#How To Save A Marriage When One Per | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soobnara · 6 months ago

Text

like clockwork / c.sb

soobin x reader

summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.

word count: 10.1k

tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used

author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3

For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days.

To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.

That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?

It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things.

The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.

He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.

Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.

He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates.

Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?

He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.

Surely you won’t kill him, right?

Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.

You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”

“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.

“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you.

“Okay, now spill.”

“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?”

His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”

Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.

You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”

Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”

You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl from last year, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”

You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.

“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”

Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”

Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Sure, noona, sure.”

“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”

Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality).

Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.

Choi Soobin.

The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance.

But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…

You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.

Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him.

The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.

And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.

[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]

To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.

He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good.

But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.

He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.

Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium.

A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.

y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️

He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.

soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]

It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.

He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all.

“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.

He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.

“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.

“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.

You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.

Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”

“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.

“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.

Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”

His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.

When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.

Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.

He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.

You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.

You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.

You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much.

Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.

Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)

Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt.

The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.

His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”

You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.

“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little.

“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.

You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.

Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.

You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you?

Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.

Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.

soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date

y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways

y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight

y/n noona: i need to know asap

soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️

y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later

y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p

soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me

y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you

soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry

y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once

y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]

y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely

soob: wait that’s not fair

soob: noona come back

soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS

[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]

soob: you are so mean to me

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.

He’s wearing his glasses.

You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.

You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.

You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–

“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki.

The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.

“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.

“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks.

The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever.

“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”

“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”

Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.

Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?

Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.

You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.

When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him.

Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.

You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.

He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.

Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.

Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.

“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.

“What made you match with me?”

“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.

“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”

“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further.

“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”

Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”

“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”

To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”

“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”

Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”

“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.

“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”

You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)

“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does.

You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.

But you’ll be okay with him, right?

He’s your best friend, after all.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

…

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.

Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much. After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.

The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.

You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.

He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.

He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.

“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”

The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.

“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.

You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”

When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you.

“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening.

Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.

You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.

“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”

You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”

Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you.

“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.

“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.

Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away.

“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.

“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.

“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.

“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…”

“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.

Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.

“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.

“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.

Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.

“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.

“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.

The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.

There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.

Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”

“One…” “Two…”

“Three!”

When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.

You two don’t have an expiration date.

You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again.

“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”

Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.

“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”

Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.

You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend.

But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return.

And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too.

Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.

But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?

Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.

“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.

“I love you too, Soob.”

Soobin has always been counting down to something.

To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.

The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.

He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.

Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other.

Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.

#soobin x y/n #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin fanfic #soobin fluff #soobin fic #txt fic #choi soobin #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #txt imagines #soobin imagines #mdnet

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rafeplay · 15 days ago

Text

ADA ADORE !

ft. di!leon s. kennedy x gn!reader x ada wong

tags. toxic relationship, divorce sorry idk how to tag this, smut mentions, age gap mention, character study..? oral happens a little, dub-con

note. HAIIII IO HAPPY EARLY BDAY! @girlfridged this is a year and many months overdue it’s been in my drafts for so long I wanted to write it so bad for ages but I couldnt n I thought I’d finally do it before I get busy w exams ILYSMMMMM I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U NEED ilysm and I just want u to have fun and be happy and I hope ada brings that to u 💔🤍 unedited + clunky n disjointed per usual .. io I accidentally made this more ab aeon I’m so sorry I will make it up to u LMFAKDKFK feedback n rbs always appreciated

It’s not working out.

It hasn’t been working out since they tied the knot.

There’s no honeymoon phase when you marry a woman like Ada Wong. In fact, there is no phase at all. There were no rings and no ceremony and when they went to bed that night Leon realised they both ran cold—Two cold bodies in a bed is just a shared grave.

They both work a lot so they’re married on vacation days, but Leon’s not around on Christmas, and Ada’s busy on New Years so they settle for birthdays. Easter is out of the question - Ada doesn’t have time to believe in trivial things like god and Leon still ducks like the devil anytime he sees a cross.

They remember they’ve chosen each other between global collapse and political demise and the occasional personal trauma—AKA Leon’s birthday. Not hers. Never hers.

It’s the one day in the whole entire year they pretend the world doesn’t need saving.

(In Ada’s case, ruining.)

She gives him a pretty little present, fucks him like it’s a threat, and sometimes, only sometimes, Leon gets to fall asleep in the same timezone as her.

Leon thought about getting a dog. Something warm, loyal, friendly, something to come home to. When he told her she teased him. And he let her—Of course he did, he would let her push him flat on his back in an active minefield.

“You want me to be a dog, Leon?” She got on her knees and crawled towards him and it was really sexy, but he took his meds before they got in bed and any chance of a boner had been deemed impossible.

“I just want you to come home,” he had let out by mistake, and then Ada dried up because she doesn’t really feel anything that isn’t lust or some cruel type of need to have him squashed under her thumb and him getting needy outside of the bedroom is her number one turn-off.

As of how they’re doing right now?

Ada’s current location is unknown. He sent a message three days ago. He wasn’t even sure if it was the correct number.

Leon: Alive?

She left him on read. Whatever. Pretty generous for Ada. Means she’s not causing any trouble. Maybe she’s just taking time away from him. He understands. Leon often needs space from himself. And somehow from her considering how little she is home. One day with Ada stretches on for an eternity, it wrings him out, hangs him up to dry. It’s like the whole entire world is put on pause because she said so. He can’t get away from himself and not from Ada either—he sees her in the mirror everyday because they have the same goddamn haircut.

He goes to work. Sits on his chair purposely hard. Stares at the ceiling like he’s waiting for god to send a memo.

To: [email protected]

Subject: Leave her. Fix your marriage. Get a dog.

Attachment: Miracle.

Leon wishes he knew how to talk to her. Like, actually like, talk—Like not in his head, but with his mouth and from his heart. Open up about all those big, big feelings he keeps having. But he’s not stupid, he knows Ada would probably smile at him, and in that smile he would see the exact moment she would decide not to want him. Because she doesn’t do feelings or emotions or therapy or any of the sissy bullshit Leon has really gotten into in these past few years.

“Good morning, Leon.” Hunnigan rarely says it first, only when he’s brooding.

Leon sighs deeply. He pretends he doesn’t see Helena roll her eyes in his peripheral. “Yeah…” He nods slowly—forlornly. “Good morning.”

“What’s wrong with you today?” She asks flatly. “Will you let me know by lunch so I can file the appropriate forms?”

Helena snorts. Leon sighs again. Deeper. Sadder. Like, please fawn over me, at least offer to make me a coffee I won’t drink and let me rest my head on your bosom while you do all this complicated big boy paperwork for me.

“I’m having girl trouble, put that on my file if you want.” Leon sniffs, crossing his arms and wondering if his marriage would benefit from whatever him and Hunnigan have going on; they have been work-wife and work-husband for eleven years now. It could be the back and forth. Sarcasm. But no. His therapist says sarcasm is hiding, which to be completely honest is true, he is hiding. Always has been.

They don’t know about Ada—Not really. They know of her. That she goes up like smoke. That he keeps her compact in his drawer. That she is probably still wanted for treason by the country he lives and dies for. That she killed Helena’s sister and all. First by proxy and then by hand. They certainly don’t know her and Leon are quote-unquote married.

“Maybe she’s seeing someone else,” Helena offers unhelpfully.

“Why the hell would you say that?” He shakes his head, pointing a finger at her. “You don’t even know who she is.”

“I’m statistically speaking - based on all of your dates,” she adds, also unhelpfully.

“Mm,” Hunnigan hums in agreement, “how old is this one?”

“Older than me,” Leon says proudly, like it’s some sort of accomplishment—but it is, for a moment he really did forget about himself, all his morals, he fucked a twenty-one year old and everything. A mid-life crisis, but he’s all better now.

“How old?” Helena sits up, interested. “Your age kind of old?“

“I’m not even forty, Helena.” Leon doesn’t look up from the floor, pouting at the scuff marks on his shoes.

“Fifty?”

“God, I wish, but no.”

“Sixty?” Hunnigan chimes in without looking away from her monitor.

“No.”

“Is she as old as that lunch lady you flirt with?” Helena scoots her chair closer.

“Hey! First of all, her name is Hazel, and she is not just the lunch lady, she’s the head and she rotates the menu by season, runs the whole thing…” He trails off.

Silence.

“…But no, not that old, Jesus.” Ada is a cougar not a fucking sabretooth. “She’s got a couple years on me, like forty-something I guess.” He doesn’t even know her fucking birthday. Some husband he is.

“Is it serious?”

Leon looks at Helena like she’s stupid. Like anything could ever be fully serious with Ada. Everything is a sick joke to her, but it’s not. It’s not a joke—this is his fucking life. His stupid, sad life. ”Kind of, yeah, I guess—For me it is.”

“But not for her, huh?” Helena clicks her tongue, giving him a sympathetic look.

An hour or so later when they’re all in a meeting, Leon is too busy wondering how they fit such a big table through such a small door, why he is destined for so much fucking pain, whether or not Helena and Hunnigan are playing footsie right under his nose. Maybe if Ada was a man-eater with teeth the size of his head he wouldn’t like her so much. Maybe if his dick was bigger she wouldn’t be so inclined to leave. Maybe if it was nicer—No…No. it couldn't be that. His dick is nice. Nicer than most. Neatly trimmed pubes, nice shape, nice length, tasteful curvature, he’s got some lovely gradient going on. Jesus Christ, this table is huge. Did they build the room around it? Is that a thing people can do? It couldn’t come in parts it’s literally fucking solid oak. Does it fold? Everything folds eventually. Helena shifts beside him—Is she making eyes at Hunnigan? Is she seriously…Can Hunnigan even see all the way over on the opposite side of this huge-ass table?

“Agent Kennedy?”

Leon’s eyes shoot up, going from bigwig to bigwig until he finds the speaker. A senator of some kind with a tarmac grey suit. “Yes… Yes, sir?”

“Some input on the current strategy?” It’s not unkind, more wanting of guidance from someone who’s been in the game as long as Leon has.

“My dick is fine,” Leon says on autopilot.

Everyone is looking at him. That pretty intern he got a coffee for stifles a laugh into her hand, Hunnigan is staring him down, Helena is trying not to smile.

“Sorry, thought I was on mute.”

“You’re…You’re not on call, Agent Kennedy.”

“Right.” Leon nods. “Obviously.

He looks back down at the table.

It’s still too big for the room.

Leon comes home late. Which is usual. So he guesses he’s coming home on time. He isn’t over how big the table is, he isn't over talking about his dick in front of presidential advisors, and he isn’t over Ada like he would really like to be.

He aims to throw his jacket on the wooden coat she bought. Gothic. Curling arms, and a mahogany base. He misses and his jacket slumps to the ground like a wounded animal.

She’s cheating on me. Helena is right. She’s with someone else. She left me on read so that means she’s not even doing fieldwork, she’s just ignoring me on purpose.

Leon blinks at his reflection in the oval mirror Ada placed in the entrance hall.

But she can’t be. Look at him. Look at him. Look at those eyes. Look at that nose. Don’t look at the chin. She’s not cheating. She’s just Ada. Sexy, career-driven, free, independent—Oh god. But what if she is? What if she is cheating on him? With some hunk like Chris. Not because Leon thinks Chris is hot, but maybe Ada thinks he is.

And then he sees them.

Her heels kicked off in the corner. The ones she wears on date nights. The one she wears to see other men probably. Leon crouches down to study them, running a finger over the patent leather, flipping them upside down to see the weathered red bottoms. He has kissed these a thousand times.

“Are you talking to my shoes, Leon?”

Leon’s heart thumps out of his chest.

“You're home,” he breathes out, waiting for someone to step out from behind her, freshly showered, using his towel. Taller, stronger, bigger—

“I wanted to see you.” She’s not wearing any makeup and she looks her age and it’s so fucking sexy.

“Are you cheating on me?” Leon blurts out.

Ada smiles at him like What if I am? What will you do about it? You’d stay with me anyway, wouldn’t you? You pathetic excuse of a man. “What makes you think that?”

“You left me on read.”

“You asked me if I was alive, Leon.”

“Yeah—Yeah, and you never said yes.”

“I read it.”

“Still—“

Ada cuts in, “Why don’t you come to bed, babe, I was so lonely waiting up for you.” She leaves no room for argument so he follows her into the bedroom, he lets her take off his clothes and wash his face and kiss him on the head as she tucks him in.

“Why did you call me babe?” Leon mumbles as he tucks his face into her neck, breathing her in.

“What’s wrong with babe?” Ada asks him, falsely tender, antiseptic affection.

“I dunno…It’s, like, it reminds me of the pig.”

She laughs. He wants to hear her do that again. Make a fool out of himself to make her smile or snort. “Fine, you’re my baby.”

He settles down after that as Ada traces shapes into his skin with the points of her manicured nails. It would be nice if she wasn’t pressing so hard. “Too hard,” Leon complains, twisting in discomfort.

“Lingchi, pressure massage,” Ada explains, “ancient technique.”

He rolls over while she lingchis his back to Google it.

Lingchi

Lingchi, usually translated "slow slicing" or "death by a thousand cuts", was a form of torture and execution used in China from roughly 900 until it was banned in 1905. It was also used in Vietnam and Korea.

Source: Wikipedia

Leon is still rubbing sleep out of his eyes when Ada says it. Buttering her toast casually. Red dress. Red lips. Red heels. “By the way, I’m sleeping with someone.”

Just like that. There’s no ‘we need to talk’ or ‘I’m leaving you’. Nope. Not at all.

“I’m sorry?” He blinks.

She doesn’t look up from her toast. Dipping the knife into a pot of strawberry jam he didn’t even know they had. “It’s just sex, Leon.”

“I thought you…I love you, Ada.” He blinks again. Maybe thrice.

“I know you do, baby.” She smiles. “You're still my husband.”

“How could you—I don’t…I don’t understand, Ada.”

She places the toast on the counter in front of him. “I have to go now, I don’t have time to talk about it today, baby.” She kisses his cheek. Grabs her bag. “I’m very busy, why don’t you tell your journal all about it?”

“I don’t have a—“

“Drive safe, baby!” Her heels click-clack as she leaves.

Leon sits in traffic that morning thinking about it.

By the way, I’m sleeping with someone.

It’s just sex, Leon.

You’re still my husband.

It’s not raining, but the wipers are going off, and he flips off a man in the car next to him without thinking.

How could she? How could she just say that? Who fucking does that? Ada would. Ada can. Ada does.

He thinks about crashing his car into the lobby of the DSO.

He zones out during a meeting. For the second time. Hunnigan gives him a look that says If you’re thinking about killing yourself, please do it after this meeting.

He eats lunch alone in the break room. He opens his phone six times in five minutes and there’s nothing.

What does this guy even look like? What does he do—What could he do to get her attention? Ada’s attention. To get her to want him, fuck him, leave Leon on read for three days to be with him. What is it about him? Taller? Blonder? Younger? Sweeter? Stupider? No…There’s no one stupider than Leon. No one is more pathetic than Leon. It can’t be.

He drives home, clammy, hands slipping off the wheel thinking about this man. Thinking about finding out who the fuck he is, finding his address, sizing him up and ultimately leaving when he realises Ada has found herself someone that isn’t shorter than her when she puts on heels. And Ada is always wearing heels.

He steps inside, holding his breathing, for once he is hoping she isn’t home so he has time to pace, drink, contemplate and repeat.

But her shoes are kicked off in the same spot, and there’s an open bottle of wine on the countertop. The balcony door is open, Ada is leaning against the railing watching the city beneath them, the ballet of life, cars passing by, people rushing home from work, young girls going out for the night.

She doesn’t even look at him when she speaks, fixing the fallen shoulder of her silk robe. “I want you to meet someone.” Then she turns, bare-faced, beautiful, gazing at him over the rim of her wine glass.

“What..?”

“Oh, Leon, don’t pout.” Ada sighs, placing her glass down beside the unused ashtray.

“I’m not—“

“Come here, baby, come give me a kiss.” She points at her heart-shaped mouth and he stumbles closer like a zombie, pawing at her robe as she cups his cheeks to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good boy.” Ada smiles at him. That same smile she always has. “Tomorrow at seven, okay? Clear your schedule.”

And Leon does. He always does. He leaves work at four to get cucked at seven.

Ada gives an address to the driver who keeps making eye contact with Leon in the rear view mirror. She keeps her hand on Leon’s thigh the entire time. She tells him how handsome he looks in that suit - his only suit - he rushed to dry clean this very morning. He looks the part of her husband. A very well-kept man on a very short leash. They don’t need rings because Leon is already wrapped around her finger.

They pull up in front of this great, sprawling building, stone steps, bustling crowds, a sign that says something about an exhibition—Ada is walking too fast for him to read it properly, and she’s in fucking heels too. He catches up with her in the cool hush of the gallery lobby, thank god there’s air conditioning, he’s about to sweat right through this jacket.

She looks effortless like always, he’s seen her naked and he still finds it hard to believe she even exists. Women are just something else. Ada has sexy legs, and painted toes, and she even has sexy fucking ankles—

“Come on, baby.” She leads him like a duckling, and it raises the question—

“What are we doing here?” Leon asks, clearing his throat, trying not to look at her ass in that high-necked, jewel-toned dress. Jesus. What if her boyfriend is an art dealer? What if he’s fucking loaded? What if this is all a trick? A ploy. A fucking joke. She’s trying to rope him into something bad.

“I told you, I want you to meet someone, Leon,” she answers simply. “Oh, look at that piece.” She waves her hand in the direction of a blank canvas.

“Brilliant, really, I could never pull that off,” he mumbles, a deep pout settling on his face as he follows her past paint splattered canvases, statuettes, and a man who she humours for exactly fifty-nine seconds before she says:

“Leon, why don’t you tell this nice man how many times you came this morning?”

Leon doesn’t even fucking trip on a single word. “Four,” he says, loud and proud, but he’s more just loud than proud. This is really quite fucking humiliating and he’s thinking of throwing himself down that gorgeous spiral staircase as some act of artistic vengeance, become part of the exhibition, y’know?

“There you are!” Ada smiles, and it’s the same sort of smile she gives Leon, but different. Like. Sweeter. Luring. Pure fucking Evil. Like I want to fatten you up and eat you.

He scans the room for the suspect. Which fucking bastard is fucking his fucking wife? There’s a curator on one side, but he’s much too old for Ada. The few in the turtlenecks—Never. Velvet suit? Moustache? Oh, it’s got to be that one. Baby blues, wheatish hair, hands in his pockets like he doesn’t quite fit in. That’s him. Pft. Leon could take him easy—Oh, they’re not even walking in his direction—

“Ada!”

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh no. No. This is so much worse. He can’t beat up a little kid. You’re like shorter than both of them, she leans down to kiss both your cheeks, and you're smiling at her like she has the key to your heart—She probably does, she has the key to his cock cage.

(Not that he actually has one. Leon hasn’t gone that far yet, he likes to believe he has standards.)

“Leon,” she beckons him closer with a finger, introduces the two of you.

You put out your hand for him to shake, clearly a little nervous as you tell him, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he mutters, loosely taking your hand, making sure to wipe it on his trousers when you let go of him. He can’t beat you up, but he sure as hell can be petty.

“Leon.” Ada laughs like a mother does when she’s trying to play down her child’s petulance. “Be nice, baby.”

She’s insane. She has got to be crazy if she thinks Leon is going to put up with this. She’s talking to you all nice like We have dinner soon, but I just had to come and see your art. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. I really am. You’re so much more accomplished than my loser husband. My snooty little angel, look at your beautifully useless art, my tactically skilled, special agent husband could never be as talented as you. Oh no, he could never. And she thinks he’s going to stay? Yeah right. Never.

Leon has standards. He does. He’s going to leave right now, he’s going to block her number, put her minimal shit in a bag, and toss it over the balcony. He’s going to hand her over to the President on a silver platter. He’s going to leave a bad review on your art. Is there a website for that? There’s gotta be. There’s a website for everything now. Ugh—Ugh. You’re not even anything special. Not the kind of beauty that offends women or intimidates men, but to Leon it does both.

“The reservation is soon, we should head over,” Ada says, looping her arm with yours and waiting for Leon to follow.

He does follow. Glaring at your back. A threesome has been on his bucket list for years, sure, but not like this. It was meant to be sexy. Not cheating.

Leon fumes silently all the way over to the restaurant, while the waiter leads the three of you to the cushioned booth at the back, when Ada slips into the booth beside you, when your foot knocks his under the table, when the waiter hands over the menus.

The two of you are talking, it sounds like noise to him, like he’s underwater. You keep looking at him with these great, big eyes. Like you're waiting for him to say something. Or maybe you’re testing him. Maybe you want him to leave. He wants you to leave.

Ada is too sneaky. She’s like a cat, they're nifty little things—Ada is twice as sly. She’s cunning. Like a fox. Yeah. That sounds right. A fox. A beautiful, red fairytale fox that talks its way out of dirty work. Leon is some stupid, hysterical damsel that needs a kiss to snap out of it. And you’re a wretched little toad and you’re going to get what’s coming for you, for being a part of this, for being her side piece, for making her smile like that.

“So,” Leon finally cuts into the conversation you’ve been having without him for a good twenty minutes, “when were going to tell me you had a partner, Ada.”

She scoffs at him lightly, a smile playing on her red lips. “I don’t do boyfriends or girlfriends, Leon, I’m forty.”

“What does that even—“

“It’s just sex, Leon, I told you that before, I wish you would listen.”

It’s always just sex with Ada. All he gets is sex. All you get is sex. Maybe the two of you aren't so different. Maybe you’re both little mice and Ada is going to eat you both up.

“Leon is so sentimental,” Ada sighs, shaking her head like he’s such a hassle.

You smile at him awkwardly. He just stares. Ada takes her fork, holding it up so the tines bar his face like she’s putting him in public timeout, in jail. “He’s just so emotional, I mean, really, you know how men get.”

You shift in your seat, unsticking your thighs from the leather booth. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You smile at him again, nervous, fraying, like he isn’t what you expected—It’s Ada. It’s all Ada she probably marketed this as some fucking chic ménage á trois.

Leon just sits there like he’s just been hit by a train and is trying to be casual about it. Of course she did. Of course she did and that’s why he goes on a second date with you and her. That’s why he drives the two of you home a week later. His wife and the person she’s fucking.

This week has been tense. Dinner was tense. This drive is tense. You clear your throat in the back seat. “Um…Honestly, you could drop me a couple blocks away from home, it’s actually right down there—“

“No, no, sweetheart,” Ada gasps, like a really fake gasp, “we couldn’t do that to you, it’s so dark out.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, he watches you through the rear view mirror, how your hands twitch in your lap, the way you lick your dry lips, “I just don’t want to be intruding on anything.”

“You’re not intruding, sweetheart.”

Yes you are.

“It’s just that…Mommy and daddy are fighting, honey.” Ada sighs a long-suffering sigh.

Impressively, Leon doesn’t swerve off the road, but the car does jerk and sputter. You look like you’re about to cry, or jump out of the moving vehicle, or like you’ve been told Santa isn’t real, or that he’s in jail for indecent exposure.

“Ada…” Leon mumbles, shaking his head at her, “don’t.”

“Why, Leon?” She huffs like this is it not some psychosexual hostage situation. “Children should know when their mommies and daddies aren't doing well, communication is very healthy.” It’s all a game to her. She’s so callous and insincere and awful and frighteningly beautiful.

“Stop it, Ada.” He white-knuckles the steering wheel, does a red light, thinks about taking both of you down with him.

“Oh my god,” you mumble from the back, sinking into your seat like you want to disappear. Poor kid. You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Just take us home now, Leon,” Ada says, sniffing dramatically as she gazes out of the window.

So he drives. Pedal to the metal. Reverse parks in record time. Kills the engine. Ada’s already out the door, leaving behind a cloud of perfume, heels clicking on the concrete, you’re following like a ghost, footsteps barely audible.

“Shoes off,” Ada hums as she floats into the apartment she has never once called home.

You won’t meet his eye. Not even Ada’s. Just standing there all small. Breakable. Looking at the ground—It’s not like there’s much to take in. Underfurnished. Empty glasses litter every flat surface. Leon’s leather jacket is draped over the sofa.

“You two are the same,” she laughs, it echoes down the hall as she leaves a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom, and look at you two. So easily led. Hansel and fucking Gretel over here. “So dramatic, so sentimental, so hysterical—I mean at least you’re quiet about it, sweetheart, Leon throws a tantrum,” she muses as she edges her panties off her ankles. “God, don’t just stand there, help each other out.”

Leon makes the first move. He feels bad. Doesn’t know if he wants this, if he wants you, but he does it ‘cause she said so. You’re nervous, heart like a hummingbird in your chest, he feels it when he rather unfeelingly unbuttons your shirt. He nudges you onto the bed gently, you have nice hips, nice legs, nothing about you is wrong—It’s just him that’s wrong. What he’s gotten himself into.

“You need help down there, Leon?” Ada tilts her head to the side as he spreads your thighs, leant on her elbow, busy mouthing at your neck, kissing your jaw, tweaking your nipple every few seconds like it’s a fidget toy.

“I know my way around, thanks” he mumbles, and if there’s one thing he can focus on it’s eating pussy. He likes the way it tastes, the way it smells, how soft it is on his tongue. Pussy would never hurt him.

You arch when he kisses your clit, you whine when he pushes a second finger in, when his lips close around your clit and he sucks. You don’t scroll through your phone waiting to be impressed like Ada would.

He wipes his mouth when you cum, sitting up, breathless. “You happy now?”

“Oh, Leon, why don’t you come here, handsome?” Ada pats the space between you and her. He doesn’t move. Not this time. She purses her lips. “Leon has such a dangerous job,” she starts.

You blink the fog from your mind, turning to face her, spine straightening like every hair on your body stands to attention when she speaks. Even if you don’t want it to you—She’s magnetic.

“He’s a hero, really, he does so much to keep everyone safe—He’s not allowed to talk about it, but he does so much for all of us.” Ada trails a hand down the front of his jeans, cupping his dick. “I’m just so glad this is all in one piece.”

“Are you really, Ada?” He asks, staring at her.

“Yes, Leon, I am.” She smiles, practiced.

“I think we should take a break, Ada,” he says, dick still rock fucking hard.

“I really…I really think I should go,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes—He respects it. You got to cum, and now you’re leaving. “I really appreciate the invite—“

“Well, Leon.” Ada dusts herself off, still smiling. “If that’s what you think is right.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Hm.” She nods, then she looks to you, patting your head, smiling, cooing so you can’t get out of her fucking trap. “I get to keep you, and daddy gets to keep the office and the printer.”

You scratch the back of your neck. “…I mean okay—I didn’t really, I mean…Okay.”

“Then I guess I’ll print the fucking papers,” Leon confirms, and it’s over like that. He sees his grief over to the door. Doesn’t kiss her goodnight. Just passes her onto you.

#leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil fluff #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #ada wong x reader

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1800bitchcraft · 4 months ago

Note

What if Ford and reader are having their first time together or about to when reader drops the bombshell that they're a virgin because they never felt a connection with anyone like that until him? I feel that might do something to him with his possessiveness and maybe even a slight ego boost despite the lick of shame and uncertainty at being the one to take their virginity, but it ends up turning him on way more than he expected? 😳

A/N: shut UP I LOVE THIS !!!!! Literally shrieked when I read it, my dog thought I was trying to play with her🤣 anyways, darling, I couldn't NOT write something for this it was too delicious! This ran away from me a lil bit and turned into a full blown fic but I hope you like it!

CW: fingering, first times, virginity kink, oral (F!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cumming inside, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, i think that's it??

!!! MDNI OR I WILL SCREAM !!!

Smut under the cut

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tick.

You glanced at the clock on your wall, nervously smoothing down your skirt. 6:52 PM. The clock seemed to glare back at you, or was that just your own reflection staring back at you from the glass? You bounced your knee, nerves kicking up a storm in your belly. Your eyes darted to the coffee table in front of you. The still full glass of wine you'd poured in the hopes it would calm your nerves.

It didn't.

You took a drink.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

You weren't nervous for any bad reason, per se. In fact, one could even say you were nervous for a very good reason, depending on your use of the word 'good.'" Tonight was your fifth date with your new beau, Ford Pines. He was something of an enigma to you, having heard the stories about him from when he'd first moved to town. But, hearing he was something of a recluse, you'd gone on thinking your curiosity would remain unsatiated. Then he'd wandered into your book shop late one afternoon and, well. The rest was history.

Really, he was perfect. Though, he would argue that fact with a frankly precious blush on his handsome face, he really was. He was everything you'd ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was kind, considerate, gentle. He listened to everything you had to say, every random bit of gossip or interest of yours, no matter how fleeting, he soaked in with rapt attention. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was so handsome.

Perfectly sculpted cheekbones and those warm brown eyes that never failed to make you melt. A strong jaw and fluffy grey curls streaked with silver that you loved to play with. He had a stockier build than what you were used to back home, but you couldn't say you didn't like it. Really, you probably liked it a little too much. It was... challenging, to say the least, to keep yourself from climbing the poor man like a tree. The only thing that really kept you from it were your own nerves, and the reason for your nerves tonight.

You had yet to tell him this, but, well, you were a virgin. It wasn't for any special reason like most people assumed. You weren't saving yourself for marriage and you weren't doing it for religious reasons. Though, you couldn't blame people for assuming that since you were a whole adult and could count on one hand the amount of sexual experiences you had in your life.

No, really, it was just the simple fact that you hadn't found anyone you liked that much. You'd tried to explain it to a previous boyfriend. That you didn't, couldn't, feel attracted to someone in that way until you'd developed feelings for them. But that had just resulted in a lot of confusion and hurt feelings, so you'd resigned yourself to the possibility that maybe you'd just be alone.

Of course, then Ford had to enter your life. It was cliche, you knew it, but he was just so patient and understanding. You loved how curious and genuinely in awe he still was of the world. And, eventually, over the course of your dates and the long, long hours spent together between them, you found yourself falling for the awkward, sweet nerd that had wandered into your shop.

So, you'd taken the liberty of preparing your date for the night. Ford always said he wanted to try your cooking, and you thought what better way to have this conversation than over a home cooked meal? And, who knew? Maybe you might finally take things to that level, instead of just making out on the couch and leaving frustrated and wanting more.

Just then, a knock on your door sounded.

"Coming!" You called out. You set your glass back down, now empty, and rushed to the door. When you opened it, there was your Stanford, standing on your porch as handsome as ever. He'd opted for a soft brown button up under an argyle patterned sweater vest in different complimenting shades of green. His slacks and shoes were brown to match and you blushed when you remembered the last time you'd seen him wear that sweater.

"You look..." Ford paused, seemingly at a loss for words as he drank in your form. It wasn't anything special, or so you would claim, but you looked like the brightest of jewels in Ford's eyes. "Incredible. As always." He finished with a soft smile, eyes coming back up to yours and you broke his gaze first, shy under the intensity of his attention but you loved it all the same.

"Oh stop," you waved him off, certain your cheeks were scarlet by now. Ford chuckled and you ushered him in. "You're just in time! I just finished making dinner," Ford smiled over his shoulder at you, turning to face you after hanging up his jacket in your coat closet.

"Oh? I'm excited to see what you've made," he reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you close. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling safe and secure all wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Mmm well, it's a surprise," you murmured, voice lowered as he leaned in to press his forehead to yours. He hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing else, seemingly content to hold you and stare into your eyes. "A surprise that we will have to move to the kitchen for, if you want to see it," you smiled then, voice taking on a teasing edge. Ford sighed dramatically, straightening back up, though there was a simmering heat in his eyes that made you shiver.

"Well?" He asked, smirking down at you. "Lead the way." You blushed again, pulling away from him but keeping a hold of his hand as you lead him into the kitchen. You smiled when you felt his fingers interlace with yours.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

"You really do look incredible."

Ford was trying, desperately, to look at your face. To pay attention to the words you were saying, but after he'd fallen silent for just a little too long once more, you'd called his name. A soft, concerned look on your face as he blinked then looked back at you. A blush colored his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I just- I'm getting distracted I guess," he huffed a laugh and you smiled. You set your wine glass back down on the coffee table, scooting closer to him just so you could drape your arm over the back of the couch, close enough to trail your fingers across his shoulder. Ford suppressed a shudder and took another long swallow of his wine before he set it down next to yours. He turned to face you, resolutely not looking at where your skirt had ridden up to flash a glimpse of your soft thighs.

"Distracted, hm?" You mused and Ford smiled, sheepish, when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Yes." He huffed. "You distract me constantly, even when you're not there." His admission made your breath hitch, having not expected that. Your heart started to pound and Ford smirked. He leaned in closer, just to see the way your eyes dilated when he dropped his hand to rest on your knee, warm and comforting. Innocent, but with the potential for more.

"Oh?" You asked, breathless. "How do I do that?" Ford inhaled sharply, catching a deep lungful of your sweet, lightly spiced, perfume. It was intoxicating.

"I think of you an... alarming amount of the time," he mumbled and you giggled. Frankly, you were flattered by this new knowledge. But, of course, he didn't stop there. "I think about what you're doing, what your plans are for the day. I think about what you might've put on that morning as you got ready, sometimes I even wonder if it's that dress you wore on our first date. The one that drives me crazy." His voice was lowered, like this was a secret only you could know. You shivered, spellbound by this perfect man telling you how much and how often he wanted to.

"Yknow, I think about you too," you murmured softly. Ford hummed softly, a questioning lilt to it. He leaned in and you tensed slightly, awaiting a kiss that he planted on your cheek, instead. Then another, then another, then another. Trailing down to your jaw as his hand slowly slid up your thigh, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

"And?" He drawled the word teasingly. You lifted your hands to press against his chest, grounding yourself. Suddenly you were painfully aware of how close he was, but you couldn't find it in you to stop him. You wanted, no, needed more. "What do you think about me, honey?" The pet name made you shiver and your thighs squeezed together on instinct. A groan rumbled in Ford's chest and you felt it more than heard it, vibrating beneath your fingertips.

"I- I think about your hands," you said finally. You felt breathless, heart pounding so hard you were dizzy, as his lips gently grazed your neck. It was a light, barely there touch but it felt like fire. He pressed a kiss to your skin then; firm and sudden and you thought you felt the barest flicker of his tongue. His hand squeezed your thigh, encouraging you.

"I think of how they feel when you touch me, how... easy you make it for me to feel desperate when you've hardly done anything." The words were leaving you in a rush, you couldn't stop them now. And, if the way Ford was gripping your thigh as his kisses began to linger longer and longer was anything to go by, he didn't want you to stop. "I think about your lips, how much I love kissing you. Or the way you grab my hips and squeeze them when you're overwhelmed."

Whatever else you were going to say was lost as Ford surged forwards suddenly, claiming your lips in a kiss. You melted into him, one hand sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. A light pressure kept him close as you traded kisses that slowly grew more heated the longer they went on. It was a struggle to remember your original plan, especially when Ford was nipping lightly at your lower lip, soothing the sting with the tip of his tongue.

"Wait- wait, Ford h-hang on," you panted softly. Dimly, you wondered how you'd made it to this position, finding yourself sitting halfway in his lap. Stopping suddenly, Ford pulled away enough to look at you, pleased with the dazed and desirous look on your face.

"What? Is everything okay?" He murmured, brow creased with concern. You smiled, heart fluttering with fondness.

"No- I mean, yes, everything is fine I just- i wanted to talk to you about something before we get..." You paused. "...carried away." You finished with a blush, eyes darting to some distant corner. Ford hummed, as smile playing over his lips. You yelped as he suddenly gripped your hips, pulling you towards him until you sat fully in his lap, straddling him. He grinned up at you, unashamed in the slightest.

"Well, go on then. I'm all ears," he murmured and you rolled your eyes fondly. You smoothed your fingers over his sweater vest, fingers tracing idly patterns as you tried to get the courage to speak.

"Well, um," you cleared your throat, nerves rioting in your belly. "We- we've been seeing each other for awhile now and I... want more with you," you spoke softly, placing emphasis on your words in the hopes he'd pick up on the underlying meaning. You weren't disappointed when you heard his sharp intake of breath, hands squeezing your hips where they still rested.

"And?" He said, voice soft and gentle, realizing his prompt was necessary. You swallowed, then took a deep breath. You can do this, like ripping off a bandaid.

"Well, I just. I thought it would be best for you to know beforehand that I'm not the most... experienced." That was an understatement.

"Darling," Ford's voice was soft and fond. His hands came up to rest gently over yours on his chest, squeezing your fingers. Your gaze darted back to his, and you were lost in the intensity of them. "Are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?" Your blush darkened. You bit your lip, and his eyes tracked the movement greedily. It was taking everything in him to stay composed, calm for your sake, as he waited for your answer.

You nodded after a moment, not trusting your voice. Ford inhaled sharply, steadying himself against the sudden onslaught of possessiveness that rushed through him. Never, in his life, would he have thought he'd end up being the more experienced one in a relationship. Add that to the intoxicating thought that though you were, arguably, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen he'd be the first one to get to have you like this, and he nearly felt drunk on the feelings churning through him. He swallowed, realizing he needed to say something, anything.

"You've really- I mean, never?" He asked and if you heard the strain in his voice, you didn't comment.

"No, not really, I just." You shrugged one shoulder, still avoiding his gaze. "I don't know, I guess I've just been waiting for the right person. I've never... liked anyone, as much as I like you." You admitted the last part in a soft, shy voice and Ford felt his heart flutter even as his cock twitched in his pants. Adorable.

"Well," he started slowly. "I hope you know I would never ask or expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with; if you don't want to do anything now, we don't have to. We can wait as long as you'd like, okay?" He paused, waiting for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded, gaze flitting to his shyly, he smiled.

"And... what if I am ready?" You asked softly and Ford couldn't contain the soft groan that left him. His arms moved to wrap loosely around your waist, gently holding you to him as his forehead pressed to yours.

"Darling, don't." He inhaled sharply, so close his lips brushed against yours every time he spoke. "Not if you're not certain, please."

A soft, needy sound bubbled up inside you. You wiggled a little in his lap and Ford choked when he felt you shift against his cock, already half hard in his slacks.

"But I am," you implored. "I'm so sure, Ford, please. I just- I wanna feel you, all of you." And how could he deny you now? When you looked at him so sweetly, need shining in your pretty eyes. With a broken groan he surged forward, kissing you suddenly and deeply. Your hands delved into the short curls at the base of his neck, nails scratching lightly over his skin.

Time passed by in a blur. A flurry of kisses and touches, Ford's hands gripping and squeezing and feeling every inch of you he could reach. You were lost in him. In the intensity of his touches, the pleasure that burned through you and set you on fire. You only realized how far gone you were when you blinked and suddenly found yourself in your room, back pressed to your mattress as Ford hovered over you. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his vest, his shirt unbuttoned down to just below his broad chest. You had lost your top all together, now only clad in your skirt and underwear.

"God, look at you," Ford breathed the words softly, reverently. He sat back on his heels, letting his greedy gaze drink in every inch of you. His hand trailed down the front of your body, fingertips starting at the hollow of your throat and skimming down, down, down to your pudgy belly. You felt shy under his scrutiny, and instinctively started to move your arms to cover yourself, but Ford was faster.

"Uh-uh, none of that, pretty girl," he murmured, catching both wrists in one hand easily and pinning them above your head. Your belly fluttered with heat at the display and you whimpered, unable to hide the noise. Ford swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing where it was trapped behind his zipper.

"You're so... responsive," he murmured softly. He leaned down, caging you in with his body over yours, propped up on his forearms on either side of your head. You kept your hands where they were, despite desperately wanting to touch him. You were curious to see what he'd do now and he certainly didn't disappoint. You arched upwards with a sharp inhale when you felt one big, warm palm skin down across your side until he could cup your breast. Squeezing and feeling the plush fat in his fingers.

Heat pulsed through you, a whimpery mewl of his name leaving your lips. "Thaaats it, jus' relax n'let me take care of you," his voice was a low, soothing murmur against your skin, drunk on your scent and your responses. His hands left you, grabbing your hips to tug you forwards until your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. You moaned when this brought your aching cunt pressed tightly against the throbbing bulge in his slacks, the pressure a welcome sensation. Ford's nimble fingers skimmed back upwards, taking advantage of the slight arch in your back to unclip your bra and toss it. Your breasts now free, you both moaned as his bare skin made contact, thumbs drawing light circles over your perked nipples.

"Oh" a soft, breathy exhale left you as you felt the pads of his thumbs, roughened with callouses, rub over your perked and sensitive nipples. "Nngh F-Ford-" your eyes fluttered, panting softly. You slid your fingers into his hair as he lowered himself, kissing and biting along your breasts.

"Pretty- so, so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin. He let the fingers of his left hand tweak and tease at your left nipple, hot mouth moving over to take your right between his lips. Your thighs twitched where they were wrapped around his waist, shifting and squeezing as the pleasure sparked along your nerves.

"Nnngh Ford- F-Ford, oh fuck-" your voice cut off with a whiny gasp. Ford's groan reverberated into you as your thighs around his waist squeezed and pulled, heels digging into his lower back to push him closer until your rolling hips found his clothed cock to grind against. "Oh, oh yes, fuck-" you gasped the words, high and pitchy as your poor, neglected pussy throbbed at the contact. Ford swore he could feel the heat of you bleeding through your clothes. The slide of your panty-clad pussy too smooth for you to be anything over than soaked.

"Good girl," the words sent pleasure arcing through you, your head tossed back against your sheets as your eyes fluttered. "Oh honey," he cooed softly. His voice was tight with restraint, the way you rubbed your cunt against him slowly picking at his sanity. "Y'like that? Hm? Fuck, that's it. Just like that, sweetheart. Use me, make yourself feel good." He was mesmerized. Spellbound by the sight of your as you grasped at the sheets beneath you, back arching as your hips shifted and rolled. He could feel you, wet and desperate, soaking the front of his slacks. Marking him.

"Ford, f-ford-" you whined, opening your eyes to look at him. Your gaze was lidded and hazy, clouded with desire. A pout marred your spit-glossed lips and Ford twitched it his boxers, a thick ooze of precum dripping from his tip to stain his boxers.

"Shh, what is it? Hm?" He murmured, cooed at you, and the tone of his voice made your belly flutter. His hands abandoned their work at your breasts, moving to grip your hips. He steadied you before leaning forward, rocking his hips into your cunt. Your heels dug into his back, hands coming up to grab at his arms, tugging insistently until he was pressed flush against you.

He leaned in, smothering your moans in a kiss. His hips jerked into yours, messy and uncoordinated, when your hands slid to his chest. Scratching your nails along his skin, eliciting shudders and moans, you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. Pushed it off his shoulders like it had personally offended you.

"Ford," you panted softly, breaking the kiss. "Ford it's- s'not enough, I- I want more, please," your brow knitted together, an adorable little frown marring your features. Ford. His forehead fell against your shoulder with a groan, his breath puffing over your skin in soft pants. He kissed at your collarbone, nipping gently and leaving blooming marks in his wake.

"Yeah?" He said finally, voice low and rough. He kissed his way down your body, kneeling between your spread legs. "What d'you want?" He murmured, smirking as he kissed a trail of fire from your knee to your inner thigh.

"Don't--Oh fuck--don't tease," you said, petulant even as your hips wiggled. Whatever smart ass remark Ford had ready was lost in a choked off moan as he shoved your skirt up. Your pretty panties were absolutely drenched. Soaked so thoroughly that the pale pink fabric was dark.

"Oh sweetheart," he said, unable to keep the desire from his voice as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread for him. He swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the pool of saliva threatening to spill from his mouth. "You're so- you're so wet," he muttered, voice awed. One of his hands left your thigh so he could stroke a thumb over your covered slit. He moaned to feel your sopping heat, even through the sodden fabric.

"Ah, ah- please, please Foooorrrd--" you whined, hips jerking into the barely there pressure of his thumb. "You- you can't just t-tease me, I need you." You sniffled, tears suddenly filling and threatening to spill from your glossy eyes as the bubbling heat and pressure in your belly threatened to boil over. Your words did nothing to quell the harsh, possessiveness that had lashed itself in a tight band around Ford's chest.

"God, yeah, you do don't you?" He murmured. You could've cried with relief when his thumbs finally hooked into the band of your panties, dragging them down your pretty legs slowly. His cock throbbed, sticky and wet in his boxers as he watched the fabric peel away from your puffy pussymound. His mouth dropped open, another rush of drool pooling as sticky, pearlescent strings of slick made their appearance. Desperately clinging to your ruined panties.

"Fuck, honey, she's- she's just cryin' for it, huh?" You hardly recognized his voice as his. It was thick, gravelly with need, and laced with the remnants of an accent thought long gone, making his words sound harsher, dirtier. "Think you've deprived her too long, starshine. Look how needy she is," you barely registered he wasn't talking about you, but rather your pussy, before the thought disappeared. Lost in the feeling of thick, calloused fingers sliding through your slick, velvety folds. Spreading you, stroking the tips of his two fingers around the edges of your hole, just to feel the way you clenched. Tried to suck his fingers in desperately. His thumb trailed up slowly, drawing lazy circles over just the peak of your swollen little nub.

Your hips twitched forwards, wanting desperately to grind into the touches Ford was teasing you with but he was determined to get you to say what you wanted. "C'mon, wanna hear your voice," he coaxed you, a pussy drunk little smile on his mouth already.

"Please Ford," you said finally. "Please touch me, want your fingers."

"Silly, you already have my fingers," he teased, hiding his smirk. He dipped his fingers just barely into your twitching hole, gratified when you whimpered. "Try again, sweetheart."

"Want- want them in me, Ford, please," you whined at him, voice trembling. Ford swore, a harsh and muttered fuck leaving his lips.

"Put your hands in my hair- that's it, good girl," his praise made you flush. Another pulse of desire making your pussy ache. Ford swallowed thickly, breath hitching where your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging slightly. "You pull me away if it's too much, okay pretty girl? Otherwise, I'm not stopping." The wolfish grin on his lips seemed almost out of place if his eyes weren't glossy with lust. You were about to question him when he suddenly dived in, licking a stripe up your dripping cunt with the flat of his tongue, moaning like a whole when your taste coated the muscle. His fingers started to push and press, stretching the walls of your pretty pussy. He lapped at your clit, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue then licking it with the flat of his tongue. The pleasure distracted you from the pressure and slight pain of his fingers until he curled them, fingertips pressing into a soft, spongey spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck, Stanford!" Your back bowed, fingers curled tight in his hair and making him moan into your pussy. His full name on your lips was almost too much, cock pulsing and leaking a steady stream if precum. He knew the inside of his boxers had to be a sticky mess by now but couldn't be bothered to care. Not when your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, your hands in his hair tugging hard enough to make him moan.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, you're so close aren't you, baby? Such a good girl f'me, so fucking pretty like this and all mine, never gonna let anyone else see you this way, " his words were possessive and hot, spoken in between licks and sucks to your aching clit, but you loved it. They pushed you just that little bit closer and Ford could tell by the way you whimpered his name, your hips rolling down to meet his thrusting fingers. "You like it when I talk to you, honey? Like knowing how fucking turned on I am at the sight of your? Fuck you're a vision, starshine. So, so beautiful. Love that you let me have you like this, love that you're mine."

"Yours! Fuck, m'all yours Ford- please please please m'so- so close, f-fuck!" Hearing it from your lips made him throb. He had to sneak his free hand down to palm at his cock, desperate not to cum yet.

"Thaaaats it, c'mon sweetheart, cum on my fingers." His low, rumbling voice desperate and needy is what pitched you over the edge. Your back bowed, hips rolling, and once Ford was sure you were in the thick of it he replaced his fingers with his tongue. Drinking you down as if you were ambrosia, moaning into your pussy, hands gripping your hips to help you ride out your release on his face. When the waves of pleasure slowed to a gentle ebb and flow you pulled him back up. Hauling him onto the bed, hovering over you just so you could kiss him. You didn't care that you could taste yourself on his mouth, and Ford let out a slutty moan when your legs wrapped around his waist. Pulling him into you until the bulge in his slacks was pressed snugly against your sopping pussy.

"Honey- honey, wait- lemme just-- unhand me, woman, for the love of-" you felt him smile against your lips, now unable to keep kissing him because you both were smiling. Giggling like lovedrunk teenagers as you foiled his every attempt to pull away from you. He finally managed to get his slacks and boxers off, no thanks to you. The choked off moan he let out as he swiped his tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick, only made you wetter. He wondered if he'd make it out of this alive and, as he slowly started to push in and felt the tight clench of your dripping cunt, he quickly realized he wouldn't.

"Oh god," he choked the words out, forehead pressed to yours. "Fuck honey, you're so- so- fffuuuuck." His eyes fluttered, reduced to babbling nonsense. You weren't faring much better. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him and digging your nails into his back. Your mouth hung open, nothing but punched out little whimpers leaving you as he rocked his hips, sinking his cock in inch by inch until his hips were pressed flush to your ass.

"Ford- Ford you're so d-deep," you managed through panting breaths. Ford leaned in, unable to keep himself from kissing you. Really, it was just to keep you quiet. He was barely able to control himself just feeling you, how hot and wet you were, the way your cunt fluttered and squeezed around him as he bullied his way inside. He wouldn't have been able to stay sane if you started talking on top of that.

"Mm- mmnn Ford- Stanford-" you mumbled his name in between kisses, and he twitched inside you.

"Honey- honey, don't- I can't-" he whined against your lips, hips grinding into you, desperate for the way you gasped his name, nails digging into his skin. "God, you feel so good, fucking- fucking perfect, sweetheart you're so- so wet." He wasn't wrong, either. He could feel you soaking his cock, dripping down his balls. You dug your heels into his back, pussy fluttering around him.

"Please Ford," you whined. "Please move, please please please-" your words cut off with a whimper as Ford took them to heart. He started an even, steady pace, groaning into your skin at the way your pussy squeezed and sucked him back in. Desperate not to let him go. "Oh, oh god-" you choked the words out when he found your sweetspot again. Shifting his hips and angling so that his tip was giving it messy kisses every time he sank back in.

"S'that it? That the spot baby?" He twitched inside you, spurting precum to coat your walls at the fucked out look on your face. His hips jerked, pace increasing as he was desperate to keep you looking like that. Eyes glossy, brows furrowed, mouth open and panting. "Fuuuuck that's it, good girl. Jus' let me take care of you, jus' want you to feel me, feel how good it is when I'm inside you."

"So good, so- so good, Ford l-" he shushed your needy moans, leaning down to bite and suck marks into your neck. Your moans and his groans echoed throughout your room. The noise of your sloppy cunt loud enough to make anyone blush. When the pitch of your moans started to change, coming out faster, higher pitched, he knew you were close.

"Fuck you're close, aren't you? I can feel it, feel so suckin' me in- c'mon honey, cum for me, I wanna feel it," that was an understatement. He was desperate for it. Desperate to have you fully, in a way no one else ever had or would. He bit sharply at your shoulder, moaning against you skin as you squeezed him. "Fuck fuck fuck, that's it baby, that's it. Gooood giiiirl, c'mon show me who you belong to, who's making that pretty pussy feel so good." You never would've guessed Ford could be this filthy, but it was your undoing.

Your pussy clamped down around his cock, fluttering and squeezing rhythmically, making him go cross-eyed as the pleasure ripped through him. You creamed on his cock with a wail, nails scratching marks into his back he'd admire later. He felt his own orgasm hot on his heels, unable to resist the way you milked his cock.

"Baby- baby, I'm close I'm so-- oh god, so close, where-" your thighs squeezed around his waist, ankles locking behind his back and the sudden panic at realizing he couldn't pull out mixed with the pleasure in a way that left him dizzy. "Baby, baby dont- don't-"

"In me, please Ford wanna feel you wanna- wanna be full, please please please." There's no way he could've resisted you, no possible universe in which he could tell you no. Giving in with a deep, rumbling groan he felt his cock twitch, balls tightening as he pounded into you with renewed energy.

"Oooohhh fuck, my darling wants to feel full huh? My cock not enough for you h-huh? Gotta- oh god, gotta st-stuff you with my cum too?" You nodded, eyes teary from the overstimulation. When fat tears slid down your cheeks he was done. Hips jerking and fucking into you harshly, cumming with a hoarse shout of your name before he stilled inside you. You could feel his cock twitching, jerking as he spurted thick, gooey ropes of cum to coat your walls.

You both panted softly as you came down. You held Ford against your chest, feeling his heart beat where he was pressed against you. You smoothed your fingers through his hair and he hummed, soothed by the motions.

"Mmmm... y'do that and I won't have it in me to get up," he murmured. You giggled softly, kissing the top of his head as affection bloomed in your chest.

"I'm alright with that," you murmured. You shushed him softly when he started to protest. "We can clean up later. Right now, I just want to stay here. Just for a little bit. Please?" Ford paused for a moment, but the promise of your soft curves against him and your hands through his hair was impossible to resist, so he settled back against you.

"Fine. Later."

#ford pines x reader #ford pines #ford pines smut #gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls smut #smut #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #gravity falls x you #answered asks

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bettystonewell · 3 months ago

Text

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 6

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k words

Chapter Warnings: language, fluff, smut implied

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

The Men of Letters bunker was full of many wondrous and wacky things. From weapons to ancient texts, to objects that looked like they’d been pulled right out of a sci-fi movie.

Some were dangerous, plenty were extremely so, and others, Dean wouldn’t touch even if he was wearing a lead-lined radioactive safety suit. Screw ten-feet poles.

Sam would say the same about the vast collection of handwritten reports and records the place had, too, but he would be wrong. Dean did, in fact, read on occasion. And it wasn’t just in times of researching for cases or when he had the mark.

Sometimes he simply got bored.

It’s how he’d stumbled on one particular document regarding mated pairs from another world and learned that not all of Chuck’s creations had heats, ruts and knots like they assumed. Although he should’ve known that without reading it in a file. He always knew there was something funny about the doppelgangers in the Fiat besides the other Sammy’s man-bun.

Douchebuggery aside, somewhere in God’s vast universe, there were humans who weren’t categorised by secondary gender and thus alpha males who didn’t have bulbous muscles at the base of their dicks.

Yup. There was at least one Dean Winchester whose junk was the same width the whole way along, except for the tip. That perv Sinclair, who’d written on the subject the most, had actually drawn a picture of one. Not his, per se, but some random guy’s. Dean hoped.

There were also no marks or claims. No soulmate’s even. Just straight up male and female pairs, shacking up together, sometimes casual, but when serious, showing off their unions with rings and a piece of paper.

This world and its marriage thing sounded so much simpler in some ways. No marking meant no biting, and no knotting meant you could fuck off once you were done. That had to be convenient for one-night stands.

Who’d complain about that?

But this society had another thing Dean remembered, and it was something that seemed to fit what the past two weeks had been like for him and you.

The honey-days period.

At least, that sounded about right. He wasn’t about to reread the file again because the dick pick had scarred him for life.

Whatever the name was, after meeting four weeks prior, that was the stage he was at in his relationship with you, minus the swanky hotel and room service.

Every moment you had been together had been spent well, together. And Dean hadn’t had enough.

Was he whipped? Maybe. Obsessed? If that label satisfied Sammy, then sure. But as he looked down at you, lying satiated on top of him, he didn’t care, because the word that came to mind for him was happy. And the happiest he’d been in his life to date that he could recall.

He’d slept like a baby last night, and your wake-up call earlier had been awesome. Exactly what he needed after another long hunt away.

His arms wrapped tighter around you, basking in the afterglow of your latest romp in the sheets. Not that they were anywhere nearby. One half had ended up tangled in his ankles, while the other was on the floor.

He nuzzled his chin into your hair. The smell of cinnamon, a touch of apple and a nip of whisky from his lips, reminded him of his favourite dessert, and his mouth twitched. Those movies had gotten it right. If only his stomach wasn’t rumbling beneath you like a crazed animal, he might have gone in for a second helping.

He was starving. Wasting away to nothing and needing to do something about it real soon.

“What do you say I make us a big breakfast once we’ve cleaned up?” he asked. It wouldn’t be as fancy as room service, but he’d put in the extra effort for you. He knew how to whip up pancakes, bacon and eggs and would even add some fruit in it for you if it’s what you wanted.

But who was he kidding? What he had in mind wasn’t for your benefit at all.

Still, he hoped you’d agree to it. While not heavy, your hips were pressing into his bladder, and taking a leak was fast becoming the top thing to do on his imaginary list.

“I think you mean lunch,” you mumbled.

Dean strained his neck to look at the alarm clock on his bedside. Fuck. It was close to twelve. No wonder he was feeling pangs from both organs. Normally, he’d be up and about by now. “I haven’t slept this late in a long time,” he said.

“Last I recall, you weren’t sleeping.” You chuckled and raised your head up to meet his eyes. The cool morning air rushed straight to his nipples, nipping at them, and yours, sending signals to his still deflating knot.

Damn bunker was always cold.

There must’ve been a few drops left of his release because he definitely felt a pulse at the root of his shaft and you quirked your brow.

“I just spent three days without you, sweetheart.” He shrugged.

He’d missed you every second of them, too. Though, unlike the case in New Mexico, his insecurities had become more lax.

You now had an anti-possession tattoo, and you knew how to shoot a pistol and shotgun, sort of.

The revolver he kept under the war room table was a start. It was loaded, cocked and ready to use, which yes, he was well aware went against every piece of gun training his father and Bobby had ever taught him, but precaution was key. He needed to protect you, even when he wasn’t there to do so.

“You just got home,” you said, finding a sudden interest in his own ink. “And you’ve been working a lot. How about you let me make something for you?”

His fingers brushed through your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear that had fallen down. “Last I recall,” he said smugly, “you were working, too.”

“What? Reading text books. You and Sam had it all figured out.”

You pushed away from the mattress and crawled back to sit upright. But his hands found your hips, and he stopped you from moving any further. He didn’t like your tone or the way you frowned.

“We didn’t know we had to light it up,” he said, hoping praise was what you needed to hear.

It was the truth, and he and Sam had been grateful. They could’ve spent longer away from home if you hadn’t found the solution. The damn thing, that still had no name, had similarities with vamps, but it still wouldn’t stay put, even after a machete to the neck and the rounds of lead and silver they blasted into its torso.

But you scoffed. “How often do you guys burn things?”

Without hesitation, he opened his mouth to speak. Only you had him stumped. His brain had no words to counter with.

They burned shit all the time, vengeful spirit or not. If they were ever in need of disposing of a body real quick, it was digging a hole and lighting her up, or finding a wood chipper. And it wasn’t like he had one floating around in Baby’s trunk.

That answer wouldn’t help him or you, though, and there was more to this than you being upset about the method they’d used to get the job done.

He saw the pout, the subtle nod that you’d made your point, and the way your fingers continued to trace the lines of the pentagram on his chest. Any idiot could tell that something was wrong. He just needed to know what.

You were his mate after all, with or without his claim, and his current bodily function issues aside, it was his duty to look out for your welfare, both emotional and physical. Yet, he was hesitant to open up whatever rabbit hole he was about to.

Luckily, his inner Sammy was having a conniption. ‘Talk to her,’ it said. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions like you always do.’

And for once, rather than saying something stupid, he listened. “Is everything okay?”

“I just—” You bit your lip.

His stomach had decided it was the perfect time to gurgle in protest.

“You know what, nevermind.” You patted him gently. “We should clean up. You haven’t eaten yet.” And you swung your leg off of him and moved to the edge of the bed.

Fuck. Guilt crept in on him. Something was bothering you, but things were getting desperate for his stomach and his plumbing, and the last thing he wanted to do was wet the bed, so ultimately, his own predicament won out.

He sat up, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you down onto your back, catching you by surprise. Your squeal of delight telling him distraction was key.

Dean captured your lips with his, placing all of his feelings into it to soothe whatever was troubling you. Promising himself that he would work on fixing things as soon as the horde rumbling in his insides had ebbed.

Sam had been busy himself that morning.

So far, he’d searched the web for anything resembling a case, and found nothing. He’d also gone for a run, taken a shower, and was finishing up in the bathroom when he received the text.

Where are you? It read.

He didn’t think much of the message. Why would he?

It wasn’t unusual for Dean to use his phone rather than look for him. The bunker was large, after all. Three levels, multiple halls and passageways, and those were just the areas they’d discovered. Who knew how expansive a place could be when it had a giant telescope and a shooting range amongst other rooms?

While he found some interest in that stuff, Sam still prioritised cataloguing the library. Something he hoped to get you on board with, because Dean never helped him, and you had some experience with your former job.

He sighed as he picked up his phone to type out his response - My room. At least he would be when his brother arrived at his bedroom door. It wasn’t far away and Dean liked to go slow on rest days. Especially now with you around.

Unfortunately for Sam, however, he had misunderstood Dean’s intentions, and dawdling by account was the last thing he should’ve done.

He took his time, putting his boots on, getting the socks into position so that the seams didn’t annoy his toes in the corners. He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper, making sure each piece was turned the right way out and separated. Finally, he returned his damp towel to the metal rung he kept it on, folding it just so that the edges lined up, and stepped out into the corridor with a wave of steam close behind him.

Swivelling on his feet, he strolled back towards his room, continuing with his leisurely pace.

He had not a care in the world.

That was until he rounded the curve and found himself in front of his brother, carrying you over his shoulder, and he did a double take.

“Sammy?”

“Dude! What the hell.”

Unlike Dean, you had some shame and scrambled to make sure the sheet you’d been wrapped in covered your body, though you had done a fair job of that before Sam had run into you both, and he appreciated it.

He liked you. You seemed kind and sweet. Too good for Dean if he was honest, but he respected the soulmate thing and knew that for whatever reason, even if it was unknown, you already had a profound bond.

With Dean, however, he’d rather not have shared as much as what he was seeing. It was bad enough he’d heard things the past two weeks since returning from New Mexico, but this? “Please tell me you’re wearing something.” He sighed.

“Why’d you think I sent that message for?” Dean grinned, and Sam shook his head.

“Because you were looking for me?”

“No.” His voice was higher than usual. “I wanted to know where you were. There’s a difference.”

Fucking hell. He may have been awake for a good six hours now, but it was still far too early for semantics, especially with Dean. “Well, here I am,” Sam said, his arms and chest jerking forward in frustration.

“This ain’t your room.”

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. Why did he bother? It was days like these he wished he’d stayed at Stanford. Or left Dean alone to succumb to that djinn in Illinois. Either way, he would’ve saved himself some crap. “I was headed there!”

“Well, keep heading there. I gotta take a leak,” Dean said as he sped past. Your hands reached down, doing their best to cover the parts of him Sam didn’t want to see.

“Sorry,” you mouthed, and he shook his head in return.

He knew he liked you. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to handle his brother with you around. Especially if what he’d just witnessed was about to become a regular occurrence.

Dean jiggled, flushed and flipped the lid. He was a courteous guy. And just maybe, had learnt his lesson a long time ago while living at Lisa’s.

You were already in the shower waiting for him when he padded across the tiled floor to wash his hands.

You’d been quiet ever since he’d mentioned their recent case in Iowa. Quieter still when he’d made a joke about Sammy, having the personality of the Mountain despite being younger after he’d lied about where he was, and Dean was growing concerned. You normally laughed along with him about this stuff, and sure, it had been only four weeks of knowing you, but this was different to how you usually were around him.

Were you really upset that they’d ganked the last d-bag by lighting ‘em up in flames? Had you wanted to help more on the case? Did you want to, Chuck forbid, hunt with them?

Over his dead body.

There was no way you’d ever take up that life. The guns and tattoo were only there as a precaution, nothing more, so he hoped there was another explanation.

But what else?

Your heat was due soon.

Maybe this change in mood was a sign it was starting?

‘You ain’t asking that,' he chuckled silently to himself. He didn’t have a death wish. Though he was screwed if this was going to become daily life for him.

He pushed those thoughts to the side. He was being a douchebag just thinking of them, and that wasn’t him.

That belonged with man-bun Sammy and the version of him that wore dress shirts without a suit and tie. The guy was one good looking fella, he’d give him that, but Dean didn’t need a fancy-ass shirt to pull off the same amount of charm with you, or anyone else. He was like Swayze. Better with age.

He glanced over the reflection of his torso in the mirror, catching your silhouette behind the glass screen sitting just above his shoulder.

The room was quiet besides the shower and splashing noises made as you washed. There was no sound of tears or smell of them, and he took that as a good sign. Great, when you smiled warmly at him as he entered the cubicle with you.

“Better?” You squinted through the stream.

“I am now,” he said as he stepped closer to steal the warm water from you, earning himself a wet slap and you a cheeky grin.

His hardened chest pressed against your soft one, leaving barely any room for the spray to flow.

There was something sexy about slippery skin. There was something sexy about your skin. Who was he kidding?

Still feeling playful, Dean’s hand moved to perch on your hip. He leaned in as if he were about to plant a kiss on your lips, but swooped behind you last second, reaching for his body wash on the inbuilt shelf.

That earned him a firmer smack. One he revelled in. Violence was never the answer. He’d made that clear when he screwed with Dick. It told him his shenanigans were working, though.

That, and you hit like a girl.

He caught your arm and poured a generous amount of soap into your palm, proceeding to use your hand to wash himself.

“I need to teach you how to throw a punch,” he said as he draped your fingers around his neck first, then down over both shoulders and pectorals. All guided by him, and his even bigger grin.

“Why? I’m not a hunter.” You scoffed.

You weren’t interested in being one, either, by the sounds of it, thank fuck.

Your hand pulled against his movements. “You thought I wanted to be?”

How did you do that? “I was worried you might.”

“What made you think that?”

Now that he was being asked, he didn’t have the answer. “I, ah… I dunno. Something’s bothering you ‘bout the last hunt.”

You took a step back and hit the wall with a soft slap, looking at him as if he’d just told you werewolves weren’t real, even though you very much knew they were. He’d ganked one in between the witches and their most recent case.

“So you thought I wanted to join you? It…” You shook your head. “I thought you were hungry?”

You would be wrong. He had lost his stomach minutes ago and now had Famine banging around in there instead. But he didn’t tell you that. You’d think he was crazier than you already did if he started bringing up the apocalypse. That was a discussion for another time when he brought up their not so straightforward relationships with God and the King of Hell.

“I am.” He laced his fingers between yours and pulled you back to the centre of the shower, watching as the spray hit your shoulders. “But it can wait. There’s something you’re not telling me here, and I need you to tell me.”

Your head lowered, drawing him down, too.

Bad move. The water now ran over your breasts to your pert nipples, the curves creating tiny waterfalls that captivated his attention with the way droplets pooled at the edges. He had to swallow hard.

“I want to make you breakfast,” you said.

Uh… The statement would’ve made him revert back to eye level, but when you bounced on the heels of your feet, it didn’t help his resolve. The words, though. What? “You wanna cook?” You cooked all the time.

“No.” You shot back up. “Well, yeah. That came out wrong… I want to…help more…around the bunker. You know, earn my keep.”

Earn your keep.

Do more?

“You do plenty around here.” You’d been cooking for them almost every meal since you’d moved in. Organised the kitchen and kept on top of the use by dates in the fridge. He hadn’t drunk off-milk or been in the laundry room in over a month. Maybe even two for the latter. But he wasn’t about to admit that.

“No, I don’t.” You shook your head. “Not enough. I know hunting doesn’t exactly pay the bills, but you and Sam go out there and save people, and here I am, making the occasional meal for you guys when you get home.”

Your hand came up to his stomach and smoothed over the creases that highlighted where his muscles lay beneath. “I wanna help more,” you said. “Dick took all my—”

Dean smirked at your usage of your ex’s nickname. That was his ‘endearment,’ not yours.

“Don’t do that.” You swatted him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it. I felt you smile.”

You did? Well, that was new. But he didn’t question you. He had no heart to. Your mind was on a one-way ticket to that spark he knew.

“…Ritchie took everything I have, and now I don’t have a job to help pay my way.” You reached for the soap and squeezed out another dollop onto your palm and started running it over his body once more. “I can’t even help you with your cases. I just…don’t want you to think I’m mooching off of you guys.”

So that’s what was wrong.

Dean had forgotten all about that dickbag bleeding you dry. Too happy and lost in the life he’d been building with you to realise that your baggage was still weighing you down.

“It ain’t mooching if there’s nothing to mooch, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist while his hand came up to cradle your head.

“But I’m used to working. Contributing. And I’m going stir crazy not doing that.”

Dean sighed. There was that guilt again, only now he had cause for it. He and Sam always had each other, but they were leaving you here for days at a time, with no transport, no respite, no purpose, while only his phone calls kept you company.

It’s no wonder you were struggling.

This place must’ve felt like a prison to you, compared to the life you’d had, even with that abusive fucktard. It was still cold in the warmer months. Creepy, as you’d complained about when they were in New Mexico, and you had no nest here, or space to call your own so you could make one.

Dean could relate to all of that if he was honest, minus the nesting thing. There’d been times in his life when he felt frustrated because he couldn’t do jack. A broken leg. Heart problems because of some crazy-ass ghost. Sammy in hell. Okay, that was a little out of the present perspective… All in all, though, he didn’t know what to do to help you.

That was until you said, “How about you let me make you breakfast?” with a smile, and while he was perplexed once again by how the fuck you’d done that, he kissed you on your forehead, and smiled against your skin in return.

“We’ll do it together,” he whispered. And then grabbed your hand and moved it to wash his ass cheek.

Dean fumbled through the contents of the fridge. His fingers and ears were now at risk of frostbite on account of how long he’d been searching in there for. "Where’d you say it was?”

“Top shelf,” you said over the sizzling of bacon in the pan.

He’d looked there already and there was no fucking butter.

He raised his head and pushed past the milk, juice and whatever the hell vegetable Sam had blended into liquid this time. If smoothies weren’t meant to be green, they probably weren’t meant to be brown either.

Yes, it could’ve been melted chocolate…

But it wasn’t.

Cocoa, or anything else associated with its candy form, did not smell like the contents of his stomach after cheap whiskey. Nor did it have lumps. Or take on that specific colour.

Gross.

And no closer to finding the damn butter.

He shut the fridge with a sigh louder than the metal doors creaking and went to the pantry. Oil would have to do. Surely they had some of that lying round the bunker. The kind he used for Baby’s engine was a no go, obviously, but he wouldn’t say no to blessed pancakes if he got desperate enough to take the holy stuff from her trunk.

“What’re you doing?” you asked as he scoured the open shelving.

“Wasn’t any.” There was, however, canola or olive oil, and he picked them up and turned around to show them to you. “Which—”

Your hands were already on your hips.

You scrunched your nose and channelled your inner Samantha before spinning on your heels, searching for the ingredient yourself.

It was no surprise you found it straight away, but in his defence, Dean hadn’t expected it to be in the container Jody had ‘leant’ them a few months ago. The last time he’d seen the thing, there was gravy inside that was definitely gravy and not something he questioned as chocolate.

“Where’d you find that?”

“In the fridge. Top shelf.” You deadpanned.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but pulled you close anyway when he stepped up next to you. “I didn’t know you’d put it in that.”

His chin dipped down to your shoulder and nuzzled his initials hidden beneath the fabric. The hiss you made between your teeth brought a smirk to his lips and a familiar pang to his own body.

“It keeps better. Though I had to clean it out first. I dunno what was in there, but it wasn’t edible.”

He moved to your mating gland and chuckled into your skin, peppering kisses over the sensitive flesh. “And you thought you weren’t helping ‘round here.”

“Cleaning out Tupperware with a living ecosystem growing inside of it does not make up for a nine to five,” you stated.

Though he heard you, his mind focused on the change in your pulse that had taken on a life of its own. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was pulling his into a similar rhythm.

Your skin was hot to touch, warming the surrounding air, and everything started to make sense. “How much longer till your heat, ‘mega?” (And here he swore he wouldn’t be a douchebag.)

Your “Hmm?” was distant, and he grazed his front teeth over your neck, drawing away to find lust filled eyes turning to meet him.

“Do I need to stop takin’ the suppressants?” His brows wagged, hopeful and just as driven as you had been lost in his attentions.

“It might be a good idea,” you said, patting his cheek. “Probably best to think about your poor brother too…shit.” Your focus returned to the bacon that was fast becoming a little too crispy even for him. When it spat back at you, you flinched. “Well, excuse me for not letting you burn,” you directed to the pan.

He rubbed a placating hand over your rear, then got to work whipping up a batch of pancakes. It was now past noon and while he may have been hungry before, he was close to eating the raw ingredients he churned the spoon through.

‘Sammy?’ his mind repeated. He’d rather not. But Dean recognised you had a point after this morning.

If things were reversed, there’s no way he’d be sticking around during your first heat. It was surprising Sam hadn’t lost his cool with him earlier, and he wondered if he should send his brother on a fake milk run. All he needed to do was find a suspicious enough murder a few states over. Maybe get Donna or Jody involved and…

Dean looked down at the butter in the container. Another wider grin spread across his face.

“What?” you asked. Not moving an inch.

“How many days do you think we got?”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Ahhhhh - any guesses what's happening next?

I started to gain a rather large interest in the concept of nesting as I worked through this story, and the first little signs of it are coming up next chapter (it's in the preview below). As someone who's made a career in retail, it was only natural that my sales brain came up with stores having nesting departments, and it will feature again if you catch my drift.

I won't give too much away, but I'm on the edge of my own seat waiting to give you guys the next chapter to the point I’m considering uploading it earlier! Are you guys ready for him to claim her?

Until then ❤️

Chapter 7: Honeydayimg 04/04

“Are you sure we need all this stuff?” he asked as you passed another couple with only half the things you had.

“This coming from the guy who had two slices of pie on top of his burger at lunch?”

Point taken, he supposed, but you’d eaten just as much. You’d had more than him, come to think of it. Lunch, breakfast, the night before. So when you patted his stomach, and he looked down at you grinning at him, he couldn’t help but return a knowing smile.

“You’ll thank me later,” you said.

He knew he would. In more ways than one.

Still on your way to the front, you passed the nesting department located opposite the cash registers. Of course, it was just another convenient ploy to gain some extra impulse buys from naïve omegas who hadn’t realised they needed that new blanket or another stuffy until they saw the giant pile of fluff.

To Dean’s distaste, you were also won over by the gimmick and he was pulled along for the ride.

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love-and-death-s · 4 months ago

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don’t mind me, I’m just thinking about Emmrich Volkarin and how he’d propose. It’s panicked due to having been rushed. He wasn’t expecting to actually get the rights to moving forward with being a Lich so soon. There’s no way he’d be able to move beyond unless Rook was *his*. He uses a ring that belonged to his mother. She would have passed it along to him to propose anyways, as per Volkarin tradition. The heirloom wasn’t properly polished. He would have gone back to his parent’s graves, told them excitedly. Once he’s a Lich, a LORD of the Necropolis, he’d proudly stand by Rook, his Lady, his wife.

For mortal Emmrich, it would be before the final ascent to Elgar’nan. “Darling, we need to get married.” “Oh? And when would we have our nuptials done? After defeating that hurlock?” “Why not?” “Wait, what??” And then “Ah perfect! Young Master Parvus. Surely, you have some kind of authority as a magister to marry us since we are in Minrathous.” The Inquisitor is all for it, to the horror of Dorian, as it would mean that Inqy absolutely skims through the parts of his letters that talk about the details on how the magisterium works. They are married. Whether it is actually official or not, it doesn’t matter. The world is ending and they need to go stop it. But as a married couple. One of the first things he’d do when returning to the Necropolis (besides consummating the marriage asap), is to go to his parents. He’d say that he can’t wait for the day all of their souls would be on the same side of the Veil together. That they saved the Veil together.

#sorry work has been hell so I haven’t been able to actually write in my long fic but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about them #my rook #datv #dragon age the veilguard #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #ingellvar rook #mw!rook #emmrich x rook

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housemdork · 30 days ago

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house md rewatch: 1x07, "fidelity"

they took a bunch of soap opera tropes and stuffed them full of painful ethical qualms about love. i love it.

i love this episode for many, many reasons; it shows the writers' skill in adapting preexisting medical drama tropes into much more rewarding and complex viewing experiences. but, more shallowly, i gotta admit that i'm thrilled by the Walking Ethical Qualm who kicks things off:

him and his fuck-ass "i want to look pretty at work" green tie. gone are the days when he is nothing but house's conscience! wilson does all the exposition work by foregrounding the moral issue of the hour: infidelity, and how it can be twisted by those who commit it and those who suffer the consequences. i'll save my wilson-centric yapping section for the end of this post lol. for now, let's take how house describes wilson's endemic cheating problem informs the rest of the episode: "you love everybody. that's your pathology."

the adulterers in the episode - wilson and the patient, elyse - both claim that they love their partners in spite of their behavior. house seems either A) unconcerned because he's seen his best friend have this problem a dozen times before or B) disinterested because he needed elyse's truth to solve the puzzle of her illness, not the downfall of her marriage. he's content to leave things where they lie - everybody lies.

cameron, however, is abundantly not content with this. and though they never share a scene together in this episode, cameron is profoundly affected by wilson's fidelity question in 1x07. house doesn't let cameron engage with elyse and her husband, ed, because he doesn't think she's prepared for those hard conversations post-1x04, the baby crisis. i think it's a valid concern, and it's one that wilson notoriously highlighted when he had to take the fall for cameron in 1x04. by all accounts, she isn't ready.

which is why it's shocking (and a little satisfying) to hear cameron tell ed that he is a shitty person for hoping his wife dies because she cheated on him. because house md loves to prod at the uncomfy parts of ordinary life, they've honed in on a moral grey area - surely it's not okay to wish death on someone for cheating...

and while it sorta feels like, on the surface, cameron is being something of a girls' girl here, she's actually sabotaging her own belief system and coming to the meta-textual defense of someone she's been shown not to agree with: wilson (hear me out on this lol). in the subsequent scene, cameron confides in house that her husband died at around 21 years old of thyroid cancer after they were married for 6 months (sidebar: this is arguably one of my very favorite pieces of backstory for all the characters). this is why she's so impacted by things like loss, betrayal, and lying. she acted on such pure intentions that it's especially jarring for her to witness cruelty, despite being very familiar with how hard Life (capital L) can be.

house is fascinated by this contradiction, and draws it out of cameron that she knew her husband was dying when they got married. then, my favorite exchange between house and cameron transpires: "and you married him anyway. you can't be that good a person and well-adjusted." "why?" "because you wind up crying over centrifuges." "or hating people?"

i said before that house can never take what he dishes out, especially to cameron, and this truly was the gag of the century that will follow house until the very end of the series. she sees such kindness in house, is so dedicated to seeing and unveiling it, that it actually breaks my heart.

but back to cameron and wilson. cameron's devotion to her husband was completely absolute. it's astonishing to house (and to the audience, i'm sure). so when, by the episode's end, she's pleading with ed to stay with elyse despite the betrayal, cameron has evidently experienced a huge readjustment of not her morals, per se, but her way of seeing those morals in the world.

she still believes in the absolutism of love. i don't think anything will take that away from her. but cameron forces the audience to confront the idea that love is imperfect right as she's confronting it, too. if house asserts that wilson's pathology is loving everyone, can love itself be a problem? cameron is wrestling with this: can something inherently good and pure be so destructive?

in wilson's life (and in his evil little adulterer way), yes, love is destructive. he's so far down the adulterer pipeline that he's bastardized the hard reality cameron is trying to grapple with in 1x07. but house himself has established, textually, that both cameron and wilson are defined by how much they love. one is clearly sick and twisted and based on lies, the other not so much, yet this doesn't mean the world gives preferential treatment to either.

the face of someone well accustomed to how twisted relationships can be vs. someone who's learning about that fact for the first time:

not to read too deeply, but wilson being in a dark suit coat for the duration vs. cameron's white lab coat seems significant, too.

above all, i love how house presides over this dilemma. he remains as distant as possible, just observing another one of wilson's relationship flops and the dissolution of a fraught patient relationship, until cameron. cameron draws vulnerability out from house in a way only wilson has thus far, and caps it off with a profound understanding of why he's Like That. the goodness lurking in house is as painful for him as it is for cameron. she can see that.

now (more) about wilson :)

that fuck-ass green tie being compared to a breast augmentation. the breast augmentation that was intended to get the clinic patient's husband to sleep with her. the breast augmentation that failed because her husband was already POISONING her to decrease their sex drive. the green tie therefore dooming wilson to another failed affair because it's about Needing, not fulfillment, not anything long-lasting. the green tie/breast augmentation parallel being tied to someone's sex drive. wilson being so far in the closet that -- *gunshot*

let's not even mention the fact that house intuitively knows that wilson's current wife (who tf is julie lol) would never get him a green tie in the first place.

later we hear what becomes, in my opinion, one of the most vital character traits in all of house md: wilson's need for neediness. or, to use house's words about the new oncology nurse wilson has so kindly been ~having lunch with~ - "she would certainly have the neediness you need." doctor james evan wilson you make me crazy!!!!!

viewers at this point have no clue why wilson needs neediness. it sounds very superfluous and highly misogynistic/manipulative (not that it isn't in the long run, but we learn about the deep pathology as time goes on ofc), probably a callback to how they just ogled the clinic patient together. big yikes. with some imagination, however, we can guess that this Need For Neediness coincides nicely with his oncology practice - those patients will always need him. and he will love all of them (somehow), as house points out: "you loved all your wives. probably still do. in fact, you probably love all the women you loved who weren't your wife...as long as you're trying to be good, you can do whatever you want."

i remember watching this for the first time and being like "holy baggage. is wilson the villain?"

all that is to say this was a HELL of a fun episode with an insane patient plot twist - ELSYE CHEATED ON ED WITH HIS BEST FRIEND! WHO WAS JUST ASKING ABOUT ED'S SEX LIFE! i love the cameron centrism, was thrilled to hear her backstory reveal, etc., etc. this made up for 1x06.

my last bit here is very divorced from this episode but spoilers the series finale:

6 months. she married him anyway. "i watched my husband die of cancer." cameron seeing the same good in house that inspired her to love and stay with her dying husband. staring down a clock together and living the best life they could. i know the series finale was not planned. i hear that parroted all day, every day. but seriously. how tf did all these parallels happen.

#house md #malpractice md #greg house #james wilson #allison cameron #cameron #house md rewatch #rewatch 1 #season 1 #not much to say about cuddy foreman or chase here unforch #i got too distracted by jennifer morrison slaying as always #hilson #i have to tag it i'm sorry

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multific · 2 years ago

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Our Souls Tangled

Tai'stbah x Reader

Summary: Growing up on Yautja Prime as a human was a difficult task. Thankfully, your parents taught you well and now, it was your time to prove your worth as a member of the tribe and get married.

You walked along the ship, trying to find your way back to your room but you were utterly lost.

No matter how many times you have been on this ship, you always managed to get lost at least once per trip.

You grew frustrated with yourself.

You were a part of their tribe, you were the daughter of a Yautja... well adoptive daughter.

Your mother was pregnant with you when a Yautja saved her.

Your mother said your biological father was a human on Earth. But all you knew was Yautja Prime.

You knew you were different from them, yet they never treated you any differently.

You knew their language, their traditions and customs. You were one of them.

You were a great hunter and an even better cook.

Your mother and father taught you well.

Your father, a tribe leader, Pall-Za'ko taught you the ways of a Yautja, and even if you were not as big or strong as them, you were one of them. He taught you how to use a knife and other weapons.

Your mother, Helena, taught you how to cook and be vigilant. She taught you songs and tales, she taught you that even if you were a human amongst the Yautja, you were still strong.

When you came of age, your parents sent you on a hunt. Your very first amongst the other younglings.

And you came back victorious.

It was the first time you saw your father that proud as he watched your mother hug and kiss you.

And now, you were sent to find a husband.

A nearby tribe, known for their skills to create weapons, had sons ready for marriage, so you and two other females were sent over in hopes of uniting the two tribes.

The leader of the tribe was a young male, who inherited the title after his father's death.

It was said that he was picky and he refused to take a female as his wife.

You knew it was pointless to go, if he refused so many of them, why pressure him more?

But you also knew your duties as the daughter of a tribe leader.

So, you didn't argue.

You saw it as an opportunity, he will reject you along with the other females, and you will be back by the same time tomorrow.

So, you got dressed once you finally found your room and got ready for the arrival.

You never felt smaller than right now.

You heard that this tribe had some huge males, but this was ridiculous.

It was said that your tribe were better hunters because they were smaller and faster.

But these Yautja were huge.

Tall and broad.

You heard your companions making comments regarding the males.

But soon, all of you were brought in front of the leader one by one.

You were kept for last.

And just as you expected, as the others went in, they came out.

Both were rejected.

Now, you just had to deal with the rejection and be on your way home to your bed.

But as you entered the home of the tribe leader, and you locked eyes with him, you felt as if the air was knocked out of your chest.

You felt a weird sensation in your stomach and your head started to hurt.

You could only stare at him.

Tai'stbah, the leader of the tribe was introduced to you by one of his men.

A great leader, you listened as they listed all of his achievements and you couldn't help but feel impressed.

You also never looked away from him.

His eyes were glued to you and you were glued to him.

You thought he might find it strange that you were human. But you never expected him to keep staring at you.

And you had no idea why you were feeling this way.

In the end, the two females were sent home, you stayed, according to a member of the tribe, their leader couldn't decide when it came to you, so they invited you to stay.

Which shocked you.

Why would he want you to stay?

Did he not know you were a human? What was happening?

But no one said anything.

Everyone just kept avoiding you.

Later that day, you were asked to wear a traditional bride's dress, you wanted to refuse, but you knew better.

If he wants you to marry him, it is why you came here. You cannot say no.

You didn't want to disappoint your parents.

You were led to a room where you were told Tai'stbah would wait for you so you two could have dinner alone.

When you entered, he wasn't there yet. Knowing where you could sit, you sat down right next to the tribe leader's spot. It would show respect and that you weren't afraid.

When he entered, you stood up and bowed your head, just like you were taught.

He sat down in his respectable place and so did you.

You were both served food before the cooks left.

You looked at anything but him.

You didn't understand why you were there. He rejected everyone, yet he asked for you to stay.

"I choose you." he said and you looked at him, looking into his eyes. "Mates." he said.

Mates or soulmates.

Yautja traditions regarding mates were simple and sacred, if a yautja finds their mate, they are to be together forever. Separation would hurt the two of them, it was said, that soulmates bond the moment they meet. A bond which can never be broken.

"Are we really?" you asked and he nodded.

"I felt it, did you not?"

"I-I felt something... I wasn't sure what it was."

"My parents were mates. My father once told me how he and my mother met, he said he felt the strongest pull towards her, and that he knew he could not be separated from her. And so did she. I rejected other females because I wanted the same my parents had." Tai'stbah explained and although it made a little sense, you were still sceptical. And you could see, he understood.

You recalled the sensation you felt in your stomach.

Could that be?

But as you sat there and thought about it, you did notice how close you were to him and how safe you felt with him.

No other males have ever made you feel like this.

You also knew what rejecting him would bring.

Heartbreak.

Pain and suffering.

Mates are not supposed to be separated, they cannot live without the other.

But it did feel very sudden. You would say that you were unsure, but in reality, you were more unsure about the fact that you could find so much ease with someone else so quickly.

If anything you were taken aback by how fast everything was going.

It wasn't to say that it was bad per say, but it felt all too quick.

"And now I found you." he said.

"I-" you knew you should say something, but what? Should you speak from the heart? Or let your mind speak for itself?

You weren't too sure.

"I understand, I'm also rather shocked as you can imagine. I never expected the hunting tribe leader's daughter to be my Mate, but it is true, I can assure you, I wouldn't lie about such things."

You knew he wouldn't or rather, he couldn't.

Soulmates are sacered.

"I would like to try. I want to see where this feeling will lead us." you said and he genuinely looked happy.

One thing about the Yautja, they rarely showed any emotions.

--- A year later ---

You looked out of your window, the rain was pouring.

It rarely rained, but when it did, it was a heavy rain. Compared to other planets, the rain here was a lot stronger.

But you found comfort in it.

What you couldn't find comfort in however is the fact that Tai'stbah had been gone for a long while now.

He was invited on a hunt, and as a leader of his tribe, he had to go.

He had been gone for almost a month now, and you grew more and more worried with each day.

You knew he was alive, if he wasn't, you would feel it.

Later that evening, you heard the sounds of a ship landing, you rushed outside and it was indeed Tai'stbah's ship.

You stood there along with other females.

The ramp opened and he walked down, with his arms open, waiting for you.

You ran into his arms, as many other females ran to their husbands.

"I missed you." you told him and he soon pulled back, presenting you with a very impressive skull. "Thank you." you smiled at him and you both made your way back to your home.

You made sure to always have food prepared since you wouldn't have known when he would be home.

And now, it really paid off.

He ate everything you put in front of him.

"Your father sends his wishes. I got to see what a great hunter he truly is."

"He once said he won over my mother with his skills. He showed her that he was a true male."

"And now I understood why."

"So, you brought the skull to impress me?" you smiled and he nodded simply. "You shouldn't have, I'm already very impressed, Tai."

He leaned back in his chair and you moved over, sitting in his lap, you placed a kiss right between his eyes.

"You are my soft little human." he said as his hand grabbed your thigh while the other held your back.

"And you are my big strong Yautja."

"You are playing to my ego again, you know I like that."

"Can I go with you for your next hunt?"

"You said you are already impressed."

"Oh, I am. I'm only trying to determine if you would be as great of a father as I assume you could be, Tai." he snapped his head at you, eyes searching for yours.

"You want offspring? We got married a month ago and I asked you said you wanted to wait." he sounded way too happy.

"And I do. All I'm saying is my mind might change if I see you kill a couple xenomorphs." you admitted, and you felt his hands tighten around you even more.

He almost jumped up from his seat but your weight held him back.

"I-I will arrange the hunt soon! Very soon!" you laughed a little at his reaction.

"Tai! Stop freaking out please!"

"I love you too much. I want it now." he said and you laughed again.

"I love you too." you said as you placed your forehead against him.

It surely felt nice having a Soulmate. Even if you were rather taken aback by it when you two first met, but for the last year you have been together and it has never been better. You swear it felt like it was more than just a year.

Your souls found one another, and it felt as if you two knew each other all your lives.

It was exactly how it was meant to be.

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sweetinsaniiity · 9 months ago

Text

ateez as !mafia members

pairing: y/n x ot8 members (bullet format headcanon) genre/au: mafia!au, no smut, but still MDNI since there are depictions of violence (fitting for mafia members), though they are not explicitly described (warnings below), toxicity in relationships, falling in love, red flags, marriage, engagement, pregnancy, betrayal, deception, bank heist rating/warning: PG-18+ so MDNI!!! no smut (though there are hints of it), however the genre itself has mature settings, gun use, !daddy dom Hongjoong, mentions of sadism! Seonghwa, two-faced! Yunho, sociopath! Yeosang, Stockholm Syndrome! San, manipulative! Mingi, lunatic! Wooyoung, brutal! Jongho word count: 6K words (approximately 750 words per member) synopsis: Just Ateez in the mafia with their personalities and how they found love in the most unconventional manner. notes: I've been getting a lot of requests for mafia! Ateez and tbh, I've been itching to write something like this anyway while, spoiler alert, the second part of Sick, Little Games is ongoing. This was a plot for something else, but oh well. Enjoy! Warnings at the end. taglist: @ginger-mingi @0rangemilk @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos

networks: @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet @pirateeznet

HONGJOONG

The Sovereign; the head, the brains

pure evil because why the hell not?

honestly lacks empathy, he will get what he wants, come hell or high water

no nonsense bullshit leader, he is an extremely calculating, conniving and diabolical mastermind

he walks the talk and immediately takes action after making a bold decision without a second thought

always gets make fun of because of his height, but it's okay, they'd be dead by daylight

when getting information, he doesn't get involved. why?

because he's the one who taught everyone they needed to know, every bloody, gruesome detail

brilliant strategist and an absolute criminal genius, nothing gets past him

could off anyone or anything without any expression or remorse, whether they're innocent or not

there are rumours that Hongjoong had tied a cinder block on someone's foot and the tossed them in the ocean for information

or that perhaps he broke into prison alone to save Seonghwa and then broke back out without getting caught

we will never really know, but if it makes your skin crawl, then it's probably true

and speaking of Seonghwa, the other half of Matz, they built the mafia from scratch

feared by many but will burn the world to make his members happy

will sacrifice the world if it means being with them

or sacrifice Wooyoung if he gets pissed enough

but with how Wooyoung is, he'll end up sacrificing himself, instead

he will never, ever admit that he has a soft spot for the man, though

the others aren't any better either

but he'd tell himself, as long as he'd think of them as five year olds to begin with, being a leader becomes a bit easier

he meets you when he was in the pub one night and he saw you go in the bathroom

he was stunned and was immediately smitten

without thinking, he got up from his seat, went into the bathroom, locked the door, and waited for you

you were surprised and scared, obviously, but blushed when you realized that this was the guy that you've been eyeing all night

but you were too drunk to flirt back, so you ended up puking on his shirt

Hongjoong saw red, and in a fit of rage and lust, he demanded that you come home with him to make up for it

it was so embarrassing and the next year, you automatically remembered it when you woke up

you also woke up to a naked man who slept peacefully beside you and you were mortified, and you knew that this man was no normal man, so you couldn't make a move to leave

but it was okay, his demand to take you home turned into marriage after two years

!daddy dom

very demanding both in his profession and in bed

although you didn't agree on everything he did, you had no right to stop it, and if anything, you admired how he ran his empire

there has never been a time where left you unsatisfied not only in that area, but also in general when he has to get busy

not big on affection but loves holding hands, though he will never admit it

would get on his knees if you asked him to

8/10, approach him with caution

SEONGHWA

The Sadist; devil incarnate in looks and in action

causes as much pain as possible for his own benefit

not necessarily a schadenfreude, just extremely bitter and very goal-oriented

he doesn't hide the fact that he's a sadist, but he doesn't go around bragging about it

he just doesn't give a shit, he didn't invent the moniker

but Seonghwa never k*lls, ever

which makes things worse because he's a very patient man, he will get the information he needs even if it took him days or weeks

it prolongs his enemy's agony, in his mind, they'll eventually give in, and he's usually right

the other half of Matz

went to prison for Hongjoong because he wanted him to start Ateez immediately

he didn't mind prison, it was rather peaceful for him

if anything, it served as a turning point for his criminal life, he had made tons of connections, both by force and from his charm, and Hongjoong was less than surprised

if anyone was to grow their network, it was him because when God made Hongjoong, 95% was for his insane leadership and criminal mind, the rest was unknown

as a person, Seonghwa is cold and expressionless. the only time he shows emotions is when he's in an "operation"

he always gets his hands dirty, he would disable his enemies, but he would never end them

the fear of d*ath and the unknown is delicious, he said

it made him feel alive, or feel in general

he may not be the leader, but his members have a certain respect for him

except for Mingi. he does care for the taller member a lot, but Mingi made it his life's mission to annoy him as much as possible

and unfortunately for Mingi, his manipulation tactics don't work on him

"You think I'm an idiot?" Mingi would tease.

"Hardly. I think you posses above average intelligence," he would deadpan

you meet him when you tried to join the mafia

Seonghwa isn't a saint, but you're no angel either. you eliminated everyone trying out just so you could be on top

you didn't care if you cheated or crossed anyone, you had to be on top even if it killed you

and unknowingly, you had sparred with Seonghwa, and he lost

when you found out he was the Park Seonghwa, you were embarrassed because he had let you win on purpose

it hurt your ego, you had never lost before to anyone, and Seonghwa's smirk told you that he knew this

you trained under his wing, and slowly, you began to fall for him

he looks like he has never moved for anyone, like a panther, his moves are elegant, mysterious, and sleek

and you're the only he cares enough to hurt about, you were what truly made him feel alive rather than the blood that totaled his hands

at first, he rejected you, he didn't want romance to hinder him from his job and all of what came with it

you were heartbroken, but you accepted it, it made sense, falling in love wasn't in your cards, but you fell anyway

Seonghwa couldn't stay away from you, however, whenever he saw that you were making steps to move on, his heart would bleed

in the end, you won, because he did fall for you, he fell much, much harder

in fact, he had fallen for you way before you did, he just didn't want it fester in case it stopped him from being the ruthless Ateez leader

!possessive boi

so much so that he pretty much coerced you into a relationship, not that you minded, you thought it was hot

if he can't have you, then no one else can, he's going to make sure of it

a walking, talking, oversized red flag, but you're colour blind

the members often teased him for being whipped, he would just glare at everyone until they left

you always melted whenever he would pull you and gently kiss your on the forehead

in public, you'd both be very professional about the work, but when it's just the two of you, God knows how much you both can't keep your hands off of one another

9/10, approach at your own risk

YUNHO

The Serpent; a treacherous snake who will betray you

he's very friendly, like that of a small puppy, and may seem like he's very reserved

but make no mistake, Yunho excels in using psychological t***ure and will go to no end for his goals

behind his smiles is a brutal man who is worse than Seonghwa, for a man who is willing to betray anyone is very ruthless and powerful

when the enemies are getting interrogated, he often makes them believe that they are safe and that he's on their side

he will listen to them, bring them food and comfort items like clean clothes, clean pillows, and the likes, while they are detained

facade drops when he's done getting what he wants and destroys the enemy before they catch on

or when he's in an especially cruel mood, he would sometimes warns his enemies that he'd hurt them

the enemies would then panic while they're imprisoned, but Yunho would never do it. He would do this everyday until the prisoner goes insane waiting

but for the most part, Yunho typically let Hongjoong and Seonghwa handle all the bloody details, he had more penchant with the ones he had the settle some scores with, which was not common

he has a soft spot for Jongho because he's the only one who would shake his head at him when he got too far

Jongho would also be the one who'd tell him to cut his 'playtime' short because in his opinion, it's waste of time

he's so good at his act that the members don't even know his real personality sometimes

but Mingi, the other half of YunGi, does

they've been together all their lives, what's another life of crime? Only Mingi truly understands him

and you did too, you knew Yunho for who he really was and he absolutely loved you for it

Yunho and Mingi were childhood friends who had moved away when you were in middle school

you had the biggest crush on Yunho and you never forgot him even after all those years, and apparently, neither did he

one day when Yunho robbed a bank and held everyone hostage, his breath was caught in his lungs when he saw the fear in your eyes as you held your hands up

at first you weren't sure, but when you took a closer look at the man who had decided to rob the bank you worked at, you couldn't help but grasp

he completely aborted the heist and took you with him instead, much to Mingi's surprise

you didn't want a criminal for a boyfriend, but unfortunately for you, Yunho worked on his facade

he did everything to win you over, be it flowers, clothes, jewelry, etc.

you were going to fall for him all over again if it's the last thing he'll ever do, he had no idea why he was doing it or why it had to be you, but it had to be

you always frowned at him, he can't buy your love, so he changed his tactics, he began to cook, massage your back, rub your feet, and do every acts of service he could think of

and his hugs were always the tightest

Yunho was close, all he had to do was just do whatever it was that made you squirm, and behind all the sociopathy, he was genuinely happy that you were seeing him for who he was

you fell in love with the facade and he dropped it when you did, but it was too late

you knew in your head, that you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it

you didn't mind, he treated you like a princess and he was so sweet, and deep down, you knew Yunho was a good man

but was he?

every time Yunho thought about, he couldn't but smirk as a chuckle bubbled up from his chest

but he did really love you, he's always had, there's no doubt about it, how could he not when you're the most beautiful person he's ever laid his eyes on?

that love is based on his own standards, though, and you shall never find out, he'd rather end you than let you go

9/10, if you value your sanity, keep your distance

YEOSANG

The Resistance; he refuses to do bad by choice

he prefers to stay in the shadows because he doesn't believe that violence is a one and done all deal

he's more of a backup just in case things get messy

one could say that he's a pacifist, a peace monger of some sorts,

a very cunning and calculating person, however, when his patience runs thin or worse, out

has a very deceptive face that he uses to his advantage and he usually looks calm

but he's a true sociopath with no true open compassion with very warped beliefs

equally as psychotic as the others, if not worse

the others are very upfront about their brutality and violence

but Yeosang pretends that he doesn't like violence because of his disconnect with the world

but when he does get violent, the hair on everyone's arms rise

even Hongjoong is sometimes horrified of his actions, believing that he originally had good intentions, but lost them along the way

his pacifism is for the greater good, at least in his mind, but he definitely goes too far with his wickedness and delusions of grandeur

one time, he watched Yeosang interact with their enemies and he became very unsettled

he was just talking to them as if it was just a normal day

until he heard Yeosang say, "This is a brawl. I'll let the last man standing go free."

both of them watched as the enemies started betraying and eliminating each other until the strongest man was left

Hongjoong raised a brow when Yeosang offed the last man and he asked him why

"I don't like people with no honour," Yeosang shrugged. "He has no loyalty to his team."

Jongho, his best friend, wasn't at all surprised at how twisted Yeosang's logic was

they both decided to send him to a mental hospital for the time being to sort himself

that's a lie, the last thing the police would look for to find a criminal was in a mental hospital

and that's where he met you, he couldn't help but wonder why someone as sweet and innocent as you would be doing here

you never did tell him your reason, but he didn't care, he slowly lost his mind when he realized that he liked your company

when you saw him, you thought he was cute, until you found out that he was actually crazy in the head

that didn't stop you from hanging out with him though because you were curious why he was always alone

Yeosang mentioned that he has a violent background and he was pleased when you just shrugged and said that everyone lives differently and some things that are right for others may not be for another

he knew then and there that he had to have you

imagine Hongjoong's surprise when he picked up Yeosang and he threatened him that he'll remove the mental hospital from existence if you didn't come along

and he actually would, all you had to do was say the word

the leader sighed when all you did was smile at him, looks like Yeosang found someone to tether him down

the way Yeosang was looking at you as if you'd tell him to actually to burn the hospital was endearing and so Yeosang coded

8.5/10, just don't get in his way

SAN

The Assassin; the indestructible gladiator

if a job or task seems difficult, consider it done when it comes to San

the perfect machine, he will do everything and anything that is asked of him without questioning whether or not they're moral or ethical

he's very by-the-book and indifferent, his cruelty depends on who's asking and it ranges from tame to absolute destruction

extremely skilled at hiding his atrocities and never leaves behind any evidence

which is why he is Seonghwa's favourite member

because a psychopath following a psychopath always ends well for everybody

despite his rugged appearance, San is very quick-witted and very scheming, especially when he's about to get caught

second to Yeosang in making himself try to look normal in public

the only difference being that he is very hollow and he doesn't have a sense of entitlement in what he does

San is not interested in knowing why his tasks are the way they are nor why he has to do them while Yeosang only does them if he think there's some greater good in them

the sooner he does what is asked of him, the less headache he has

because he's perfectly aware that he's a tool for the mafia to use for their own benefit and he's perfectly fine with that

his platonic soulmate, Wooyoung, is trying to dissuade him from this line of thought, he's deeply saddened that that's how San thinks of himself

the tattoo on his thigh remind him of that everyday

he saw you for the first time when Seonghwa had instructed him to eliminate you because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time

at first it wasn't a problem so he kidnapped you in broad daylight

when San took the mask he had put on your face and took a closer look at you, his biggest problem started then and there

he had never seen someone so small, so pure, and so utterly scared of him

he couldn't do it, he couldn't eliminate you, especially not with his own hands, his heart wasn't letting him move at all

for the first time in his life, he felt the need to disobey

it was love at first sight, so after explaining to you honestly why he had to do it, you halfheartedly went into hiding in his house

he lied to Seonghwa that you were gone, and the older wasn't convinced, but regardless, he let it go for now

it was certainly a new arrangement for both of you, you were angry because you knew he put a hit on you

your greedy brother sold you to the mafia so before you changed your mind, you told San to do whatever he wanted with him

San smirked, for all the people he took orders from, yours was the one who made his heart sing

one day, Seonghwa visited San's house by surprise after a couple of months, he was shocked that you not only were you alive and well, but you were now playing house

so San does the most insane thing he could do, he proposed to you in front of a jaw-slacked Seonghwa

Seonghwa almost had an aneurysm when San came clean, mafia morals states that it's taboo to touch a member's partner

it wasn't difficult for you to say yes, you had come to love San for who he was although it was difficult at first

he was a gentle lover, and you didn't care what he was or what he's done, San's loving and caring personality made up for it

you two would stargaze on his roof as you both held hands, sometimes he would put a rom-com movie to make you happy, or he would plan a picnic just for the two of you

being engaged to San was the best decision of your life

you genuinely love the way he was, killing machine and all, but you couldn't help but fall in love with him more

especially with how attentive he was on your needs, especially adjusting to the mafia life

his kisses were definitely the sweetest

9/10, you'll be safe as long as someone doesn't put a price on your head

MINGI

The Politician; his silver tongue can make pigs fly

he has the ability to gain control in literally any situation because of the power he exudes

very charming and very dangerous because of his impeccable confidence towards himself

as charming as he is, he is mostly mad, intimidating and mad

smooth talker, he can get away with justifying his atrocities

he is a textbook diplomat, he can talk his way to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants, from whoever he wants

him and San made a deadly combination, one did whatever anyone wanted and the other can convince the enemy that being dead was good

Mingi's charisma is something to be trifled with, everybody wishes to shoot him but somehow find themselves compelled to not do so

highly intelligent and loves to manipulate people for fun to make himself appear more trustworthy, much like his childhood best friend, Yunho

in actuality, he is a heartless, psychopathic animal who would do anything to conform his sick-minded personality

when he's irritated, he'd violently force others into unfair deals sometimes for the mafia, sometimes because he's bored

expert extortionist, by the time the enemy realizes that they've been made to say and do whatever Mingi wanted, it's too late

there is no backing out because Mingi has no problem ending people who waste his time

he has no mercy, because unlike the other members, he eliminates swiftly, he doesn't care about playing games

his members, especially Seonghwa, Yunho, and Wooyoung, loved playing with their victims, Mingi did not

he also eliminates for absolutely no reason but for his entertainment and his intimidating aura helps him in this regard

as a person, Mingi is actually rather chill

San said that if he didn't know how deadly Mingi was, he would have killed him a long time ago with hoe annoyingly chill he was

"Look at this schmuck," San would scoff. "Doesn't even look like he can shoot a gun."

"Wanna find out?" Mingi shrugged. "Your muscles ain't shit."

and that's how he won against an angry San, who was blinded by his annoyance, when he smacked the gun out of San's hand

things like these always come easy to him, all he had to do was exploit their weakness and use it against them

and it was how he almost has you in the palm of his hand, all you had to do was surrender to him

he hadn't mean to see you, one day he was out with Yunho for coffee and when they were about to leave, you passed him and your scent was captivating

one thing that made his brows raise was that, yes, his manipulation worked on you, but something didn't sit well with him

you felt like the prettiest girl whenever Mingi would shower you with gifts and loads of attention

he was your type of guy - tall with jaws craved by God, body slim and hips begging to be held - he was a dreamboat in your eyes

sooner or later, what turned out to be curiosity on his end, transformed into an unhealthy obsession

you were his, whether you liked it or not, whether you knew it or not

and so you rejected him when he confessed his want for you, which absolutely shocked him, all you did was smirk, you had him where you wanted him

but it was your turn to be shocked when he smirked, all the obsession he showed, the attitude, the gazes, the confession, he had you where he wanted you

you couldn't help but laugh when you realized at how you manipulated each other, but Mingi was starstruck

you weren't complaining much, he had the most dominating hold on you, and if you escaped from him, you'd pay, because you can always run, but you never hide from him

10/10, do not approach

WOOYOUNG

The Hedonist; disorder and havoc are what makes him fully function

wholeheartedly believes that chaos is the only solution to peace

the most deranged out of everybody, his mania has no limit because unlike the others, his violence brings him pure pleasure

is the most headache-inducing member because of his impulsiveness and inconsistent cruelty, which makes him one of the most frightening members

he can be very cruel, and when he is, his methods are very, very slow and prolongs the agony of his victims until they beg him to just end them

sometimes they're so fast that his enemies don't know what hit them

- the master of prolonging his victims and playing with his food before devouring them

it all depends on his mood, but the point is, his unpredictability is what makes him very dangerous

he is highly capable of hurting everyone without hesitation due to his lack of restraint

however, what sets Wooyoung apart is his high impulse control, this means he can control himself on command

what makes him especially dangerous is that he is completely aware of what he's doing and he knows that consequences of his actions, he just doesn't care

in short, Wooyoung is absolutely crazy and not in his right mind

it was technically his fault why Yeosang was as unstable as he was, but he thought to himself, he was doing his friend a favour

"Have you ever regretted meeting me?" Wooyoung grinned.

"Every single day of my life," Yeosang scoffed.

sulking, he dragged San with him so they could get a tattoo together, later, he offed the tattoo artists for agreeing with him and not bothering to stop his decision

he was surprised that San didn't even protest, but that was his closest friend so he won't argue

when Yeosang was sent for damage control, the man just face palmed himself and left, deciding that he'd rather get punished by his leaders than involve himself in this mess that is Jung Wooyoung

but make no mistake, as demented and highly unstable as he is, he is Hongjoong and Seonghwa's right hand man and the members respect that

though they are close to ousting him and the members are very, very close on making a petition to demote him

brilliant planner, he plans his attacks in advance, as impulsive as he is, he always prefers tactical planning rather than facing his enemies face on

after all, his strategic mind was what led him to plan and steal you from your home

you were the enemies daughter, and Wooyoung's insanity knew no bounds because for all the things he had made plans for, your capture was the one that made his skin tingle and his blood run fast

but you can't change a leopard's spots, despite all his planning, Wooyoung ended up climbing your window at night so he can see you

you were half naked as you prepared for sleep, but you ended up screaming so loud when you saw a shadowy figure climb your roof

he quickly covered your mouth and you both his under the sheets when your father came in the room

you sheepishly told him that you saw a bug fly in from the window and got surprised, in the end, he bought the excuse and left

"Hello, princess," Wooyoung smirked as he traced your skin with his finger

you squirmed, you knew Wooyoung's fascination for you and at first it irked you, but only because both of you were in a Romeo and Juliet situation

you have always been attracted to him, and he knew it, but you couldn't do anything about it

months and months after that, he still kept pursuing you and it got so bad that he would purposefully pick a fight with your father just so he could have an excuse to see you

your father was livid, it wasn't really a secret how much of an absolute lunatic Wooyoung was in the mafia world

however, even he couldn't deny how intelligent Wooyoung was and how his operations were always a guaranteed success with no loose ends

Wooyoung being with you had more pros than cons and at the end of the day, your father was a businessman

when your father had requested a meeting with Ateez and proposed a merge, they had agreed after both sides presented their thoughts

your father hissed at Wooyoung to hold his horses when he tried to grab you

imagine everyone's surprise when Wooyoung said this merge would have happened anyway, because you were already four months pregnant

9.8/10, intelligence and insanity would bring the apocalypse

JONGHO

The Liar; the most complex out of them all

while everyone focuses on being out there in action and extracting what they need to know, Jongho preferred to be in the side lines

not that he didn't know how to be out there, rather, they don't want him in there

Jongho is extremely cruel, and what the other members are good at, he's twice as brutal

he's twice as sadistic as Seonghwa, the only difference is that he doesn't get pleasure in hurting, twice as deceptive as Yunho, though not as arrogant about it, and he's twice as manipulative as Mingi

a lot of their enemies always underestimated Jongho and it only made him smirk

he always looked calm, emotionless, and nonchalant most of the time, it's usually this time where Jongho strikes

an exceptionally clever and absolutely cunning criminal genius and is most similar to Mingi - he doesn't like to play with his victims

his bloodthirst has does not accept limit, it's to the point that fellow member, Yunho, once suggested that the mafia may not even be enough to satisfy his bloodthirsty ravaging

with all of that being said, Yunho had took it upon himself to pull Jongho out of the action

"Goddamn it, Jongho, so much blood," Yunho clicked his tongue in annoyance when he saw that the enemy was long gone. "What did you use?"

when he lifted up a frying pan, Yunho's mouth drops, how much force had it taken for Jongho to produce this much blood with that?!

instead, he became the interrogator, and he is in charge of extracting even the hardest information he can get

which is fine by him, he's sick of being told off by his leaders about his brutality anyway, he owes no one an explanation

Jongho doesn't like to get his hands dirty, most of the time he can manipulate someone or force even an entire group to give him what he wants without lifting a finger

so now, Jongho's content with sticking to the question, the physical and psychological t**t**ing was his members' forte

however, even some of the members fear him, it isn't like Seonghwa where it's fear out of respect

some enemies are hard nuts to crack, and this is when Jongho enters, they call their last resort

easily the most dangerous and spine-chilling member, he doesn't get involved in all the brutality now, but when he does, they're very vile

they're so vile and atrocious that Hongjoong had instructed that only the worst of the worst should be brought to Jongho

his best friend, Yeosang, tried to contest this verdict, but to no avail, even he knew how bad it can get with Jongho

of course, the higher the peak, the harder the fall, and in most cases on his end, it's pure, unadulterated rage

this is Jongho's biggest weakness as it causes him fatal flaws of mistakes that are very much crucial

like that one time you callously kicked him out of the local library

despite his ruthlessness, he actually loved reading and gaining knowledge on the most mundane of things

so when you started your new job there, of course, he took notice of you, how could he not?

you were something worth reading, you were an enigma that tempted him to read further on, but he stopped himself, he wasn't all evil - you were innocent, his life wasn't for you

you looked so sweet, he didn't want to corrupt you, but oh, did he want to so badly

his thoughts were interrupted with a phone call from Yeosang, and the next thing he knew, he was seething in anger outside

in your defense, you didn't mean to, you took notice of him too and you cheeks blushed all the time, you panicked and didn't mean to kick him out

you were going to pay for this, he thought, and so he had this brilliant plan of following you into your apartment

you were about to close the door when his foot stopped it and he squeezed his way in, you didn't even have time to be surprised, he left before he could do anything

"Dude, you're an idiot, that isn't how you pick up girls," Yeosang snickered in delight

"Rich coming from the guy that met his girl in the nut hut," he snapped

in the end, he did man up and apologized to you the next day, and to Jongho's surprise, you invited him to your place for coffee

you confessed that you had a bit of a crush on him, this straightforward attitude made his heart skip and he tried to dissuade the confession

but you surprised him more when you admitted that you knew what he was and what he does,

you were the daughter of a man who owed money to Ateez, and your father did end up paying all of it back, but Mingi wanted him gone anyway

Jongho decided to let him go since he did do his end of the bargain

it was absolutely wrong, you couldn't get him out of your head, and when you were about to forget him, he suddenly showed up at your new job

you eventually found out that his love was the most genuine

he wasn't the biggest fan of physical affection, but he did love showering you with it the best he could

he loved fixing your hair for you when it got windy, he loved patting your head and then leaning in to give you nose boops

the way he listened when you talked without making it about himself, it meant a lot to you

or when he would eat your favourite food with him even though the food you liked wasn't his cup of tea

or perhaps when he automatically removed food from your plate that he knew you hated

your favourite was when he would hold your hand under any table, or any hidden physical contact

10/10, extremely dangerous, do not approach at all costs

𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: please do not take this seriously. This is not a representation of the Ateez members in real life and this is not a go-signal for anybody to fulfill this type of fantasy. This is figment of this author's wild imagination to share with anyone and it shall stay that way.

𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜: @thecutestgrotto

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togglesbloggle · 1 year ago

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Voltaire's Prayer

“I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: Oh Lord, make my enemies ridiculous. And God granted it." -Volaire’s letter to Étienne Noël Damilaville, 16 May 1767

I’m inordinately fond of sex, in the political sense. It’s saved us so often from the worst parts of ourselves.

As far as anti-authoritarian elements of the human experience go, sex is right up there with curiosity and the search for truth- maybe even more so. When a new tyrant comes to town, shutting down the universities and the libraries is only the second thing they try. The first thing is to regulate human sexuality to within an inch of its life. Rules for marriage, rules for courtship, rules for which genitals may touch and where they may touch and when they may touch. Rules for who and rules for whom. Rules for which kinds of sex must doom characters in literature, rules for which things may be described as sexy, rules for which things may be described in a sexy way.

Of course they do! If you’re trying to bind a large polity together under a common ideological narrative, to render people predictable enough to quash dissent and legible enough to exert power through them, the last thing you need is a bunch of folks running around being horny about stuff without permission. Nature gifted us with a great capacity for reason and community; we have the innate opportunity to learn about ourselves and our neighbors, and to form complex societies based on that understanding. It was Aristotle who first called us the political animal, and the fruits of that extraordinary capacity will always be within our reach, if only we can come together within a shared understanding. The invention of the city is the great triumph of our species, and with it we conquer the universe.

But also this extraordinary, reasoning mind has been sculpted from the raw clay of a biology that’s anchored in sexual reproduction, and this ends up being very, very funny.

The problem isn’t so much that the sex instinct exists, per se. It’s how it’s implemented. Like most biological forms, the full complement of 86 billion(!) neurons in your brain aren’t encoded in a particular configuration; the brain is much too complex to be described so precisely in the only ~725 megabytes or so of human DNA. The particular shape of your brain is in there somewhere- the lobes and subregions responsible for vision, memory, cognition, all that- but only up to a point. The genius and fundamental limitation of genetics is that, below a certain level, the genes instead describe a process for the production and reproduction of specialized cells, and simply constructs them in such a way that they can be relied upon to order themselves as they go.

This is all well and good when we’re talking about kidneys and livers, but the fact that you can encode any kind of specific behavioral instinct in a brain this way is nothing short of a minor miracle. Think about it! Spiders don’t have a ‘spider web’ gene, the gene is for ‘proteins that come together in self-assembling electrochemically sensitive gelatin tissue which, when complete, encodes patterns that operate organ systems such as legs and spinnerets in such a way as to reliably create silk webs.’ This is absurdly impressive, and also completely insane.

What I’m getting at is, powerful behavioral instincts in a complex animal aren’t precise instruction manuals by which we pursue evolutionarily advantageous behaviors. Sex and eros are prior to logic or language, let alone strategy. Sex is a double-thick electrical wire discharging lightning bolts right through the middle of our cognitive centers, installed in the brain by a surgeon wearing mittens. It’s an untethered firehose whipping chaotically through the cathedral, unpredictably spraying golden reliquaries with substances unmentionable. It’s the first and greatest anarchist.

I really can’t overstate my gratitude for this.

Obviously this results in any number of deeply goofy outcomes by way of kinks and odd sexual practices- it gets tangled with pain centers, with random bits of anatomy and proprioception, with our taboos and aversions, with our greatest terrors or our greatest yearnings or just arbitrary stimuli from adolescence, and of course it gets enmeshed so often with our notions of power and submission. It imbues these things with a fascination and potency out of all proportion with their mundane meanings. And ultimately, you end up with human pleasures and human values that diverge so far from banal evolutionary imperatives as to be all but unrecognizable.

Even when this process somehow manages to propagate through the brain in such a way as to drive behaviors that are legibly aligned towards some adaptive constraint- e.g. heterosexual mating practices resulting in biological reproduction and careful childrearing- it’s still madness. Love and sex penetrate deeply across tribal and national and racial boundaries, across economic interests, across battle-lines and enmities. We become traitors, apostates, emigrants, and artists. Declare a law, and in short order some hot-headed young people come along to break it in the name of sexual passions you could not possibly have seen coming. Divide your neighborhood into us and them, and by the time the ink is dry on your proclamation there will be a forbidden relationship across the fence. There is no social order, no ethical system, no theory of human nature that can entirely withstand contact with the full spectrum of human sexuality, because sex and eros are always going to be exactly as bonkers as the complexity of the human mind and culture will allow, plus a little extra just to be sure.

This isn’t always a delight, of course. Many prohibitions exist for a very good reason, and the chaos of human sexuality makes no exemptions for true evil. Some of us end up really, truly victims of this process. But for all the dangers, the chaos at the root of all this isn’t oriented towards evil. Chaos just means chaos, essentially arbitrary and hence absurd in character.

And in the grand analysis, we are so lucky to have this thing moving through our communities, this ridiculous madness that guarantees that there will be cracks in every wall and slips exploding cigars in the pockets of the powerful few. Not in everybody as individuals, of course, and not everybody the same amount; asexuality is certainly one of the outcomes that all this mad gallivanting through our brains can produce. Sexuality would never be so predictable as to guarantee its own existence, after all. That’s part of what makes the joke so funny.

But all of us, regardless of sexuality, get to live in a world where the grand anarchy of sex is constantly driving home this lesson that no category is inviolate and no law is perfect. That we should not and cannot take ourselves too seriously, or forget that we’re animals. That we don’t exist only for the sake of others, or within their understanding. That cities are made of cooperation, grace, and forbearance- not conformity or mere compliance.

People sometimes worry about immortality. In the political sense, I mean. They worry about eternal dictatorships and unconquerable gerontocracies. This fear isn’t entirely unjustified; death has often played a role in progress and liberation. But as long as enough of us are still getting horny without permission, still falling in love in stupid ways, I think we’ll be okay. Romeo and Juliet don’t have to die at the end to make a difference in the world, as long as they’re brave enough to get weird with it.

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kyri45 · 8 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 7/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: AWIUSBSWDN I LOVE your art especially your LMK comic! Wanted to ask if you've seen that one fan art on twitter from @/Jay_chaos_art on twitter (or X) That is the part where little MK is holding Macaque's finger AAAA that scene is too cute! Also poor MK :']

Awww I saw that! It's sooooo good!!! For anyone wanting to see it, check it out HERE!

Anonimo ha chiesto: ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡᴘᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ᴀᴜ ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏ ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇsᴜɴ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ? ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪᴛ's ᴀ sᴏɴɢ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜᴛᴜʙᴇ.ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ!

Aw thanks for the song rec!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: If I remember correctly macaque can hear people thoughts so I just imagine mk having thoughts about ✨courtnapping✨ and macaque just hears it

Macaque is just

Anonimo ha chiesto Mei if she knew what was going on inside MK’s head. Mei: it’s called being a “Furry” MK it’s the biggest plus to have in a world filled with anthropomorphic animal Yaoguai. That and the awesome magic stuffs.

me too Mei, the fuck

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo that time when shadowpeach were at pigzi's and saw tang with the "bite mark"🌝 Did they realise what was goinn on?? Will they like ask mk or smt about it? *I can imagine the shock on their faces*

They don't know if either to be shocked or not since they called it

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I love and hunger for Spicynoodles! 🍜🔥 What if during demon courting season, Pif decides that even though her son is strong she doesn't want to risk her son to end up court napped by some demon stranger that he doesn't even like. She wants him to be happy. So, she goes to MK and tells him about Red Son's feeling for him and convinces him to courtnap Red Son.

asjcajcb can't answer yet bc of spoilers!!

@stardynamite ha chiesto: I was desperately searching for another good fandom fanfic to latch onto here because I can’t draw fanart at the moment and you have saved me for my eternal searching with your lmk au, thank you sire🫡 I am forever indebted to you for thouesth servicesth

Aw thank youu!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: What would a demon do with the other person after they courtnapped them? Like is it just a forced date?

Nah I mean, If they refuse the courtnapping the captors has to release them otherwise they would just look like an asshole. If they agree then it's more of a surprise date.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Other demons who have tried to cournap wukong seeing Macaque do it with ease: HOW THE FUCK DID HE NOT DIE

He has the advantages that Wukong is a Simp

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: AWWWWWW!!! I LOVE THESE MONKIESSS! I just imagine Mk and Mac training with shadows, and Mk decided one day to practice his shadows by trying to tickle WuKong!

betrayed by his own son

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau ha chiesto: Is Macaque going to have to re-courtnap Wukong because they broke up before? Or would Wukong Courtnap Macaque after all this. Or are they just gonna skip the courtnapping part since they already did it in the past?

depends if we go by the headcanon that courtnapping=marriage

@elixcv ha chiesto: HI! first of all, I just wanna say that I LOVEEEEEEE you bio parent AU, it simply scratches something in my brain. I wish you all the good things in the world(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ Now, in second place, I have 2 questions (and dw, if it's smth u don't/can't answer i don't mind, i just wanna say it, i guess?): 1. In your AU, pigsy is some kind of lower/not-so-strong demon? And, if he is, did he also Courtnapping Tang in his own way? 2. Can the courtnapping go both ways? Like, it just can happen one time per couple, or is a requirement that u have to courtnapping the other person back to show ur feelings? Bc, I can see a MK Courtnapping RS, and then RS trying to Courtnapping back, and in my head is like they're playing around the city in a complicated game of tag, or a hide n' seek. This can also apply to swk and macaque. I appreciate your thoughts about anything of this, even if I'm wrong in every way. I'm so excited about this AU and really love the way you write/draw it (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤ (sorry for the bad English, I know to read/hear but the grammatical is always a pain in my ass ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

Yes, he's a lower demon, but in the end, it was Tang who did the courtnapping bc he thought that Pigsy wouldn't date him if he didn't court him the demon way, while Pigsy was planning on courting him the human way.

Yes. I think courtnapping can go both way but it's not a must or expected to.

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I was reading your last post about MK and his mortality and I was wondering, if MK was on the verge of dying and there was no other way to save him would Monkey King give him a Peach of Immortality? Would MK be upset about it? Also sorry if this question is too angsty 😅 Anonimo ha chiesto: Isn't redson immortal due to being half celestial or fallen celestial idk? Wouldn't he try to convince mk to take it if they get together? @purpleprinceblood ha chiesto: I think Wukong desperately wants Mk to be immortal but also knows that a) Mk would hate it and b) Wukong would too Like, dude has severe depression from his immortality and his friends leaving him, I think he would hate to watch Mk deal with that I could see Wukong offering Mk a life span growing thing, like in jttw iirc the peaches add like 500 years to your life span, Wukong just eats so many of them that they make him immortal, so I could see him offering it as a "I'm scared to lose you but also don't want you suffering like I do" @sakurablossoms-world ha chiesto: Wouldn’t MK technically be long-living since he’s the child of two powerful entities, I mean Redson is 500 and he’s considered to be in his early 20’s by mortal comparison, so wouldn’t it be expected that he’d outlive everyone (Redson and maybe Mei being an exception)? So while he would still value his mortality, immortality wouldn’t really make that big a difference in hindsight. Then again I could be mistaken.

I think MK wouldn't like to become immortal against his choice regardless. Yes, in S1 we see he wanted to become one, but I think he still was in that phase were he just wanted to be/do everything like his hero. And that included eating a peach of immortality. I don't think he ever thought of the implication of being immortal

@yainmy ha chiesto: If Mk has been developing more of Macaques powers does that mean he can develope shadow clones like Rumble and Savage? Or will it be a chaotic nightmare like that one clones episode in the series?

He can only control one shadow clone: his own shadow!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello, I'm too nervous to send this non-anonymously, but I was wondering if I could take inspo from your ShadowPeach Bio parents AU for my own AU called Twins Of The Cycle? It's an AU with my oc, I basically just gave MK a twin.

Nope. If you want to ask for permission, you need to ask me not in anounymous.

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Random but I find it so silly to imagine Wukong doesn't have the courtnapping instinct bc he's just a stone monkey (made up of pieces of heaven itself + the earth bc...stone), so the times he blushes over Mac are just him imagining cute innocent stuff like wanting to hold Macaque super close and cuddly. Also funnier thing, I was playing with the idea of shape-shifting being gender-limited for most beings/demons and Wukong's ability to shape-shift into women being wukong being an iconic monkey again so your latest update is a very fun surprise ! Yippee!!!

waitwaitwait I got it-

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can they monkeys purr like kittens?? It will be SOO CUTE if they can!!!✨

Maybe???

Anonimo ha chiesto: was Macaque ever more reckless than Wukong ? Maybe in their youth 🤔

Oh definetely

Anonimo ha chiesto: did the Brotherhood in your AU know about Wukong being trans or Macaque courtnapping Wukong? did one of them try to courtnap someone, including our fav monkey boys? 👀👀👀

Yes, the brotherhood knew

@blossomhill36353 ha chiesto: AAAAAAAHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOOD!!! I love u and your shadowpeach AU with all of my heart u know that!!!!❤️❤️❤️ I have a question tho!! Soo about the glamour thing are they can teach MK how to use one? And since mac has already shown without glamour Infront of MK will Wukong do the same as well??

Yes MK knows the basic of glamours. as for your second question, who knows....

@cutvdo ha chiesto: How oblivious / dense do you think Redson is? like would he notices when MK is blushing?

I'll tell you that, in the last comic, he actually did (the crowd goes in a standing ovation for the idiots of the century)

Anonimo ha chiesto: sooooo a lot of ppl like having Macaque having white hair/fur bc BUT does Wukong have any that he’s ashamed to admit?? 👀👀👀👀

he has but they are only stress related

Anonimo ha chiesto: I like how the shadow tickle courtnapping implies that Macaque could've gained the upper hand during any of their fights in the series, but he chose not to because the feelings associated with it were still raw.

Ah. Ok. Well, thank you but now I gotta stay in the corner and cry after this information

Anonimo ha chiesto: If Wukong and Macaque had been around for school who would the school prefer come if they called home Macaque or Wukong. I feel like Wukong because macaque would be overprotective.

They are the meme where MK got into a fight and they come in a hurry just to ask him if he won

Anonimo ha chiesto: I want someone to call either Macaque and Wukong old, and they get super mad and try to say they aren't old but they are

they are. they are very old.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque ever had to deal with Wukong having a period?? Does Wukong even have any if he shape-shifts?? Sorry if this feels inappropriate. Anonimo ha chiesto: WAIT, DOES WUKONG BEING TRANS MEAN MACAQUE HAD/HAS TO DEAL WITH HIS PERIODS?!?!.! ANCHHDMSBJFMDBCMDN 😂

Yup, he still has the normal period symptoms and Mac had to stay with him all the time

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who would ask "would you still love me if I was a worm"

Wukong. And he would do it while shapeshifting as a worm

Anonimo ha chiesto: If they where like super angry at someone or something would Wukong & Macaque hiss (not sure what you would call the noise but, full on fangs out.)

I think yeah.

autism-autobot ha chiesto: Are we ever going to see the pilgrims in the shadowpeach bio parents au?

Nope

k4izershasfreakycanon ha chiesto: Hello,so if you dont remember me i was the one who made a custom outfit for mk! i only have the front rendered and coloref so i just wanted to say that you're always allowed to use it in comics! just please credit me:)

Thank you! But I made already his outfit way prior your own post so I already planned to using my original design.

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

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yuyu1024 · 1 year ago

Text

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93 @goodbyetwenty @baechugff

@amyz78 @qeen123 @armystay89 @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0 @eli-deville

#yuyu1024 #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #mafia yoongi #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop au #mafia au

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yallthemwitches · 1 month ago

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What are your 🔞 Jily HCs ?

*Cracks knuckles* Strap in babes!

—I’ve gone back and forth but I’ve landed on Lily having more experience than James before they got together. James being a pureblood, it would make sense that there’s more of a ‘conservative’ idea around saving sex for marriage (not that he subscribes to it, but thats just the WW mentality). He’s fooled around, sure, but he always felt very reverent about “giving it away” so to speak so he ended up waiting until Lily (in which he had no issue whatsoever losing his virginity before marriage.) Also, he was too busy faffing around with the marauders and it was hard to have a gf get close without divulging all their secrets.

Lily on the other hand was much more used to the “swinging 60s” era of things. She came from a lower class home and probably was indoctrinated fast into the sexually explorative teenage life of 1970s UK. I also strongly head canon her having a Bad Time (proper noun) summer between 5th and 6th due to the falling out with Sev and probably made some poor decisions because to it. I imagine she probably got close/went all the way with one or two guys before James.

—For their first time, Lily was on top (because she had experience). James came in like 10 seconds and was honestly shocked he made it that long. He rebounded quick enough to redeem himself.

—Another thing I go back and forth on is if James is a yapper in bed. While all signs would point to yes, I think its adorable to think that it’s the one time he’s actually pretty quiet mostly because he is going down on Lily. I think the only time he’s really saying something more than the generic swear/ exclamation is when he’s getting Lily to cum because he likes to coax it out of her.

—Related: James LOVES when Lily talks during sex. He loves it when she bosses him around. He loves it when she talks dirty. He loves it when she gets angry because he’s edging her a bit too much and she wishes he’d just bloody fuck her already.

—It goes without saying: James is a munch. Certified pussy eater. Can’t get enough of it—which is rare for the 70s! He’s maybe too into it, but Lily doesn’t mind much ;)

—James had a habit of keeping any hickies/marks Lily left on him and found them a point of pride. I think jily would have been pretty possessive so any excuse to show proof that THE Lily Evans had touched him would have made him immensely happy. This caused endless stirs amongst the boys in the locker rooms.

—I think they were as kinky and adventurous as two 17-21 year old’s could have been in a castle full of people and then later during a war. I’m sure they tried things like light bondage, anal, role playing…you know small stuff that couples often pull out to spice things up. I don’t think they would be like dungeon bdsm people, though—James would refuse to do anything that actually hurt or degraded Lily.

—OK. So, like. I don’t think jilypad necessarily HAPPENED buuuut. I’m sure there was a…thing that everyone agreed on. Like a “ok, so all of us are fit and best friends—so if we all get a little tipsey and a little cuddly on accident one night its fine, right?” I’m sure it came up once or twice in paired off conversations between jily or lilypad or prongsfoot in which they were all like: “would we? If we are speaking hypothetically? Would we all be down to sleep together?”

—I wouldn’t call it a breeding kink per se but I do think jily were realllly bad about pulling out (aka she’d ask him to cum inside her basically every time there was penetrative sex…oops!) This is why birth control potions/spells were important…until they forgot.

—James had a mental list of every place in Hogwarts they fucked and claimed he was trying “to shag in every secret passage they could find” in which Lily would roll her eyes but was definitely not complaining.

—James fingered her once in the Great Hall during a meal. No one knows how he pulled it off. He doesn’t know how he pulled it off.

—At their worst, they probably fucked in some capacity 1-2 times a day (or more… depending on their schedules lol) It was incorrigible for those around them.

—Jily are mad cuddlers. Aftercare? They’re pros.

—During Order era it was a capital P Problem for jily to do missions together. They would both constantly try to martyr the other and then both get incredibly turned on by the other’s act of selflessness/hot dueling skills. Every mission (regardless if someone else was with them) usually ended in a very heated shag and people started to complain about having to do missions with them.

I have LOADS more but I’ll save them since this has already gotten out of hand. Thanks for asking! I loooove talking about jily’s sex life!

#Jily #jily smut #in which I ramble about the sex lives of fictional characters with GLEE #Tay speaks #james potter #lily evans #i guess jilypad?

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bambi-kinos · 3 months ago

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From Yulia-k ask. I'm adding a follow up question. I agree with your respond. Why is Paul basically saying that JOHN found Yoko, and JOHN was madly in love with Yoko and he, Paul had to make way for her, and John-Paul couldn't continue as it was. It just sounds like something is missing in his own choice in this, like the India theory, or that Paul rejected John. It more sounds to me in every shape and form that Paul lost John because he found Yoko. "Then came the lawyers" etc. From Paul's pov. Why was Paul finding Linda a bigger problem to Paul? Paul must have known how John was gonna react to that after all his jealousy from the past.

I actually have an earlier meta regarding this that you would find interesting! I'll also insert it into my queue.

To add on to what we said a few years ago, I think Paul gave up on the relationship and couldn't think of a way to save it, while still trying to cling to it. The description of the "I want a divorce" meeting has Paul flinging out options to John about what The Beatles could do next, so stuff like another tour, doing another movie (presumably a proper one and not another documentary.) Paul knew that it was done and over but he couldn't bring himself to make that break. In a way he forced John to end it because he didn't want to do it himself. Hence why Paul made the point a few times that John initiated the divorce first and Paul simply announced it to the media.

I don't think meeting Linda was necessarily a problem per se. It seems more like Paul sees her as a natural consequence of John deciding to go off with Yoko. It's important to remember that Yoko had been stalking John and following him, sending him used tampons, running into his car to sit between him and Cynthia, spamming him with phone calls to the point that John had to change Kenwood's landline number at least once, etc. She was a known problem and had a long history of harassment and stalking. Paul has more insight into her and John and I think he understood to a degree that her persistence was what John found attractive.

John decided to start going off with her in an official way and "accidentally" let Cynthia find him and Yoko eating breakfast together while Yoko wore Cynthia's bathrobe. Then John started divorce proceedings and Cynthia remarked in her book "John" that Paul was the only person in the media machine that had the balls to drive over to her house and comfort her. George, Ringo, Mal, George Martin everyone, was too scared of John to go see her and say "John is being a big piece of shit, I'm sorry." Meanwhile Paul took her a rose, bluntly told her that John was acting completely fucking nuts, and that he wished her well. He even made her a joking offer of marriage though I do wonder what would have happened if Cynthia had taken it. Julian would have grown up with a responsible male figure in his life at least.

So that happened either before or in the aftermath of the New York City trip, I can't remember the timeline properly. But all of that tension was floating in the background when John and Paul went to New York to promote Apple and that's when Paul invited Linda into his limo with him and John and in John's words "next thing I know she's married to him."

So to me it looks like Linda was Paul's solution to a specific problem: John using Yoko as a tool in his ongoing war on Paul and against the lotus eating machine that is The Beatles media conglomerate. John was addicted to heroin, starving himself because his eating disorder had totally distorted his body image, and then he latched on to Yoko because she encouraged his deluded fantasies about being a guru or a messiah hence the pharmacological delusion that was "Two Virgins" and the fantasy about being reborn as a 20th century Adam and Eve.

Paul knew that John was unstable and he simply stopped trusting him. He did not see a viable future with John due to John's drug abuse, years of inconsistent behavior, and then Brian dying the awful way he did. It was all going down the drain and Paul was freaking the hell out, hence he went on a spree of asking his girlfriends if they would marry him. They all said no except for Linda. John's jealousy simply stopped being a factor for Paul. John is jealous? So what? He's been jealous before, it didn't stop him from bullying Paul over LSD, it didn't stop him from running off to Barcelona, it didn't stop him from dating his stalker and bringing her to their recording sessions, it didn't stop him from abandoning his son. And then add on to that the fact that Paul's biological clock was going off: he wanted children of his own and with Brian dead there was no longer a visible path forward for two bisexual men to have a family together. Not in 1968. And Paul wasn't growing a set of ovaries and a uterus anytime soon so he couldn't make his own.

Whatever dreams Paul had of him and John going off on their own as Lennon-McCartney, whatever that looked like, burned to ashes. Paul woke up from their shared dream of a future together and he found a stable woman with a clear head who wasn't impressed by his Beatle status and was adventurous enough to marry a guy she had known for less than a year.

For Paul, who values stability and wanted to make a good home for his future children, the choice was clear. There was no path forward for him and John, not anymore, and John seemed completely uninterested anyway. Paul's insistence that John left him first is extremely important, not just because of the details of the divorce meeting, but because in 1968 Paul was coming to grips with the reality of the situation. That John did not love him anymore and didn't want to be with him anymore and instead wanted to humiliate him and degrade him instead out of some sort of hidden injury that we can only guess at.

As far as Paul was concerned John abandoned him first and didn't try to work it out. John actively cut himself out of their picture. Paul wanted children and didn't want someone with John's stability problems in their lives. He met Linda, took a deep breath, and jumped.

#mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #linda eastman #yoko ono #the beatles #post break up #beatles meta #my meta #talktalktalk #anonymous asks

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 2 years ago

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Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

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