until he could arrive. When he finally had, it was late afternoon. Only then did you emerge from your tiled cave.
Rafe wanted to approach you immediately, concern & mild anger gracing his features, but police officer kept the two of you separate as the detective led you from the second floor to the main.
“You can use my office.” Ward had offered, his eyes hard as he watched you disappear within.
Once you & the detective were safe & alone, you revealed to him everything. Your memories, Rafe’s voice in them, how you had no relatives or friends to even confirm his identity of being your boyfriend despite what the police already secured for you.
He listened intently & without dismissal as you fearfully panted, “Please, get me out of here!”
He nodded then but it was followed by a frown, “I’m afraid, Miss. _____, that the man who attacked you was not your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron.”
“What?” You returned exasperated, “But I just told you—”
“I know, Miss. _____, I’m not dismissing what you’re saying. I’m just informing you that we found the man who took you.”
What? You faltered at that, frowning deeply before shaking your head, “No, no, then you got the wrong man!”
You hissed but attempted to keep your voice low, “Rafe took me! I remember!”
“But you said you didn’t see his face in the memory. Just his voice?”
“Well, yes, but the rest will return. As far as his voice is concerned—”
“When you memory does return, you’ll find that the face of the man who took you is this one.”
The detective pulled out a piece of paper on it before handing it to you. You flashed your eyes to his before accepting it. On the paper he gave you was an arrest report, the mugshot of a man in his mid-30’s in the top right corner.
“His name is Jay Shelton, this is the man who took you.”
But you shook your head, staring at the unfeeling eyes of the man in picture. There was no inkling, no gut wrenching at the sight of his face, no voices in your head screaming at you ‘that’s him, that’s him’! There was no bodily response, conscious or otherwise.
“How do you know?” You questioned, your voice firm.
“Because.” The detective eyed you, “He confessed a few hours ago.”
“He--?” It didn’t make sense.
“He confessed to everything, Miss. _____. Stalking you, keeping track of your routine, following you home, we even found a few of your possessions in his apartment. He revealed details of your kidnapping that we never told you about. This is the man.”
“No, but—” But your memories.
“I’ve been in this field a long time, Miss, & I hope it brings you some sort of comfort when I tell you that thinking the person who hurt you is someone close to you isn’t unheard of. There was a case a few years ago in Florida where a woman suffered amnesia, much like your case, & was convinced that her memories were filled with her father having attacked her.”
“But it wasn’t her father?” You frowned.
“No. To my understanding, the mind—when in the process of healing itself—will cling to the faces we know in an attempt to fill in gaps of the memory.”
“But I didn’t see his face in my new memories. I heard his voice & it was…”
“The same theory applies. Audio, visual, it’s all the same. What your brain is trying to do is give you answers. And in this case, the answer it clung to was your boyfriend’s.”
You hung your head, emotions of all sorts racking your mind.
“I can’t imagine what it is you’re going through, but I hope you know that the man out there, who you are convinced hurt you, was at the police station every day until you were found. Only leaving when we forced him to, but he would always come back.”
Unshed tears blurred your vision.
“So, Jay Shelton… what happens now?”
“Now that we have a confession it’ll go through the judicial system.”
“And I’ll have to be present for that.” You confirmed without question.
“Most likely. It’ll take your testimony to get him longer time. A confession can always be recanted.”
You nodded, “So, I panicked for nothing?”
“Not for nothing. When I left the city to come here I was prepared to arrest your boyfriend, but I got the call about Shelton halfway here. You did what you thought was right & no one will fault you for that.”
You deadpanned at that, “Except for my boyfriend & his family.”
The detective sighed but reassured you, “They’ll understand. Especially once we explain everything to them.”
“We?” You flickered your eyes to his.
“From the sounds of it, you’ve been on your own most your life. And with this scary event having happened to you, I think you could use some support in facing your boyfriend. So, we’ll do it together.”
“Together.” You grinned unsurely at that, but nodded your thanks.
“Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
It was late by the time you & Rafe returned to your room for the night.
The night had been long & hard.
The detective stayed true to his word & assisted you in telling Rafe & his family what happened. Most understood, your boyfriend included, but the same couldn’t be said for Ward.
“Nothing like cops coming to my house in the middle of the day for our neighbors to see my son being accused of kidnapping.”
His reaction had hurt you but Rafe hugged you against him, “Dad. She was scared.”
Ward ignored his son but the detective had your back. You apologized profusely to Rafe’s family & Rose, much to your relief, hugged you. Ward was still upset & departed to his office for the rest of the night, but Rafe reassured you that he would get over it in time.
But as you two got ready for bed, you felt most sorry to Rafe. After all, he had done everything in his power to make you feel safe & even brought you home to his family, & then you had accused him of being the man who attacked you, of lying & manipulating you the entire last month. Fortunately, Rafe didn’t blame you, but Jay Shelton.
“At least he’s behind bars, now.” You added. And Rafe sighed with relief.
“At least.”
You went to bed shortly after, falling into a mostly undisturbed sleep. But at some point in the night, you felt yourself wake. Your lids were heavy, your muscles more so. It felt like a dream as you attempted to lift your head but you were much too delirious to do so. Rafe had given you some of Rose’s sleeping pills & you imagined this was one of the effects of them. But as you felt yourself slipping back into unconsciousness, you heard a pair of voices.
They were far, at least further from your room. As you tried to narrow in on them in your sluggish mind, you felt as if they were right outside the bedroom door. And you recognized both voices, at least you thought you did.
“That is the last time I cover your ass.” A harsh voice sounded. You frowned in your lethargic state, thinking it sounded like Ward’s.
“It won’t happen again.” That one sounded like your boyfriend’s, but their voices began to grow further away as darkness lined your vision yet again.
“It better not. Because then next time, you’ll be forced to finish the job you started back in the woods.”
Your heart pulsed & panic gripped you but the feelings quickly evaded your consciousness. Sleep awaited you, the drugs working you hard. And as you slipped back into a deep sleep, you felt relieved that you would wake to Rafe, to Rose, to a family you never had.
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