#for exactly this sort of testing purposes
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wisecura · 1 day ago
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megumi fushiguro x fem-reader
p.1
p.2  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.3
p.2
AN: Thank you for reading part 2! Again each of these will be around 3k in length. Enjoy!
warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go
-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.
Another
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Cleaning had always been second nature to you, a skill drilled into you by your clan as a symbol of discipline and control.
The ways of a proper young lady.
Back then, it had been another way to meet their rigid standards, but now, in Toji’s apartment, it served a different purpose. You weren’t trying to meet anyone’s expectations. It felt more like you were creating a space that felt livable, even comforting. As you scrubbed and tidied, echoes of your clan’s demands lingered in your mind.
Megumi stayed holed up in his room, avoiding you, though you suspected it wasn’t out of rudeness. Maybe he was still figuring you out, testing the waters before deciding how to interact. You couldn't blame him. This was all new and strange for both of you.
As you scrubbed the counters and sorted through laundry, you tried to keep yourself busy, hoping to quiet the restless hum of your thoughts. The spiraling.
But the silence of the apartment only amplified them, leaving you with little to do but reflect.
You thought long and hard about your next move—about what you wanted to do and what you were willing to endure. You hadn’t expected to make it this far, away from the suffocating grip of your clan, away from the ways they’d meticulously instilled into you. This already felt like a step up. 
No one was yelling. No one was crying. And most importantly, no one was punishing you for merely existing. And for once, you could breathe. 
But could you settle here? Could you turn this into a real home? The thought carried a weight you hadn’t anticipated, especially when you considered who you were married to.
Toji Fushiguro.
The infamous thirty-something gambler whose reputation preceded him. His name carried weight—none of it good. You’d only heard whispers about him before, rumors about the "Sorcerer Killer" who couldn’t see curses but had carved a place for himself in a world that didn’t want him. The name he was making for himself wasn’t the kind anyone would aspire to have. And now, he was your husband. Could he truly be better than what you’d left behind?
Marriage had never been a simple thing for people like you. It was a transaction, a tool for power and alliances, not a partnership. You'd settled your thoughts with that. But you couldn’t be sure what kind of man Toji would turn out to be. So far, he was an enigma—evasive, blunt, and not exactly brimming with warmth.
When you first met Toji, you’d been terrified.
His voice, gruff and laced with irritation, felt like a warning in itself, and his towering, muscular frame only added to the daunting image. You hadn’t known what to expect from him—your mind raced with possibilities. Many clan marriages ended in misery. Beaten wives, suffocating restrictions, and vows that served only to bind. The unknown had loomed large that day.
You’d been genuinely shocked when Toji had even shown up to the meeting. After all, he already had a history—a wife before you, a notorious rebellious streak, and a reputation soaked in blood. What had happened to her? The question lingered in your mind, twisting your thoughts into a frantic swirl as you tried to piece together what kind of man he was and what exactly you might be walking into. Not that you had much of a choice.
To your relief, he left shortly after the meeting, without forcing himself on you or issuing a set of suffocating rules. But even without his demands, you already knew your place. How could you not? The weight of the clan’s expectations had been drilled into you for as long as you could remember.
Still, the questions remained.
Could you trust him? Could he truly protect you from the very people who had pushed you into this marriage? Or would he become like the others you’d seen—the cruel, controlling men who treated their wives as tools, not partners? For now, all you could do was wait and hope.
If things got sticky, you could run. But the thought terrified you. Your clan wasn’t known for letting their investments go so easily.  They had their motives, their expectations for you, and you knew better than to think they’d let you walk away unscathed. The marriage was a tool to them, a means to an end, and the moment you stopped being useful, they wouldn’t hesitate to dissolve it.
The questions would start soon if you didn’t make an appearance at the estate for a ‘visit.’ You’d have to come up with something to keep them satisfied, a way to buy yourself more time. But would it be enough? You weren’t about to stoop to spying, but maybe if you offered them the bare minimum, it could hold them off. Still, you knew the risk. The moment they decided you weren’t fulfilling your purpose, they’d drag you back.
Back to the suffocating walls of their estate. Back to the life you’d fought so hard to escape. Back to another arranged marriage—this time, likely to someone far worse. Someone who wouldn’t tolerate even a shred of independence. The thought was unbearable, and yet, the fear of that possibility clung to you like a shadow, refusing to let go.
You had no illusions about what they were capable of. They’d find you. They’d make an example of you. You’d seen it happen before—to women who had dared to defy their place, who had tried to escape. The consequences were always swift, brutal, and served as a warning to others.
The only thing keeping you from that fate was this house.
Toji.
For all his flaws, for all the uncertainty that surrounded him, Toji was the barrier between you and the life you so desperately wanted to escape. The clan couldn’t touch you here—not while you were under his roof. His name and infamous reputation were enough to keep them at bay for now. But what about when he left the clan for good? You’d heard it whispered countless times—how he’d distanced himself, how he was already one step out the door.
So why had he even agreed to this marriage? It didn’t serve him. If anything, it seemed like another chain, another tie he’d likely resent. What had convinced him to take on a responsibility that did him no favors?
The thought nagged at you as you clung to the fragile sense of safety he unknowingly provided. As much as you despised the precariousness of your situation, you couldn’t ignore that he was the only thing keeping the clan’s shadow from falling over you entirely.
For now, you had to play the game carefully. Toji was unpredictable, but at least he wasn’t actively cruel. You’d take your chances with him over returning to the hell you’d left behind.
Still, he hadn’t returned, yet. When would he come home?  Sure it'd only been a day, but...
Would he even explain what this arrangement meant for you both, or just leave you to figure it out on your own? Would he have a list of rules like your clan house? Would you have expectations to sleep with him? You let out a sigh, feeling the weight of uncertainty press heavier on your shoulders. The hours were dragging. 
When lunchtime rolled around, you prepared food for both yourself and Megumi. Doubling the portions, you were glad he was starting to warm up to you, even if only slightly. Knocking softly on his door, you waited for a moment before it creaked open.
Megumi stood there, his expression unreadable as usual, but he took the plate with a small nod. “Thanks,” he muttered before retreating back into his room, the door closing firmly behind him.
So, you ate alone.
It wasn’t the solitude that stung the most—it was the familiarity of it. Sitting at the quiet table, your thoughts drifted to the countless meals you’d eaten alone back at the clan house. Sure this home was better than your previous, yet the echoes of those days crept back in, uninvited, and settled heavily in your chest. You’d thought leaving that life behind would make things different, that here, in this little apartment, you could find something resembling peace.
But for now, the silence was deafening.
You reminded yourself to remember that this was better and you needed to be patient. Megumi wasn’t cruel or rude—just guarded. He was still so young, still figuring out his place in all of this. And maybe, you thought, you needed to adjust to him just as much as he needed to adjust to you.
So, you cleared your plate, brushed off the dull ache settling in your chest, and told yourself that this was temporary. It was just a matter of time.
Later in the day, you decided to step out for groceries. The apartment was practically empty, the fridge holding little more than condiments and a few questionable leftovers. You couldn’t fathom how Toji and Megumi had been surviving off such meager scraps.  You’d noticed the state of things your first day there, picking up a few essentials just to scrape by. But today, you decided it was time to stock up properly.
Standing by the front door, you hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Megumi’s room. A small part of you debated whether to ask him to come along. It might have been nice to have the company, and perhaps the outing could bridge some of the growing gap between you. But you quickly pushed the thought aside.
He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his responsibility. It was yours. You were the one trying to build a home here, the one who had stepped into this precarious role.
With a quiet sigh, you grabbed your shopping list and headed out the door. It wasn’t a long walk to the nearby market, but as you made your way down the street, a faint unease crept over you. You couldn’t help but think back to your clan and their constant monitoring.
By the time you returned, your arms were weighed down with bags. Maybe you’d gotten carried away, but everything seemed so necessary. Stumbling through the front door, you dumped the bags onto the counter with a relieved sigh.
Megumi peeked out from the doorway, alerted by the sound. “You’re back?”
“Yeah,” you said, turning slightly to smile at him, still catching your breath. “Got some food for tonight.”
He frowned, his gaze shifting to the hefty bags on the counter.
“Didja walk all this back yourself?”
“Mhmm,” you replied with a small hum, stretching your back before reaching to start putting things away.
Before you could even grab the first item, Megumi stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he gently nudged you aside. “Go rest. I’ll put it ‘way,” he muttered, his voice low and rough around the edges, but without any real bite.
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, but decided not to argue. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen table, watching him move around the room. His movements were deliberate and efficient as he pulled items from the bags. He inspected each one carefully, as though weighing its importance before putting it into its proper place.
For a moment, you forgot the weight of everything else and simply watched. Megumi, for all his prickliness, had his own way of showing appreciation—even if he didn’t say it out loud. It was hard not to notice how much care he put into something so simple. He still reminded you of a grumpy old cat—aloof, guarded, but with moments of surprising thoughtfulness. There was something endearing about it, about him. A small giggle escaping you as the thought crossed your mind.
Megumi glanced over his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone flat, though the faint red at the tips of his ears betrayed his irritation.
“Nothing,” you replied with a light chuckle, a small smile playing on your lips. “Just thinking about how teenagers can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“Stubborn?” he repeated, his tone edged with skepticism. “I’m not stubborn. You’re acting like I’m some little kid or something.”
The amused smile tugging at your lips only grew as you tilted your head at him. “Well, aren’t you? Just a little bit, maybe?”
His scowl deepened, and the flush on his cheeks darkened, the faint hint of embarrassment making him look even more endearing. “I’m not a kid. I’m almost fourteen,” he muttered, his voice firm, though it teetered dangerously close to a pout.
You chuckled, unable to resist teasing him just a bit more. He was too cute when he got ruffled. “Fourteen, huh? Practically a grown-up. My bad.”
Megumi’s gaze darted away briefly before snapping back to you, his tone quieter but still holding a note of defiance. “You’re not that much older than me. You’re what? Sixteen?”
His words startled a laugh out of you, and you shook your head, unable to hide your amusement. “Sixteen? Try eighteen, Megumi. I’m officially an adult, thank you very much.”
His eyes widened slightly at the revelation before narrowing again, as if processing the information. “Eighteen?” he muttered under his breath, his skepticism clear. “You don’t look eighteen.”
Feigning offense, you straightened your posture. “Well, I am,” you said with mock indignation. “And as the adult here, I think I get to call you a kid.”
Megumi huffed, crossing his arms as the faint pink tint spread to his ears. “You don’t act like an adult,” he mumbled, quieter this time. “You’re more like a bossy older sister.”
That made you grin even wider. Was that supposed to be an insult? Because it only made him sound more adorable. “Bossy older sister, huh? I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He avoided your gaze, pretending to focus on folding one of the empty grocery bags. “Take it however you want,” he muttered, his tone clipped, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.
“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said playfully. “But I’m still older than you, and that makes you the kid, like it or not.”
Megumi frowned but didn’t argue further. Instead, he busied himself with the counter, his lips pressed into a firm line. “I’m not a kid,” he mumbled again, though the conviction in his voice had softened.
You raised your hands in mock surrender, your tone kind and teasing. “Alright, alright. You’re not a kid. You’re a very mature almost-fourteen-year-old. Better?”
He didn’t respond right away, but the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gave him away. Turning his attention back to the counter, he muttered, “Whatever,” though the twitch at the corner of his mouth told you he wasn’t entirely annoyed.
You leaned back in your chair, watching him with a mix of fondness and curiosity. Megumi had a way of endearing himself without even realizing it. His insistence on not being treated like a kid, the way he tried to act older than he was—it was all so very… Megumi-esque. And you hadn't even know the kid for long. Not even a day.
“You know,” you said gently, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to rush to grow up so fast. Fourteen—or almost fourteen—is a good age to just… be.”
Megumi glanced at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if to challenge your words, but there was no real bite in his expression. “I’m not rushing anything,” he said after a pause, his tone quieter, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to be treated like some helpless kid.”
Now that got your attention. You tilted your head, your smile softening. “I don’t think you’re helpless, Megumi. Not at all. I just think it’s okay to let people care about you sometimes. It doesn’t make you less grown-up.”
He didn’t reply, his gaze flickering back to the counter, but you could see the wheels turning in his head. And then there was the way he lingered. The groceries were already put away, yet he didn’t leave. He didn’t know why he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it. But his actions spoke louder than words ever could: maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind you being there after all. Psycho-ex of his dads or otherwise.
While making dinner, Megumi hovered close to your elbows, his dark eyes following your every movement with quiet intensity. He didn’t say a word, but his focus was unwavering, soaking in every detail. Your cooking so far had been phenomenal. Enough to make the kid jealous. He wanted to learn, that much was clear—wanted to memorize the steps, the measurements, the little techniques you used. You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just curiosity. 
His silence didn’t bother you. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to chatter away, filling the room with a one-sided conversation that you hoped wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You explained every step meticulously, breaking it down like a cooking show. Megumi didn’t interrupt or huff at you. Instead, he absorbed it all like a sponge, his head tilting slightly when you mentioned something new.
“Toji must not be much of a cook,” you remarked at one point, glancing at him with a teasing smile. His lips twitched upward for the briefest moment, a ghost of a smile that made your chest tighten with warmth. Even when you explained the most basic things, like how to dice an onion properly, Megumi listened as though it were the most important lecture of his life.
The thought made you pause for a moment. It made sense—Megumi was still young, and cooking had always been considered a woman’s role in traditional clan life. And considering Toji’s seemingly chaotic lifestyle and the lack of a maternal figure, it was no wonder this felt new to him.
Still, the conversation flowed a little easier that evening. Each fleeting moment of ease melted your heart a little more. You were already developing a soft spot for the kid, despite his grumpy attitude. That much was obvious. You hadn’t had many interactions with children back at the clan estate—everything there had been too rigid, too suffocating for anything resembling normal relationships. So this, the tentative beginnings of friendship, felt… nice.
But even in those moments, there was still a frigid layer of distance he maintain between you two—a protective barrier he refused to let you pass. Distrusting, yes, but not beyond reach. He was still trying to figure you out, sizing you up, before deciding whether you were even worth the effort of trusting.
Why the hell was this kid so frosty? Was it Toji? The absence of a mother? Or something else entirely? You weren’t sure, but the guarded way Megumi carried himself—the abrasiveness, the defensive huffiness—stirred something in you.
You’d seen plenty of kids like him back in the clan house. Some were cold and indifferent, their walls impenetrable. Others carried arrogance like armor, wielding it to hide their insecurities. But the ones who stayed with you—the ones who truly stuck in your memory—were those too weak to defend themselves, cast aside for showing too much emotion. Beaten into shape. Megumi wasn’t like that, obviously. But the thought of him enduring anything similar made you feel...protective.
When you finally sat down to eat, the food turned out fantastic. Megumi, ever stoic, simply nodded in approval as he ate, but you caught the way his chopsticks moved a little faster than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.
“Not bad, right?” you teased lightly, hoping to draw a reaction from him.
His eyes flicked up to meet yours for a fleeting second before he mumbled, “It’s good.” Another almost-smile.
It was your second day in and you were starting to feel like this wasn't such a bad arrangement.
p.3?
AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!
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rabbiteclair · 2 years ago
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had a long discussion about the difficulties of testing credit card errors in production, namely that doing so would require me to have a credit card that is a valid number, absolutely won't get somebody $600 in actual charges if we use it to test, and will get errors from the payment processor if we try charging it, and my boss just... pulls out a comically large stack of credit cards from under his desk like 'oh you could've just asked if all you needed was a bad credit card. the only thing is that most of these have been reported stolen, is that an issue?'
this makes my life a lot easier, so I'm just gonna not ask questions.
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bontentrio · 26 days ago
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ATEEZ STUCK IN THE FRIENDZONE
ot8 x gn reader
summary: they are down bad for their best friend
tw: mostly fluff, maybe angst. also alcoholic drinks and being drunk in yeosang’s and wooyoung’s. parts. (+ possible spelling mistakes since english is not my first language!)
a/n: friends to lovers > any other tropes lol also requests are open rn!!
part 2: hongjoong + seonghwa | yunho + yeosang | san + mingi (more soon!)
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HONGJOONG
hongjoong felt helpless. he didn’t know if you were messing with him on purpose or if you were genuinely clueless to his feelings, but he is sure he’s about to lose his mind. how much more will he be able to take of your soft touches on his skin? or how close to his face you would get when you wanted to show him something on your phone?
everything would change if he just closed the distance between you two. or if he said those three dangerous words that had been appearing in his mind every time he saw you. three words. one kiss. or both?
“joong, are you with me?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he blinked rapidly and nodded “something about buying a new laptop right?”
you hummed in response, shoving your phone in his face while scooting closer. “i think i like this pink one, it’s so very cute, but do you think it will be able to take all the digital material for class and all my sims expansions? or should i just go with the boring one that has more storage?” you asked, looking at him. it took everything in him to not kiss you right then and there, so instead, he bit his lip, pretending to think about it.
“i mean, you can always personalize it with stickers so it’s less boring” he suggested. your eyes immediately widened, not having thought about that option. “hongjoong you are a genius! i can’t believe it didn’t cross my mind”
“i know you like the back of my hand y/n” he said in a whisper, but you heard him nonetheless.
“that’s why you’re my best friend, you always complement me” you said, smiling and returning to your seat beside him, as you started purchasing the ‘boring’ laptop.
hongjoong never wanted to bang his head against a wall more.
SEONGHWA
“so he told her that she was the crazy one! can you believe that, hwa?” you asked, crossing your arms as you walked beside him. you have been rambling non stop about what happened to one of your friends and her now ex boyfriend. “bold of him to accuse her of being crazy when he was the one that cheated with her cousin” he answered, turning his head towards you and smiling.
“right, thank you! that’s exactly what i told her!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air dramatically. “i swear guys are so dumb these days”
“the dumbest” he said, chuckling.
“not you of course, you are always the exception whenever i talk about men and their stupidness” you said, patting his shoulder lightly in a friendly manner. seonghwa’s heart skip a beat. he wanted to be an exception, he wanted you to realize his feelings so bad and for you to reciprocate them.
“trust me, i would not be friends with a dumb man” you continued, now grabbing his arm and leaning your head against it. “i genuinely think you are the only exception”.
he was about to start jumping from joy, were you about to realize how meant to be you both are? how you both were each other’s ‘exceptions’?
“i think you’re an exception too” he said, testing the waters as he stopped in his tracks, causing you to lift your head up to look at him. you smiled, and he swore his heart stopped beating for a second.
“of course i am! that’s why we’re best friends, hwa!” you exclaimed happily. in contrast, he internally screamed, hope slipping through his fingers slowly.
YUNHO
it was a sort of tradition to have game night every week in order to de-stress, followed by a slumber party of two. you would bring snacks and drinks, and yunho would provide the tv, playstation and games. it was the perfect arrangement.
tonight was no different: you were lying on the coach with your legs resting on top of yunho’s lap, as you quickly pressed on the buttons of your customized controller that he had gifted you for your last birthday. meanwhile, he played with his spider man joystick, silently cursing whenever he got hit by enemies.
“noo yunho i’m down! come and revive me!” you groaned when your character died. he chuckled in response “you are really bad at this game, y/n”.
you playfully hit his arm and rolled your eyes “i would be better if someone covered for me instead of running off!” you said. “i was getting supplies!” he complained, making his character bring you back to life. before he was done though, another player killed him. “what were you saying about my gaming skills, baby?” you asked, playfully.
yunho.exe stopped working, as every time you called him that nickname. he knew that you were just being friendly, but he couldn’t help how fast his heart would start beating each time. for you, it was just a word. but for him? the nickname meant everything: hope. hope that someday you will use the nickname in a way that would trascend friendship. hope that someday, you will realize his feelings and reciprocate them.
maybe if you used the word often enough, you would soon realize it.
YEOSANG
the first time you kissed was a drunken mistake. you both took one too many shots at san’s birthday party, and one thing lead to another and you ended up straddling his lap as you hungrily kissed him. despite his *very* drunk state, yeosang was over the moon, hoping this would change the direction of your friendship.
he realized how wrong he was when he woke up the morning after with a text from you that said “i hope that last night doesn’t change anything between us, i’m sorry”. he knew you were probably spiraling into the worst case scenarios, so he thought it would be healthier to just leave it there, for now at least. “we’re still friends, don’t worry” he texted back, hating himself for being a coward.
the second time was a dare at some party you attended of a mutual friend. he was the designated driver, and you knew he would have a hard time dragging his drunk friends back back to the car, so you offered to stay sober with him. he told you that it wasn’t necessary, earning a warm smile from you as you replied “that’s what best friends are for”.
the music was loud and the place was filled with drunk people, some making out in corners of the room, others engaging in incomprehensible conversations. yeosang and you were gathered in a circle with your friends as you played some sort of truth or dare game. it was mingi’s turn to spin the empty bottle of beer, having just finished his dare. to your misfortune, it landed on you.
“truth” you answered, earning groans from your friends, complaining about how ‘boring’ that option is. “y/n you picked truth last time! it’s dare time” mingi said in between giggles. “ugh fine, dare then i guess” you said, rolling your eyes as a smile creeped on your face.
“i dare you to kiss someone from this circle” he said, quickly glancing at yeosang, who immediately paled. you blushed, meditating your options for a moment before turning to your best friend. “we kissed once and remained friends. please don’t let this change”, you said, crashing your lips against his.
and he was, once again, over the moon, choosing to ignore the last part of that sentence.
SAN
“sannie!” you exclaimed, running up to him and throwing your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you in place as he hid his face on your neck, inhaling your scent in discretion. it’s been too long since he last saw you, felt you near him. “i missed you so much, san! tell me everything about the tour”
you spent the afternoon talking about his adventures while on tour, showing you pictures of different places and telling you funny anecdotes of his members. each time he finished a story, you would smile so big and radiantly he found himself trying to control his heartbeat from racing. you also told him about how you were doing, of course! he wanted to know every new detail in your life, even though he knew many of the updates since you both regularly texted.
“i missed this” he confessed, before adding “i missed you”. your eyes softened at his words, taking his hand on yours. “i missed you too, sannie. it’s hell not being able to see your best friend every day as usual” you said. unbeknownst to you, you had just broken his heart a little with that last part. he just nodded, giving you a small smile.
on tour he felt your absence in words he couldn’t describe, always reaching for you when you weren’t there or aching to just grab his phone and call you. so, he decided he had enough of that. he was determined to tell you his feelings.
“actually, i bought something for-“ he started saying, but got interrupted by your phone vibrating beside you. “sorry, hold on” you said, before picking up. a smiled immediately appeared on your face, lighting up your whole aura as you talked back to whoever was on the phone with you. san couldn’t be more in love with you.
“sorry sannie, i have to leave. i thought my date cancelled tonight but apparently will be able to make it on time. so i have to leave right now to get ready for it” you explained.
his heart broke once again, letting go of the silver necklace he had bought for you. maybe another time, or maybe he was already too late.
MINGI
you were starting to get annoyed, and mingi knew it. you stood in front of him, crossing your arms as you looked at him questioningly. “i just don’t understand why you won’t let me read your songs”, you complained.
mingi sighed in response, leaving his notebook on the table beside him. “because it’s personal, y/n”. you rolled your eyes in annoyance, not believing a single word that came out of his mouth. “oh so now it’s personal? wasn’t it also personal when you, without my knowledge may i add, read my diary?” you argued back.
“that was different and you know it! i literally didn’t even know it was your diary” he said. “plus you forgave me for that!”
on normal circumstances, he would let you read his song notebook as many times as you wanted, hell, he would even sing/rap the verses for you. but ever since he realized that the meaning behind those songs revolved around you, about how you, his best friend, were his main source of inspiration, he decided to never let those songs see the light of day. unless until he was ready. what if you were repulsed? what if you decided he was creepy and distanced yourself from him? he didn’t even want to think about those scenarios.
“yes i did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you still read about my deepest thoughts and-“ you started saying, before your eyes widened and your voice started stuttering “wait. do you- do you actually not trust me? do you think i would leak the songs to the media?”
mingi honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. or worse, what you said next: “is this also why you’ve been avoiding me?”. mingi felt like punching himself, had he been avoiding you unconsciously? he knew he started keeping his distance a bit more, not replying as quick and not visiting as often as before. but he thought the changes were not noticeable by you.
you stared at him, tears forming slowly but surely on your eyes, as you tried so hard to keep them from falling. mingi was looking down, too lost on his thoughts. you waited a few moments, before muttering a low “i would never do that to you, mingi”.
he realized you were gone when he heard the door closing behind you.
WOOYOUNG
“if looks could kill, that guy would be long dead” yunho said, wrapping an arm around wooyoung as he smiled teasingly. he huffed, not taking his eyes from you and the random guy that had been keeping you entertained for longer than appreciated.
you were just getting drinks from the bar, but a random guy approached you suddenly and stole your attention before wooyoung could do something about it. you didn’t look uncomfortable, so it’s not like he could just walk up to you and steal you away. you weren’t even “his” to steal to begin with, his official title being “my bestest friend in the whole world” as you would say. a title that he, in fact, despised.
“you can always intervene you know? i mean they were supposed to get you a drink” yunho pointed out before sipping from his beer can. wooyoung looked at him. then looked back at you. his decision was made the moment he saw the man reach for your waist.
“love, what’s taking my drink so long?” he asked as soon as he approached you at the bar, stealing you away from the man and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. you turned to him, unknowing of his true intentions “oh my god woo i forgot! here it is, i’m sorry”
but wooyoung’s eyes didn’t leave the man, who immediately averted his gaze. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend” the man said, glancing back at you. “he’s actually my best-“ you started saying but wooyoung interrupted you.
“boyfriend, yes. i think you should leave” .
JONGHO
jongho felt your arms wrap around him from behind the coach, pulling him back and stilling him in his place. he looked up at you and smiled softly, as you looked down with the same kind of smile. then, both of your attention was drifted back to wooyoung, who was dramatically telling a story about how hongjoong almost lost his laptop again.
“correction: someone stole it the first time, i didn’t lose it” hongjoong pointed out, earning a laugh from you. as cheesy as it seems, jongho truly believed that it is his favorite sound.
actually, you were his favorite everything: favorite person, favorite singer (despite only hearing you sing in the car or shower), favorite cook. the sound of your voice and laugh was his favorite, along with the way your face expressed clearly how you were feeling at the moment. to him, you were an open book, his favorite book.
the only problem was that he wasn’t sure if he was yours. yes, you were closer to him than with the rest, often confiding in him with your deepest secrets. you built an irreplaceable bond with him, one that he was truly afraid to break if he told you about his feelings. so for now, he settled with enjoying the skinship you offered.
getting too entertained by the dramatic scenery displayed in front of you, neither of you noticed mingi looking at your small, almost unconscious, interactions.
“hey how come we never get to hug you without getting kicked, jongho?” mingi asked, making everyone take notice of the way you were hugging and resting your head on jongho’s, as he traced his fingers along your arms.
“best friend privileges” you answered, noticing the way jongho flinched while he tried to think of a quick way to answer. what you didn’t know, was that your explanation made him want to scream. “oh really? isn’t it because-“ mingi started teasing, only to be interrupted by jongho abruptly standing up to kick him jokingly as he screamed, trying to block what he was trying to say.
he was willing to die with the secret that he had fallen deeply and stupidly in love with his favorite everything.
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kitten4sannie · 1 month ago
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blood pact
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pairing: vampire! wooyoung x human! reader (fem)
genre: vampire society au, a lil bit of angst, smut
summary: living in a city overrun by bloodsuckers is already hard enough on its own, but you’re really put to the test when one of them ends up being your only hope in the face of danger.
w.c: 4.3k
warnings: blood/injury, depictions of violence, death(s)? of a few vampires, hard-ish dom (slight tamer)! wooyoung, subby (tiny bit bratty)! reader, these mfs are nasty alr, some light brat taming, one or two little slaps, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, blood kink obv <3 (includes blood drinking/sharing), kissing, oral (giving), throat fucking, brief breath play, pain kink, mutual masturbation, lotus position but it’s rough !!, creampie
a/n: oh mannn i’m a bit late again 😣 but im excited to share this one with you all !! i wanted to thank my dear lily for beta reading this one for me and giving me lovely feedback that helps me grow as a writer, it truly means the world to me my dear 🩷 once again i do apologize if this fic seems disjointed in any way ,, things have been a bit weird but i won’t let life stop me from sharing nasty smut >:((( lol i hope you enjoy and please lemme know what you thought <33
song rec: dirt - depeche mode (we’re taking it wayyy back with this one <3)
fictober 2024
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You were never able to pinpoint exactly when humanity went to shit, as it had always been in a state of constant conflict and disarray, but somewhere along the way, it turned into a raging dumpster fire — one that was close to impossible to put out once it was lit. Unbeknownst to humans, there was a society of vampires that lived in the shadows for centuries, waiting patiently until it was the perfect time to make their existence known and feared. What better time to take over the world than when the humans were too busy being at each other’s throats to even realize they had a common enemy, one that would drain them of their life source within a blink of an eye? 
Anyone with a pulse had no choice but to fall in line and succumb to their undead overlords, having to make up their mind about whether they would like to join forces with the enemy by desecrating their DNA and joining those that single-handedly brought upon humanity’s destruction, or grovel at their feet and become a slave, a house pet of sorts whose soul purpose was to feed and entertain their blood-sucking masters.
It was not an easy choice for most, and especially for you, so you simply found another solution — blend in. If you embodied everything a vampire was, even down to their immeasurable sense of pride and entitlement, how could they tell you apart from the others? And when they saw through your ruse, you would drive a stake through their still heart. You would never join their empire, let alone be one of their toys, especially not for some pompous undead prick that would treat you like a glorified juice box. 
Yet, here you were, drunk off your ass at a gothic nightclub that welcomed vampiric guests and shunned anyone with a beating heart, unless they were owned and branded. 
“Gimme another whiskey, neat,” you slurred, holding your empty shot glass to the poor excuse of a human bartender standing on the other side of the bar. You scoffed at the jeweled collar he wore around his neck, knowing he was owned by whatever undead asshole that ran the nightclub. You had your own collar, of course, but you had taken it from someone that was…no longer in need of it. You did what you had to, to make it through another night in the corrupted world you regretfully called your home. 
“I should cut you off, y’know, especially after being such a dick to me all night,” the man mumbled, despite reaching underneath the bar to grab an almost empty bottle of whiskey and filling your glass back up, not wanting to risk angering his superiors. 
“But, you won’t. Your vampiric asshole of a boss wouldn’t like that you’re denying a paying customer.” You stuck your tongue out at the man, much to his dismay. You sipped on the whiskey, liking the way it burned as it went down your throat, grateful that you could still feel something, even if it was a drunkenness that would most likely do irreversible damage to your liver. It’s not like your life really mattered, not in this timeline, at least. 
You lazily held your glass up in his direction, blowing a few strands of loose hair out of your eyes. The man simply held up the empty bottle and gave you a tight smile. “All out. Now, would you pay your tab?” 
“Fineeee, oh my god,” you groaned dramatically, standing up from the barstool and wobbling a bit, fishing for your wallet somewhere inside your worn trench coat. When you opened it up, you came upon the discovery that it was completely empty, looking up to find fear inside the bartender’s eyes. “L-listen, I can replace that bottle, okay? I-I’ll…just need to stop by the local temp agency first.” 
“I think you should leave, before they catch wind of this…” the bartender warned you under his breath, unconsciously tugging at his collar. 
Swallowing harshly, you glanced around the crowded, dingy club past the collar of your coat, before stumbling your way past many vampire patrons that were drunk off the blood of their human pets who stayed close to them, wishing your blurry surroundings weren’t moving in slow motion. Paranoid that somebody was following you, you looked past your shoulder, only seeing the same crowd of drunken patrons. Temporarily relieved, you swiftly faced forward again, only to accidentally bump into someone face-first, your teeth clinking into the metal of their lip ring, your hands almost getting caught in the many necklaces they were wearing. “I’m so sorry, oh my god, please don’t kill me,” you automatically apologized, already knowing they weren’t human based on the lack of a collar and color in their cheeks. 
“If I wanted to, I would,” Wooyoung teased in his own special way, quite aware of the way your heart rate spiked as soon as his light, airy words reached your ears. He enjoyed playing around with his food as much as the next vampire, but lately, it’s grown quite dull, like everything else in his never-ending life.
“O-oh!” you squeaked, letting out a nervous laugh, sticking one hand into your coat pocket to wrap your fingers around the sharp stake you carried with you everywhere. 
He brought one manicured finger up to tap against the jewel sitting snugly against your collared neck, leaning in to press his lips against the slope of your ear. “I’d take you right here in front of everyone, drink you dry. Let them all enjoy the pretty sounds you’d make. Does that sound fun?” 
“Oh, you can try it, if you want,” you goaded him, looking up at him with your big doe eyes once he pulled back, wondering if he knew just how unhinged you were, just how on the edge you really were. “But, what happens if I’m poisonous? I might not be worth the stomachache.” 
Wooyoung chuckled to himself, not used to any human acting so boldly towards him. “Fair point, human.” 
“Y/N,” you corrected him, letting go of you weapon in favor of wrapping your finger around one of his silver necklaces, teasing him back in your own way. “You should at least know my name if you’re going to drink from me.” 
Wooyoung mused at your actions, studying you with his sly fox eyes, licking at the mole on his lip. He would’ve pursed you if you hadn’t suddenly gotten spooked by something, turning his head to watch you continue making your way out of the club, noticing that the owner quickly followed after you. Things were certainly getting interesting. 
By the time you inhaled the cold night air into your lungs, you had already broke out into a sweat. You let your heavy coat hang off past your shoulders and leaned back against a nearby wall, regretting all the alcohol you had subjected your poor body into taking. “Fuck me…” you groaned, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back into the cool concrete behind you, hoping that would make the world stop spinning. 
“Is that an invitation…?” asked the very vampire you had been talking shit about to the bartender just a few minutes earlier. “It’s the least you could offer me in exchange for all the whiskey you drank in my club, filthy human.” 
Your blood ran cold. “D-don’t you even think about touching me…You aren’t my owner.” 
“Oh, because of this little collar you have on? You really don’t have a clue about our kind, do you? There’s no pheromones on you, just your own filthy human scent,” the vampire chided, running his finger along the worn band of your lace collar. It made your skin crawl. You struggled to keep down all the alcohol you had drowned yourself in. Just then, he ripped it from your neck and replaced it with his slender fingers, squeezing around it until your vision grew just that more blurry. “But, don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the lost time that you haven’t been used like a proper toy.” 
Blinding rage joined the revulsion you felt for the individual that continued to toy with you as though you were a defenseless child, the culmination of it churning around inside your body like molten hot lava ready to pour out of you. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” you barked, shoving your hands into his shoulders as hard as you could, your feverish anger growing that much more when he hardly moved. 
In response, the vampire tugged your coat down and ripped open your top, causing the buttons to fly off. His abhorrent words became nothing more than radio static inside your ringing ears, once you saw red, clutching the wooden stake inside your pocket so tightly that it pierced your fragile skin. You reeled your arm back and drove it straight into the owner’s side, so violently that the wood split into shards, not letting go of it until you knew that it was lodged deeply inside him, wishing, hoping he felt even a fragment of the pain his kind had caused you. “Die,” you muttered, searching his eyes for some sign of shock, regret, grief, anything. 
Confusion overtook your flushed features when the man simply laughed directly in your face, as though he were savoring a joke that you weren’t in on, suddenly feeling a white hot burning pain inside your abdomen. Something was wrong, deeply wrong. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t, not while you were gurgling on your own blood. You looked down to see the hilt of a dagger sticking out of your stomach, reality hitting you like a ton of bricks, rendering it impossible to draw in air. 
“It never ceases to amuse me when a blood bag thinks they can stop someone like me with something as silly as a wooden stake,” he began, letting out a small hum, as he drove his ritual dagger in as far as it could go. He leaned in close to you, twisting the knife around inside you just to hear the delightful sounds of agony that escaped your red tinted lips. “I’ve been alive longer than your entire bloodline, pathetic human, and I’ll be outliving you tonight.” And with that, the club owner ripped the dagger back out and strolled back into the building, licking the crimson that still ran down the sides of his blade. 
You should’ve known this would happen eventually in a world like this. You had no power from the very start. Why had you been blind to the truth until this very moment, when all you could see was your precious blood leaving your body? Regardless, it was far too late to ruminate over trivial things. Death’s gentle whispers were lulling you to sleep, its sweet promises of rest numbing out most of the visceral emotions that coursed through your veins. Slumping against the wall, you held your middle with trembling hands, gazing up at the full moon that loomed over you, wanting to enjoy her beauty one last time — at least, until someone blocked your view. 
“For fuck’s sake, can’t you see I’m dying here? Let me look at the moon in peace…” you murmured, weakly glaring up at the stranger you had met inside that godforsaken club only a couple minutes ago.
“You still got some fire in you, doncha, sweetheart?” Wooyoung mused, crouching down so you were at eye level, reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. “But, you’ll die of blood loss soon…pity.”
“You’re very observant,” you replied snarkily, leaning your head back into the wall, your vision growing darker by the second. You let out a long, defeated sigh, choking a bit on the blood left inside your raw throat. “Are you just here to watch me die? If that’s the case, can you do me a favor and make it quick?” 
“You didn’t seem like the type to give up so easily.” He leaned in close to you, his crimson eyes shining that much brighter when he asked, “Don’t you want revenge?” 
His question echoed inside your mind, once as a whisper, and eventually as a desperate plea. “And what if I do…? It’s not like I can do much now…”
“Let me turn you.” He bared his fangs. “You’ll live, and you’ll be so much stronger than ever before.” He watched as your eyes widened, then returned to normal, figuring you were weighing your options, though they were vastly limited. “You’ll be free to take his life away, do with it as you please, just like he was going to do to you. Doesn’t that sound delicious?” 
A few drops of blood dribbled down the side of your mouth. The sand in your hourglass was about to run out. “What do you get in return?” 
Wooyoung’s lips curled up into a sadistic smile, his eyes resembling glowing crescent moons. “I’ll be your Master, of course. It’s only fair, being your savior, and all.” 
Though that was the very last thing you wanted, you were far too stubborn to die out in such a pathetic fashion. Not only that, but you were being offered the deal of a lifetime, at the end of your lifetime, to be exact, and in exchange for your mortal soul, you could enact sweet, sweet revenge and have a new tale to tell, one that no man or monster could ever take from you. 
“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” Wooyoung joked slyly, tapping the invisible watch on his wrist. 
“Alright, deal, but make it quick–” you were barely able to enunciate, before Wooyoung was all over you, one hand holding the side of your head, while the other felt where your artery was, immediately sinking his fangs deep into your neck to start the transformation process. 
When you came to, you looked up at your savior, your eyes as red as the blood he had sucked out of you, all of the immense pain that plagued your body gone as quickly as it came, instead replaced by an indescribable thirst. 
“How do you feel, pet?” Wooyoung asked, licking remnants of your life source from his manicured fingers. 
You bared your new, needle sharp fangs to your Master. “Hungry.” 
He smiled at you like a proud father would. “I think I know how we can fix that.” 
-
The last thing the vampiric club owner expected to see when he was sitting inside the comfort of his secluded office was the human woman he had just murdered out of cold blood stomping up to his desk and tossing it out of the way like it wasn’t made of marble. 
“H-hey, we can talk about this, right?” he asked nervously, holding his hands up, along with the stacks of cash that were in between his grubby fingers. “You want money? You can have it!” 
You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him towards you so violently, he just about broke his neck. “I don’t want money. I want your life.” 
When Wooyoung casually strolled into the cush office and pressed his back against the opaque door, the other vampire pleaded at him with his wide eyes. “Wooyoung, baby, this is your favorite club, isn’t it? Haven’t I treated you good here?” 
“Y/N will treat you good too, don’t worry,” he reassures sweetly, dragging his tongue across his pointed teeth. He brought his finger up to his chin like he just remembered something, nodding to himself. “Ahh, she does bite, though.” 
Just as Wooyoung’s cackles rang out inside the vast room, the club owner shifted his frightened gaze to you just in time to see your jaw open wide, gulping at the sheer size of your fangs. And just like that, you bit down onto the vampire’s neck, getting a good grip on his skin, before swiftly turning your head and causing a fountain of blood to rain over you. 
Once you were done feeding, there was hardly anything left of the club owner. Most of him was inside you, and the rest was left splattered across the pedestrian paintings he had up on the walls. Still sitting on the floor near scattered, bloodied hundred dollar bills, you licked up the rest of him from your fingers, your entire body vibrating with pleasure now that your killer was no longer with you, and for other reasons you couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it had something to do with your new body and your newfound love for excess.
Wooyoung clapped his hands together with giddy delight, giving the top of your head a few pats as a reward. “What a good girl. Do you feel full?” 
Shaking your head, you reached up to Wooyoung’s waistband, undoing the belt buckle and easing his pants down, licking at your red stained lips all the while. The burning, mind-melting desire to consume didn’t leave you, it only multiplied. It clouded your mind, made you feel like you might lose your mind if you didn’t make it stop. “Not enough…my throat…need it filled…” 
“Ahh, I see,” Wooyoung sighed knowingly. This always happened with the humans he turned; they turned into insatiable monsters, always driven by their need for more. He could never get tired of it. Leaning his back against the dripping wall, he reached down to slide his fingers into your soft hair, angling your head upwards, cooing softly at you as he pushed his way into your mouth. “Be careful with your fangs, sweetheart.” 
Relaxing your throat upon the sudden intrusion, you opened your mouth wider, as to not pierce Wooyoung’s cock with your new fangs, feeling content once the entirety of his twitching length fit snugly inside. It was when the vampire thrusted further into your throat that you made a wet gagging sound, tears forming inside your crimson eyes, closing them. 
“Ah, ah,” Wooyoung tutted, giving your cheek a light smack, smiling sweetly down at you when your eyes opened back up. “That’s right, you better look at me with those pretty eyes of yours if you’re going to take me down your throat like this. That’s what a good pet does.” 
Once Wooyoung started to fuck your throat, eager to fill it with his cum, his pale fingers pulling tightly at your hair, you did your best not to choke around him, welcoming him in again, over and over, until saliva and pre-cum dripped down your chin and along your bare chest.
“Mmnh….nnnhmm…” you moaned in approval, reaching up to hold onto his bucking hips, digging your nails into his protruding hip bones. You blinked more tears away, wanting to see Wooyoung’s sadistic face without the constant blurriness that plagued your vision. Whether you had a penchant for punishment or you were simply bloodthirsty, it caused you to prod at the vampire’s cock with your fangs, the tangy flavor of iron joining the abundance of precum that lubed up your throat. 
“Fuck, you’re a naughty girl, biting me like that,” Wooyoung hissed in between violent thrusts, suddenly holding your head still when the entirety of his cock was inside your throat, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, satisfied with the filthy gurgling noises you couldn’t help but make for him, feeling more of your spit drip down his heavy balls. He smacked his hand against your cheek again, watching it grow rosy, before pinching your nose tightly. “But, you can’t help it, huh? You just want to be put in your place. I can’t blame you for that.”
The sensation was suffocating, the feeling of being used added onto the constant buzz of pleasure that was running through your veins; it was nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. It almost made you wish that you had let yourself be turned a long time ago. No one could stop you now, not even him. Maybe your humanity was slipping away from you, much like your sanity with each passing moment. 
It wasn’t until you could breathe again and something warm, heavy, was pressing down on the tip of your tongue that you faded back into reality, just in time for Wooyoung to shoot a seemingly never-ending cumshot down the back of your aching throat.
“You’ll swallow, won’t you?” he asked sweetly, giving the bottom of your chin a light tickle with his clawed fingers. 
When you stuck out your tongue to show him that nothing was left, Wooyoung grabbed you by the chin and yanked you towards him, biting the tip of your tongue to draw blood. You watched him suck it off with half-lidded eyes, having to close your thighs together to keep a fresh wave of slick from dripping out of you. 
Before you knew it, he was on the floor with you, not even needing to pull you into his lap, groaning into your mouth as you climbed into it yourself, the heated kiss you shared consisting mostly of tongue, pointed teeth, and blood. You swapped red-tinted saliva back and forth, your hands working in tandem to tear off each other’s clothes and grope one another wherever you could, trying to create as much friction between your lower halves as you could, Wooyoung’s stiff cock rubbing deliciously into your clothed cunt. 
You broke the kiss when your thirst once again grew too strong to ignore, reaching up to run your index finger over the mole on Wooyoung’s glistening bottom lip, hissing softly when he pierced it with one of his fangs. You both watched the blood slowly trickle down along your skin, sharing a similar look with one another, before you leaned in to lap it up, your tongues meeting in the middle. 
As though telepathically connected, you reached to slip your panties off from underneath your skirt the same time Wooyoung undid the buttons of his pants, immediately rubbing at yourselves in order to get off as quickly as possible. 
“Look at me when you cum,” Wooyoung demanded between huffs of air, staring you down past his wispy lashes, the speed at which he was stroking his cock producing lewd squelching sounds, his slender fingers slicked up with his abundant pre-cum. 
Trembling, you opened up your teary eyes to look at Wooyoung, the indescribable pleasure etched into his face causing you to throb nonstop, curling your fingers up in just the right way to launch you into a world of ecstasy. “C-cumming…” 
Wooyoung groaned at the sight and feeling of your release spilling into his lap, squeezing his hand tightly around the base of his cock, hot spurts of cum landing on your abdomen and dripping down your bare cunt, not even caring that you both dirted his designer jeans with your shared arousal. “I’m gonna make you do that again, on my cock this time, you hear me?” he growled at you, lifting you up like you weighed nothing and dropping you down onto his growing erection. 
“Fuck,” you gasped sharply, holding onto his shoulders to keep your composure, your thighs still shaking from your residual pleasure, a low, burning pain present within your core  as your hole stretched to accommodate the vampire’s size. “T-too much…” 
Wooyoung’s ego just about doubled in that moment, his ringed fingers closing in on your soft waist, suddenly bucking his hips up into you like it was his sole mission to do so in the afterlife. Smiling smugly at the small, broken noises he was punching out of you with his vicious thrusts, he couldn’t help but let out a few crazed giggles. “Can’t take it now that I’m rearranging these pretty guts of yours, huh?” He mirrored your pout, his lower lip jutting out. “But, I thought you were my cum slut, my good little blood whore.” 
“I am…! I–fuck, I am, Master…!” you found yourself crying out, tears inside your hazy eyes, tasting dried blood when you wet your dry lips, knowing you wouldn’t even recognize your reflection if you saw it now. You were a new model, remolded, changed for the better. 
His hypnotic eyes began to glow. “Be a good sleeve and take it for your Master, yeah?”
You did as he said, taking everything he gave you like a pliant doll, letting him lick, bite, drink from you, and fuck you dumb for as long as his still heart desired, wondering if he was even aware of how much your blood boiled inside you. 
Wooyoung was just like the others. They were all the same, treating you like a helpless toy, using you for their enjoyment and tossing you aside when they were bored, viewing your humanity as your downfall, and perhaps they were right. Like two magnets, you couldn’t live without the other, and now, you were a monster like him, one in the same. 
Just as you both reached your climax together, holding desperately onto one another, Wooyoung’s bewitching gaze no longer holding captive, you felt a supreme power rise within yourself. You didn’t need him, not when you were now your own Master. The only thing you served now was your endless hunger. 
Wooyoung couldn’t get you off once you latched onto his neck, gasping and sputtering, his constant struggles only forcing your fangs just that much deeper into his skin and the artery you had targeted, digging his claws into your back as a last ditch effort. “But, we…we made a pact,” he coughed out, his gravelly voice reflecting the immense pain he felt. He couldn’t fight back any longer, simply slumping back against the wall to accept his fate, holding his hand up to his torn neck, despite it not doing anything to prevent the crimson from flowing through his fingers. “I don’t understand…” 
“I recall warning you that I was poisonous,” you replied softly, licking remnants of his precious life source from your stained lips. 
He couldn’t help but smile, his eyes resembling half-moons. “Fair point, human…”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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fawnhunter · 4 months ago
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cregan stark aka mr attitude adjustment.
sometimes cregan needs to check himself, and make sure ur good too
this is part of a series which at the moment also includes benjicot blackwood. if there's anyone you'd like to see done next please let me know! general NSFW content warning, talk of impregnation.
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lalala cregan stark lalala tom taylor...can i just preface this by saying he causes the ultimate brain rot. i look at him and my brain just goes " big man in pelts and amour big man in pelts and-" anyway!
to me cregan stark is the physical embodiment of non sexual dominance. i mean we all know how well the men of the north treat their women, like they are queens even if they wear the crown or not. and being with the lord of winterfell himself only makes things better. He walks into a room and he demands control and attention, and when people see you his pretty little wife hanging off his arm it only makes him feel that much more powerful.
back to the n.s.d thing, lets just says he's a natural "father" figure. i can see him falling for someone who needs some... light correcting... are u following me. finding love with someone who may be a bit mouthy. who isn't afraid to look him in the face and disagree with him, to offer a different opinion from the other daft cunts int he room. someone who will watch him train, who will watch him knock new coming knights onto the ground without flinching away.
i just think he would find excitement in someone with a little fight in them. someone he can back into a corner with his body mass alone, looking down his nose at you no matter how much to try to stand tall in front of him. staring you down into submission until you don't have a peep left in you, giving him the talking space to tell you how exactly things are going to go from here on out. [nsfw]
its hard to imagine actual angry sex with cregan, a man made of honor like that would never try and apologize with his cock before he does so with his words. however, i can imagine jealous, possessive, and passionate sex with cregan after his honor towards you has been tested. maybe someone eludes to you having an hard time producing heirs, suggesting someone else. or maybe they have the audacity to marry you off or send you away for some sort of gain for winterfell. all of a sudden there's knocking on ur chamber doors, and ur being pushed into ur room instead of opening the door properly.
from there the evening existed entirely of hot and heavy breathing accompanied by his harsh grip moving along ur skin. he touches you with purpose, like he's trying to leave some sort of trace of him on ur skin. teeth biting into ur neck, the feeling similar to that of a wolfs fangs leaving bruises on ur skin after a harsh nip. if it was up to him he would've torn ur shift away from ur body and throw it into the fire, leaving you bare before his eyes for the rest of time. his war torn hands run up along whatever parts of you he can reach. his touches are desperate in the way he pushes you into the chaise, in way too much of a hurry to move both of you to the bed it seems. fingers prepping ur sweet cunt while muttering words of owners ship and adoration into ur neck. his hair tickles ur skin as you begin to claw at the part of him you can. its clumsy and desperate, the kind of intercourse where you know there's something he's trying to get off his chest but he just doesn't have the words to say it. its when he finally sheathes himself inside of you that he tells you all about the lords who dared to speak of you to his face. heavy girth pumping in and out of you while his voice gets louder and louder, crying out ur name over the sounds of lilted moans. making sure all the lords and ladies down the hall know that you won't be going anywhere. especially away from him.
this is my first work for cregan i love him so much that wolf of a man. my ask box is always open tbh i love to yap especially abt hotd
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amphitriteswife · 3 months ago
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Foolish love
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Pairing: Jonggun x reader
Source: Lookism
Summary: visiting Jonggun in jail
Genre: angsty. Sort of fluff idk tbh
Warmings: it sucks ass and its short but uhh its one of my 101838227 concepts about him
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‘I love you.’ Jonggun sighed as he heard the words leave your mouth. His hands were finally free of those annoying handcuffs. His body still healing from injuries and damage he took during the many fights he experienced some days ago. Most of them were patched up or in bandages, the only one being visible was the bruising near his right eye. Really, your words made him tired, but to you it was different. Your words were full of emotion, they were genuine. Something Jonggun knew himself. Yet he still thought it was foolish. Love is foolish.
Jonggun already saw how Love made one of his pupils blind, he was talking about Eli Jang. Someone he favored for a long time over Johan or Samuel. Eli had the motivation, the talent, the strength to walk in the footsteps Jonggun had. Yet he threw it all away for a woman. And look where it got him. Eli experienced even more problems, questioning his own morals, all for the sake of his family and daughter. One can understand why, one can sympathize, and one can relate. Yet Jonggun still never understood why he would throw it all away. How foolish of him.
Just as how he thought that Eli’s love for Heather is foolish. He considers your love for him foolish. Something you shouldn’t have for him. Something you never should’ve had since the beginning. What he wanted was someone who could kill him. Someone that could handle him in a fight. Admiration. Motivation. Money. Will power. When he met you, you had it all. You still do. You put up a fight he never experienced. He didn’t have to fight so many others to get to the main point. It wasn’t a fights based on purposes or goals. Just seeing who was stronger. Who could really tear off one’s skin. Who had more experience. Who had more power. Who had more stamina. Both of you didn’t get to lose, nor win as the fight was broken up. But it didn’t go to waste either. No matter where you went or what you did. Jonggun saw pleasure in chasing you and taking every opportunity to test you once again. And every time he looked even more unhinged, even Goo admitted that he found him creepy sometimes.
The open mouthed smile. The white ray of teeth. The salvia still hanging off it. And every time he was in UI state, which made him look even more demonic. Jonggun was a devil who had good morals. Sometimes. Yet did a lot of questionable things. He was crazy, yet that’s the sole purpose of why you found him attractive. Isn’t it weird? How do did you ever come to love someone like him?
‘You’re foolish.’ Is what he said. He didn’t even sound angry. Nor sad. Nor disappointed. It was just a deadpanned sentence. It didn’t hold any meaning. Any emotion. Nothing at all. It sucked. It really did. It’s not like you wanted to love him either. His piercing eyes that most found chilling were beautiful to you. The creepiness of them always made you very intrigued. Even now, when you’re pouring your heart out, he’s uninterested. Perhaps a cold prison does really fit him. But the same could be said to you, you met him there exactly 3 years ago after all. Together with Charles, a man who was just a cleaner of the prison who caused all this mess. Even to you it was all vague and unclear, the only reason you ever went along with Charles was for Jonggun. It was all for him. Everything was.
‘You suck... If it was up to me, i could do anything for you.’ You told him bluntly. It made him raise an eyebrow. He never noticed how attached you were to him. Perhaps he never noticed it all. Why did it even matter? It’s not like you ever wanted something with him to begin with. It’s not something you expected. He’s a loyal person, just not a romantic. But that’s enough. Because although his loyalty laid with Charles, yours laid with him. It’s funny isn’t it? He called you a fool, yet he’s the foolish one for not noticing how the two of you were so similar…yet so different. Seeing him against the other side of the glass in a dark blue uniform. It brought back lots of memories. Yet this time you felt much more saddend. You weren’t in love with him. But you loved him. You wanted him to be happy. To finally be free from Charles, yet when it happend it wasn’t what you thought it would be…how disappointing.
Jonggun on the other hand laughed a little at your sentence when he thought about it. You would do everything for him? How loyal. But truly, that’s not something he wanted. He wanted to be left alone, he declined your offer to see him many times, every time he didn’t even mention why. What an ass. Sometimes he didn’t even show up. Even now when you’re in front of him, pleading and confused. Tears streaming down your face, begging him to at least let you help him. He still only apologized for making you cry without giving you an answer to anything. He always left you in the dark, only telling things that seemed necessary. He could only just stare at you from the other side of the glass with hand pressed against yours, just the thick glass in between both the hands. He only told you some words you couldn’t even understand. Something you still don’t get. Not why. Not when. Not how. But you’ll still follow them anyway. He knows it and so do you. No matter what jonggun says. You’ll always follow them. Just like how he followed Charles
‘Wait for me.’
Those are the only 3 words he told you before leaving on his own regard, he still had time left. Even the guards were confused. But it’s Jonggun. He’s never one to speak much about his feelings or emotions anyway…so once again you’re left in the darknwith unanswered questions and uncertain feelings. What a jerk…a jerk you cared about.
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Thank yall for readin :P 🩵🤍
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago
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i can't remember if I sent something like this to you before. but a drabble where Jonathan crane is helping a student or fellow colleague test a new drug they made. however, the drug instead acts like an aphrodisiac making the reader completely pliable to jonathans wants...
YOU DID AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT AND IM SO GLAD YOU SENT IT AGAIN!!!
warnings: dubcon cause of the drug, breeding kink, spanking, kinda rough/aggressive, housewife and misogyny kink hehe
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"Please, please," you whined as you tugged him closer by the lab coat, pressing your thighs together to try to hide the arousal running down them. "Please, Dr. Crane--"
"I don't know what you need," he panted, "tell me what you need, I'll try to help."
"I need... need you to--" you choked out, knowing you couldn't just say what was in your head: touch me, fuck me, need you inside me right now, need you to breed me--
He pulled you a little closer, looking at your face, and you whimpered as you looked up at him. "You're burning up," he noticed, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, and you worried your knees would buckle.
"F-fuck, please," you begged again, "touch me more."
"Where?" he asked, but there was a sparkle in his eye that made you think he might already know what was going on. "Tell me where, and I'll help you."
You tried to grab his hand to guide it between your legs, but he pulled away.
"I want to hear you say it," he insisted.
"My pussy," you blurted out, "fuck, please-- I need to--"
He snapped suddenly, turning you around and bending you over the lab table in an instant. "I know what you need," he decided suddenly as he roughly stripped you, getting as much of your clothes out of the way as you arched your back and whined for more. "I know what you fucking need," he said again before smacking your bare ass harshly, making you shudder and pant. "Need to be filled."
"Yes," you breathed.
"Need to be fucked," he continued, and you whined.
"Yes!"
"Need to be bred."
You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, teasing your opening like you weren't already desperate enough. "H-how," you choked out, "how could you know I need that? Did you know the drug would do this?"
"No," he answered, "this is what you all need. You're just usually too afraid to admit it."
He plunged into you with a sigh, your whole body shaking as he started to fuck you-- not too hard, but not exactly delicate either.
"I didn't know what was in that drug you tried," he went on, "but I suppose whatever it is finally made you realize your purpose. To be bred and claimed."
"Oh god, Crane," you blurted out.
"I think you can call me Jonathan now," he laughed as he leaned down over you, holding your hips tighter. "We might as well be on a first name basis, if I'm gonna get you pregnant."
You purred and arched your back, everything in you crying out for exactly that.
"Such a cute little career woman," he chuckled, "but you're no better than this, are you? Still need a man to fuck some babies into you. Did you always want it to be me? Or will anybody do?"
You'd had a crush on him before, sure, but not exactly the type that makes you want a child-- that was definitely the drugs talking.
"Gonna get you so fucking full," he promised with a groan, "gonna give you every drop until you're pregnant-- think that'll help you calm down?"
"Yes," you sobbed, "fuck, please--"
"Can't wait to see you like that," he smiled, "full with my baby. Tits all swollen and sore... so needy and wet all the time from the hormones-- sort of like this, hopefully a little more rational, though. You're gonna make the prettiest housewife, sweetheart, now that you finally know your place."
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skzhua · 8 months ago
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a price i'm willing to pay | part 27 - play pretend?
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MASTERLIST
pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader
genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.
warnings: swearing, might have suggestive bits.
summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.
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Needless to say, you were stressed. Even if Chan’s building was not that far from yours, the few minutes you had to wait for him were agonizing. Moving your knee up and down, biting your bottom lip as you stared at the time, picking the skin around your nails… There wasn’t a thing you weren’t doing in attempt to calm yourself.
“You good?” Changbin questioned you as he was heading out for his own lunch break.
“Yup, never been better,” you sent him a thumbs up but by the look on his face, he was not convinced in the slightest.
“I’m going for fried chicken; do you want me to bring you some?”
You swooned at the gesture but shook your head no. “Chan and I will eat together.”
The disappointment was obvious on his face but he smiled nonetheless, waving at you as he walked out. You almost felt bad until you remembered the messages exchanged with Chan. You had no idea what he wanted to talk about. Did he want to discuss your future projects? Was he regretting collaborating with you? Or worst, did he want to divorce you after realizing he made a mistake?
So many things ran through your mind that you didn’t take notice of Chan standing tall in front of your desk, blazer slouched over his shoulder. Once your eyes set on him, you swallowed thickly upon taking in how fucking handsome he was. There were times you could refrain yourself from such thoughts, but you were all over the place today.
“Really? You’re checking me out right now?” he sighed in disappointment, although he still had a hint of amusement in his tone.
“I’m not,” you argued even if you knew the blush on your face would betray you.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Shall we go?”
“Where?”
He perked an eyebrow up. “To eat..?”
“Right,” you cleared your throat before gathering your jacket and purse clumsily.
There was no denying it; this was the cutest sight Chan had had of you so far. Still, he tried to not let it show through and guided you out to the café nearby. You chose a booth that was a bit further from the other tables so you could have some sort of privacy. You sat down, legs jittering under the table, and motioned the seat across from you for Chan to sit on. Only, as is he was intentionally testing your patience and making you even more nervous on purpose, he shook his head and walked to the lineup at the cash register. From there, he sent a small smile to your direction but you could only roll your eyes. This was one of the instances where you would remember why you despised him in the first place.
It only took him a few minutes but he finally sat with you as he brought along with him two carrot muffins and two lattes. You would lie it you said you didn’t find adorable how he remembered your usual and that he ordered the same for him. Nevertheless, this was not what you were here for.
“How was work this morning?” he asked after taking a sip and you deadpanned at him.
“Really? That’s what you’re going to say first?:
He sighed. “I don’ know how to bring the subject into the conversation smoothly.”
“Just say it as it is, it's killing me how I have no idea what you want to discuss about.”
His gaze softened before he cleared his throat. “I know you said to never bring it up again, but it's been on my mind for months and I think I'll go crazy if I don’t have answers.”
Your body stiffened. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The question was why would he bring it up now, after months since it occurred. If it bugged him so much, you would have maybe let him speak.
“What are your questions?”
He seemed surprised and somewhat relieved to see how calm you remained. “Why did you say to not talk about it again? Are you ashamed of it?”
“Ashamed of it?” you repeated. “No, of course not. It's just- I wasn’t thinking straight that night.”
“So your solution to something you caused was to ignore it,” he scoffed. “Does it mean you regret it?”
“Wasn’t it obvious when I ask you to not mention it again?”
His jaw clenched and he took a sip of his latte as a temporary distraction. “Is it that bad that we kissed?”
“We're business partners, Chan.”
“To you, that’s what we are. But I would have hoped after the year we had, you would maybe consider me as your friend at the very least.”
You gulped at his statement. The thing was, you never knew in what category he fitted. At first, it was your rival. Then, a business partner. But with time, you saw your relationship with him to a level you never thought it would reach. You sought to him for comfort, you would call him at random times to get your mind off things, you would actually enjoy your silly fake dates, and — although you would never admit it out loud — the posts you made about each other online made your heart swoon. He was never your friend, but he wasn’t someone you hated anymore.
“Another thing,” he continued after seeing you would not answer. “If you have something with Changbin, it was never my intention to come between the two of you. Heck, I was even a replacement for him that night since he couldn’t come.”
“That’s not true,” you were quick to correct.
“Why did you invite me over the one time he wasn’t going to be there, then?”
You groaned in frustration. “You and Changbin are two totally different people. In no way did I ever think of you as replacement for him. And to answer your question, it’s because he hates you.”
He took a second to register what you said before speaking again, hesitantly. “Do you have something going on with him?”
“Alright, jealous boy, I think we covered enough ground here,” you tried to dismiss the topic but, clearly, he had no intention for you to do so.
“Y/N, do you?”
You thought for a moment, which in itself would have sent Chan's mind into a whirlwind of overthinking, but you responded. “Wonhee thinks he does have feelings for me, but I don’t see him like this. If so, it would have happened long ago.”
He struggled with containing his satisfied smile. “And, are you seeing anybody?”
“If you don’t count, then no.”
His eyes lingered on yours for a moment which inevitably made you self-conscious of your words. You didn’t think before speaking, and somehow, it felt like you said the right thing. Still, you had no idea what you were implying with this. Did you want to be with him for real? Or did you say that because, in a way, you are seeing each other? The latter sounded like the most likely to be, but the first one had a ring to it that was melody to your ears.
“That’s all I wanted to discuss,” he ended up responding, much to your disappointment. “Just let me know if you do begin to date, because-"
“I won’t.”
He frowned at your interruption. “What?”
“We're married, I'm not going to hoe around for no reason.”
“We're married on paper, Y/N.”
“It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. If you are uncomfortable with it, I won’t. Besides, you’re not so bad of a husband.”
His cheeks turned pink while his smile grew, showing his dimples in the process. He sent a wink your way as to tell you he knows what you meant but in all honesty, this took him aback quite a lot. And this was the moment he knew his feelings were definitely stronger than what he had originally thought. In a way, he was grateful you didn’t seem to catch onto his very flustered self. However, a part of him wanted you to know he took this compliment to heart.
“I should get going,” you broke the silence, showing him the time on your phone. “Thank you for the latte and the muffin.”
“It’s nothing. I can walk you to the company.”
You pondered for a second and smiled. “Would you mind?”
“Of course not.”
So, a few minutes later, you were strolling around the city towards your company building. The streets were rather calm, surprisingly, and the little noise there was simply made your surroundings the more welcoming. Today was just perfect.
“We can stop playing pretend, you know?”
His voice caught you off guard. “Come again?”
“You understood me the first time, Y/N,” he breathed out, stopping on his tracks. “How long are we going to keep pretending you and I aren’t something more than just a public relationship? Because, I'll keep going.”
You were out of words, speechless. How could he say something of that sort in such a bold way? You never had the time to think if this would go any further, mainly because you avoided the thought the times it did pop up in your brain. Chan was never the man you'd take interest in, even less in a romantic manner. Not only that, but you had very strong negative feelings towards him not so long ago. But again, the evening strolls with him were always something you looked forward to. The way he'd make the stupidest joke was both something that annoyed you and cheered you up. His crazy sudden dates filled you with adrenaline as you couldn’t wait to see what prepared just for you.
And the kiss at the sleepover. The way he looked so beautiful in the dim light. The softness of his lips that you still think of from time to time to this day. The gently cuddles he gave you the next morning while eating your breakfast…
“I doubt we've been playing pretend this whole time,” you said in a small voice, taking a step towards him.
He took a step closer as well. “Have we not?”
“I don’t think so…”
Crash.
In the middle of the sidewalk, not a care in the world, you were kissing him once again.
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“Sunghoon?”
The latter jumped up from his seat, straightening his posture as Jisung arrived at his front desk with a smile plastered on his face. “How can I help you, Mr. Han?”
“There is a last-minute appointment this morning with Miss Park Yoonchae.”
Sunghoon looked at Chris' agenda before frowning. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm sure,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. “She'll be here at 10, you can send her over right away.”
“Important meeting, I see?”
“Depends of the outcome.”
And as told to Sunghoon, the woman dressed from head to toe in designer clothes was standing before him at ten o’clock sharp. As he would always do, he argued a bit with Yoonchae as she was not marked in Chan's schedule. Nonetheless, he did let her through when receiving a deathly glare from Jisung across the room.
“Mr. Bang should review his front desk staff,” Yoonchae muttered under her breath before coming up to Jisung with her innocent eyes. “Hannie! It's been a while!”
“It has.”
“Is Christopher available right now?” she asked while the man was escorting her to the big boss' office.
“If it isn’t, it must be for an emergency. Otherwise, he’s here,” Jisung affirmed, opening the door wide for the girl to walk in.
Chan was there. Only, he was not alone. Not only was Changbin sitting comfortably across him, but so was Minho. Both of the men turned around at the sound of someone entering and frowned when they took notice of Yoonchae.
“Oh, it was today, wasn’t it?” Chan asked as if the answer was not obvious already. “Yoonchae, right?”
“The one and only,” she smiled, even if her displeasure was evident.
“I apologize for my unprofessionalism; I swear it was not intentional. I can see you next week, if that works for you.”
“No.”
“Oh, well-"
“I didn’t come here today for no reason,” she sighed out, walking up to his desk. “I have an offer.”
“Miss, we're kind of in the middle of-" Changbin began but was quickly shut.
“I'm sure you can wait ten minutes or so.”
Chan and Minho exchanged looks before the latter nodded and gestured for his friend to follow him outside the room. Satisfied, Yoonchae smirked at the boys as she took their latest seats, sprawling her coat on the chair next to her. Jisung sent a thumbs up to Chan, and closed the door.
“What did you come here for?” Chan questioned in a forced way.
“Ad you may know, I have a very influential presence in the media.”
“I am aware; proof of it being the atrocious review you made of my wife and I's products.”
“I have millions of followers,” she went on to say, ignoring Chan’s remark. “Many of which could become potential customers of your brand.”
“What are you getting to?”
“I want to become an ambassador of Bahng Fragrances.”
The first reaction of Chan was to scoff out a laugh. There was no way the person who bashed on every beauty item she found would want to work with him. However, when her face remained unchanged, his own smile fell.
“You were serious.”
“Very serious.”
“I'm afraid I can’t do this.”
It was her turn to scoff. “Mr. Bahng, in all due respect, I think you have no choice.”
“My company's success does not rely on your reviews. An even better reason to refuse is the way you treated my wife.”
“I have nothing but respect for your relationship, but let’s be honest here. You are not actually together.”
Chan shook his head in disbelief. “How can you make such an assumption?”
“Because Jisung told me.”
In the split of a second, Chan froze in place. Either she was playing with him, or she was telling the truth.
“Jisung would never do that.”
“Oh, but I have text messages at hands to prove it. I can post them online whenever I please,” she giggled, holding her phone up high. “So? How about we work together, Mr. Bang?”
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Copyright © 2024 skzhua. All rights reserved.
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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year ago
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Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')
A Good Father
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Ghost x Wife!Reader
Ghost is anxious about being a father.
SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble
Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^
Masterlist
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It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.
It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.
He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.
When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.
There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.
At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...
...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.
A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...
Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?
Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.
But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.
The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.
It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.
Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...
Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.
You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.
Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.
It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.
"Do you think I'd make a good father?"
The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.
"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"
He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."
"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."
Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"
"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"
You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.
"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"
Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.
"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.
"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."
"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."
"The news?"
"Your first step into motherhood."
You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"
"I found the pregnancy test."
You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"
The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."
You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.
"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...
"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"
"...Wha'?"
"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."
Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"
"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."
No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.
It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.
"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."
You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.
"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."
You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.
"You'd make a beautiful mother."
"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."
Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.
"We're not getting any younger."
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flurry-of-beaus-pop-pop · 1 month ago
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Agatha All Along Finale Thoughts:
The Final Trial is Rio's:
First and foremost, there's the obvious... when they complete the trial in the tower and the door opens, the veins leading to the next trial are green (Rio's color as THE Green Witch) and there is a very clear "R" in one of those veins.
Beyond that, I think that for the purpose of this journey, Billy is serving as familiar (witch's companion) and is therefore, not being considered as a witch, which is why he himself does not have a trial.
When it comes to the focus of this trial, I think that it is going to, to some extent, revolve around Rio and having to put the job first over her own desire, having to hurt the people (Agatha) she loves to do the job, and learning how to find some sort of balance (while I don't think it will happen, this could be an interesting place to introduce Alice as a spirt, to explore how maybe, at times, if someone dies for the right reasons, they can be saved). Part of me that makes me think this may be the route this trial takes, is the fact that when Rio showed up at Agatha's house with pizza, she essentially made a statement about how women in powerful jobs don't have time for a personal life, and so for Rio to find some sort of balance between her job as Death and her life as Rio, would be so satisfying. (Alternatively, they may go the route of some sort of acceptance scenario, where Rio has to come to peace with what she has had to do, specifically regarding Agatha and Nicholas, but that's boring).
I also think that this is when we are going to see Alice again, that we will gain some insight into what Rio actually does once someone dies to potentially shed some more light on the internal battle she has.
The Final Trial is Also a Final Test For The Others:
While there are theories out there that when you accomplish and achieve what you sought on the road, you then die, this doesn't necessarily make sense in the grand scheme of things... why would you immediately die after being rewarded with something?
For most that walk the road, I think that the presence of Death is simply to be a motivator to keep them moving forward - "I stray not from the path, Death's hand in mind"; "a door appears, it's time to go" combined with Lilia's statement about how when you complete a trial, it's not a good idea to overstay your welcome, as terrible things happen - all of these point to their being a sense of moving forward, and making sure you don't stray from the path.
When it comes to this specific group, however, I think that Rio's presence as both a member of the coven as the Green Witch and Death itself, complicates things, especially if the focus of Rio's trial is her having to overcome something related to her being Death... based on the fact that Agatha, Jen, and Billy all wake up in body bags in what appears to be a morgue, I think that this is exactly what happens... that because Rio has to confront whatever issues her role as Death brings, Agatha, Jen, and Billy also have to confront Death, but I think their confrontation is going to be less about having to confront their mortality, and moreso having to confront the things they have not confronted yet, or be faced with the potential of death (i.e. stray not from the path, refusing to confront their issues is straying from the path).
So then what do each of them have to face?
Jen: While Jen has released herself from being bound and has her powers back, there's clearly a reluctance to fully embrace her powers to their fullest extent. We know that Lilia tells Jen that she is the path forward, and so I think that there is going to be an element of her confrontation with Rio that forces her to embrace her full potential to save herself, Agatha, and Billy, allowing her to successfully complete the road and escape it (ref: her climbing out of a hole in what appears to be Westview)
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Billy: While Billy claims to be on the road with the intention of finding Tommy, I think his Tarot reading with Lilia reveals his true desire... to figure out whether or not he is Billy, William, or both. This aligns with the scene where Agatha is clutching his head. I believe that she is helping him merge his identities and that once he does, he will successfully complete the road and will be shunted out.
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Agatha: Nicholas, and reconciling what happened with her son and with Rio, is obviously what Agatha has to face. From episode one, it has been clear that she has been running from this, first in Rio quite literally accusing her of hiding behind dark magic, and then in the form of her continuing to refuse to talk about him, her seeing the Darkhold in his bassinet instead of him during the first trial, and his name being the final punishment in her trial.
Of course, because Agatha is Agatha, and because this is her television show, her portion of this test doesn't go as smoothly as the others. We see in the mid-season teaser, that the morgue-like room seems to collapse and/or some sort of magical effect happens. What this magical effect is, I'm not sure... it could be a product of Agatha refusing to face her issues, but it could also be the product of whatever Billy is doing in the picture of him standing on top of the door to the road, casting the hex - I'm still not entirely convinced that there is not some sort of twist involving Billy and that he is going to betray Agatha in some way, something like making her think he trust her so she helps him and lets him go first, and then he traps her in the road.
Regardless of why Agatha runs, what matters is that Agatha runs... the entire purpose of this final test is facing what you need to face, and so even if what she needs to face shifts to a degree, she still runs from it. This leads us to the next part of this episode... Agatha and Rio's confrontation...
Agatha and Rio's Confrontation
The powers that be, or at least those responsible for creating the teasers and releasing the promo pictures, are trying very hard to make it look like Rio is going to betray Agatha. I do not think that this is going to happen, at least not in the true sense of the word, because there is no reason for Rio to betray Agatha.
So what actually happens?
Well, I think the more likely scenario is that when Agatha runs (again), that pisses Rio off, because when all is said and done, Agatha refusing to acknowledge/confront what happened also means that Rio is unable to address it/receive any sort of closure over it, something that she very clearly still needs based on their fight in the first episode and the "she's my scar" conversation.
And so this causes them to fight - because let's be real, that's their love language - both quite literally forcing Agatha to have to face what she is running from in the form of the women she loves who took her son away and forcing Rio to face the fact that once again, she may have to hurt Agatha in order to do her job.
Ultimately, because I truly do not believe that Jac or those involved with this show, are looking for a devastating ending or are looking to kill off lesbians, they will achieve this understanding, allowing Rio to successfully achieve her trial, and allowing Agatha to get her full powers back and successfully leave the road.
The end?
Not quite yet... there's one more twist coming
The Actual Ending
While I am confident that there is going to be some sort of twist AFTER Rio's trial, I am back and forth between two potential scenarios:
Salem Seven: As pointed out by many ever since the end of episode 7, it appears as if only 5 of the 7 of the Salem Sisters died when Lilia flipped the tower. If this is the case, I believe that they could come back at the end, and that Rio and Agatha, or Rio, Agatha, Jen, and Billy, or any combination of the four, may have to face off against them, giving us that quintessential face off once they all have their powers - based on the fact that the Salem Seven were described as being a far bigger threat than they actually appeared to be and seemed to be killed off without any sort of fuss - I believe that this is the more likely scenario
Billy: There's just something off about Billy... and there are some things that are off about the road/things that have been hinted along the way that make me think that there might be some sort of twist coming in the form of either Billy creating/manipulating the road (i.e. it's exactly how I imagined it, taking notes in his spellbook on individual needing to be unbound before being bound again, the emphasis on revenge and betrayal, his unwillingness to believe/trust Agatha) OR Billy making the decision to attempt to trap Agatha on the road (i.e. the image of him casting a hex on the door of the road) - if this is the case, I think that once Agatha does get out of the road (because let's face it, Billy's powers are no comparison to Agatha's), there. may be some sort of battle between him and Agatha, mirroring the final battle between Wanda and Agatha in Wandavision... how this resolves itself, I'm not sure, but could see any combination of scenarios including Billy fleeing, Billy or Agatha being trapped again (because literally the idea of Westview thinking they are finally free only for them not to be is hilarious), Agatha and Rio being trapped together (I think this is highly unlikely but would be a really good way to give us that domestic Agathario spinoff!)
The End... For Real!
But no, please read this and please come talk to me about your thoughts because it took me two hours to put this together and it will be sad if no one talks to me about it 😂
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schrodinger-swriter · 10 months ago
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I saw you were doing a fluff alphabet! Hmmm, how about C, E, I, J, M and F for Vox?
C, E, I, J, M, F for Vox
Another character that I am at the moment to grasp onto, in terms of understanding characteristics and writing them.. but nonetheless I am willing to take a crack at writing him! I hope you enjoy, Anon, and I personally give you permission to smite me if this is too OOC!/lh
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CUDDLING:
Cuddling him is... odd... I enjoy the idea that his body constantly has a faint buzz.. though most of the time when he's not experiencing high energy or emotion, it's hardly noticeable. He prefers being the big spoon, oftentimes pulling you close with your back to him. Sometimes the soft vibrations of his body is soothing, so be sure to take any moment you can to initiate a cuddle session!
EMOTION:
Going off of how he reacts when hearing Alastor's return, he can be prone to losing control of himself every now and then. Though, I think that's more so in line with his annoyance and anger rather than all his emotions. He seems like the type to want to come off as.. casual.. in a relationship. He may be devoted to you, but rarely does he drop his walls and allow himself to be completely raw with you. Sometimes he may become irritable when he's been made to examine changing trends so he can best pin point how to promote himself and his tech, though... may become a little snappy.. but in terms of affection.. He wouldn't pour his heart out, but he wouldn't shut you out. Perfectly average in this regard.
FAMILY:
Unfortunately, sinners cannot reproduce so having biological children is out of the question. He doesn't much care for children, anyway. He seems like the type to think about being a father, and idealizing it, but not going through with having the child because of work. It sounds sad when it's put like that, but is it exactly wrong? He's so caught up in maintaining the image of the Vees and keeping his own company afloat that outside of the fantasy here and there, he doesn't want children.
INJURY:
It's here he would exercise his status as an overlord and as one of the Vees, by putting an end to whoever had the nerve to injure you. Actually, if it's public knowledge that you and him are together most sinners would know better than to cross you, especially if they aren't an overlord themselves. When it comes to actually interacting with you, I think he would make sure you receive the very best care that money and power can provide, ensuring your recovery is smooth and swift. He may be a little emotionally distant, but that's only because he's beside himself with rage at the nerve of whoever harmed you.
If he's the one injured I think it would play out similarly. Assuming he doesn't deal with the person himself. Wouldn't play up his pain, or down play it either. He would not want to be babied, and he might try to get back to work as soon as possible. After all, trends are ever changing and fleeting. He can't bare the idea of falling behind and possibly being overtaken by a certain radio demon.
JEALOUSY:
He gets jealous... a lot, and when he does things can get ugly. A lot of times it results in him trying to show off and prove why he's better than the other person, and why he's more worthwhile. His screen tends to bug out and buffer while trying to turn the situation into his favor. With Vox it's best not to 'test' him and make him jealous on purpose, unless you're comfortable with the fact that Vox is going to try to run the other person into the ground. Be it literally or with their reputation. Definitely the type to physically pull you away from someone and take you to his side.
MARRIAGE:
Going off of the above and the Injured segment, I think he would make it clear to everyone in Hell that the two of you are an item. A package deal. A couple. If it means having to put a ring on you to put it through everyone's skulls that you're his and his alone, then he might just consider it. Sees it more as a power move of sorts rather than a commitment, whether that causes it's own set of issues is up to you!
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago
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AITA for purposely violating boundaries that weren't communicated in order to test a friend?
My friend (32F) has this habit of bottling things up until she can't take it anymore, then blows up. It's a complete disaster. Anyway, I (27F) didn't know that until it happened. We had been friends for half a year, and she blew up at me for, idk 🤷‍♀️ to this day, I have no idea what she was mad about because she spoke very vaguely about what bothered her because she didn't even remember it, from the bits I comprehended, I assumed she was upset about my sense of humor, and wrote a whole AITA about that because she didn't previously mind my jokes at all and engaged with them. The final verdict was ESH, but does it matter if it turned out she's mad about something else?
Anyway, we made up but we set boundaries between us. One of her boundaries was not to joke like that in front of coworkers, but she said it was okay to do it in private. And I made her promise that she stops bottling things up and tell me immediately when somethings bothers her, because in many cases, turned out most of the things that upset her were misunderstandings. And in case it's not a misunderstanding, I need her to let me know so I can stop these behaviors.
Anyway, I knew some certain jokes bothered her, so I didn't make them again even if it was just the two of us, despite her supposedly being okay with it. Instead, I changed my sense of humor completely. I made sure not to use insults as a joke. Thing like, "you're going to drink milk, aren't you?" "If you bring milk to my counter I won't bill it" because she's lactose intolerant and keeps drinking milk and regretting it later. And things like "wear your seatbelt because if I get a ticket for it you're the one who's gonna pay it" (we carpool in my car)
However, since it was a misunderstanding and that the jokes themselves aren't exactly what upset her, I ended up making her mad again simply by interacting with her normally. She broke her promise by not communicating with me, however, this time I was very attentive of her reactions and body language that I started seeing patterns. I knew exactly how she laughs things off and starts joking around when she's in fact, angry. and I made a mental note of the things that made her react that way. They were things like, telling her I care about her, reminding her of things she forgot (without joking about how forgetful she is), asking her questions to understand her more as a person and attempt small talk, mundane things like that that I assume she took the wrong way. This continued on for 2 months.
Personally if she wanted me to stop, I will, even if I find nothing wrong with it, but I continued on purpose because I wanted her to communicate like she promised she would.I could theoretically be the one to communicate, but I refrained this time since I was already questioning if this friendship was worth it. It's tiring being the only one to communicate all the time, so I tested her by violating those "boundaries" to see if she was going to say something. Her last straw was when I told her I care about her health and she need to rest instead of waiting for me to finish my work by standing behind me, which bothered her, even though she complains about back pain after a long shift. To make things clear, she wasn't even standing behind me to talk with me or anything, she just did it for no reason when she was supposed to wait for me by the exit which has seats she could rest on. Apparently she insisted she was just waiting for me, which had me confused since she never did that before, and I asked her "why?" and she blew up at me for making her "sit alone" when she wanted to "talk with the girls" even though she never said that. She said she was just waiting for me? She could've explained and I would understand instead of lying and blaming me for not understanding what she wanted to do.
She ended up blowing up at me again because she "told me to stop these sort of things" even though she literally didn't and I was waiting for her to explain why she doesn't accept these behaviors, she was angry to the point of not wearing her seat belt 10 minutes prior getting home and opening the door before the car stopped to get out. Lucky for us it was nearly 2 AM and the street was empty, otherwise she would've caused a serious accident. The area she lives in is very dangerous to drive in and she admits that.
She never spoke to me again and I thought good riddance.
(Additional information: this friend is too attached to me, despite what this post might indicate. She's more interested in making this friendship work than I am, but isn't taking the initiative to communicate and expects me to magically read her mind. She avoid communication like the plague and blames me when things aren't working between us. That's why I made her promise to communicate with me in the first place, she could have refused but she didn't because i would end the friendship otherwise.)
TDLR: My friend promised to let me know if certain behaviors bothered her, but she didn't keep her promise. I picked up on what behaviors bother her becauseI learned how she pretends something doesn't bother her. But because I wanted her communicate, I didn't stop in order to test her but instead she ended up endagering our lives in her anger. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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shanastoryteller · 8 months ago
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happy birthday!
can I request some more hokage's daughter or marrying rich please? or anything else Naruto!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5
The first part of the exam is a joke.
Sort of literally, because thanks to Naruto the Konoha Twelve all know the real purpose of the test, but also because Sasuke is able to answer all of these questions without even cheating. He knows Naruto can too, and the only reason Sakura even passed is that her theoretical knowledge is so advanced that it carried her past her mediocre ninjutsu and truly abysmal taijutsu, so this is a walk in the park for her.
Hinata, Neji, and Shikamaru are able to answer on their own as well and everyone else had already decided on their cheating strategy beforehand. The answers might not really matter, but they have to keep up appearances here.
When they get to the Forest of Death, Naruto leads them up to the trees, then says, “I’d ask if you were followed, but I figure you’d find that insulting.”
Sasuke has no idea what she’s talking about until the air next to her shimmers and then Itachi is sitting there. “You insult me all the time.”
“Aniki?” he asks incredulously, then glares at Naruto. “I hate when you don’t tell me the whole plan.”
Sakura pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.
She shrugs. “He’s just backup. Just in case. Remember-”
“Keep an eye on Gaara, don’t let him kill any Konoha shinobi, and if he looks like he’s loosing control or if I need backup, send a clone,” Itachi says. “Are you going to tell me why you’re so worried about Gaara in particular? He’s got a high death count, but that’s not exactly unusual.”
At least she hasn’t told Itachi everything either.
“You can trust him,” Sasuke says, even though Naruto knows that, even though he wouldn’t be here if she did it.
Even with those she trusts, it’s hard for her to lay all her card on the table, to trust them with everything. In a lot of ways, she trusts her parents. But she doesn’t tell them – well, most things.
Naruto looks away guiltily, then gives a short nod, but doesn’t say anything.
Sasuke sighs. “He’s like Naruto.”
Itachi is a genius. He understands what he’s saying immediately and his eyes widen. “That’s not in his file.”
If Itachi doesn’t know, then Minato probably doesn’t either. He would have told his Anbu. Sasuke knows that Naruto had worried that he’d hid it from her deliberately.
“I could be wrong,” Naruto says, even though she’s not, even though she wouldn’t be this worried and going to this much effort if she doubted herself at all. “He’s not exactly like me though.”
“His seal,” Itachi says. “It doesn’t keep them completely separate like yours does?”
Sasuke keeps his expression relaxed from years of practice.
“Right,” she says. “So don’t try and fight him head on, okay? We’ll help you.”
Itachi presses his lips together then nods, disappearing in a swirl of leaves.
“Come on,” Sakura says, “the sooner everyone else collects a scroll, the sooner we can get to the tower ourselves.”
Naruto nods, forming the Ram and a half dozen copies of his best friend pop into existence.
Meeting up with everyone would draw too much attention to themselves and splitting up to keep an eye on the teams is asking for trouble. Luckily, Naruto’s shadow clones are able to bridge that gap.
Not that she’s supposed to know how to do those, but Sasuke has lost count of the number of Naruto’s secrets he’s keeping.  
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johnwickb1tsch · 9 months ago
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 28 all chapters
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⚠⚠Trigger warning: mention of past terminated pregnancy, NOT Reader. If details of this will bother you skip the section that starts with “One day he lets you sit in as he repairs a tattered copy of The Wind In The Willows.” You can pick up again at “-He gives you run of the house.”  I’ll give you the brief gist of the plot point in the end notes.  Also mention of possible suicide, NOT Reader.
-As he prepares dinner you sit at the island, you are enjoying a glass of wine and watching him cook. His hands are like poetry, no matter the task at hand. He is slicing peppers, and offers you a piece from across the island. After your previous experience, you should be wary accepting any tidbit that color from this man, but in an act of trust you take it, your lips brushing the tips of his fingers.
It is sweet and crisp and juicy between your teeth, and you sigh to yourself.
This is what you could have had, all along.
Watching you with a small smile, he twirls the knife in his hand absently like it is an extension of his body.
You do not take it as a threat. He simply seems…content, and you wonder if you dare trust any of this at face value.
He goes back to cooking, and you watch him with your wine in hand. It is a tasty Cabernet from Chilé, and maybe you shouldn’t drink too much of it, but then again…what do you have to lose at this point?
Your eyes cast around the cavernous room while John bustles at the stove. The scene is so domestic you could cry, because you realize this is what you’d hoped to share with him before it all went to hell.
You cast your eyes down, to find the razor-sharp Japanese paring knife is now sitting in the middle of the island by the cutting board, easily within reach.
It's really the first mistake he's made in the keeping of you, since he let his guard down enough to let you whomp him with War and Peace.
You stare at it, thinking.
Is it an opportunity? What exactly would you do with it, that would achieve any sort of useful end? It hits you like a ton of bricks for some reason, when you realize that despite what he’s done to you, you have zero interest in hurting John.
You hadn’t even liked hitting him with a book.
The thought of stabbing him makes you physically ill.
Frowning at the thought, you cross your arms and sit back on the stool, glaring at the thing as though it had called you a filthy name.
Belatedly, you realize John is watching you from over at the stove.
It wasn’t a mistake.
It was a test.
You transfer your glare to him as he approaches, picking up the tiny but potentially deadly blade.
He says nothing, just washes and dries it before replacing it in the knife block, not the locked drawer.
You guess you passed.
-Later, over dinner, he asks, “Why didn't you pick it up?” 
“Because the thought of hurting you makes me sick.”
He actually smirks at you. “That’s nice to hear.”
You’re not sure if he’s baiting you on purpose, but your temper starts to rise. So much for a quiet evening.
“That’s not how I’m going to get out of here,” you declare, feeling brave.
Or stupid.
Hearing this amuses him heartily.
“Yeah?”
“Someday, you're going to let me go, because you'll realize it's the right thing to do.” 
He leans his elbows on the table, fixing you with that dark stare that pins you in your seat. “I already told you, kitten, I'm never going to let you go.” He says it sweetly this time, but you sense he is still absolutely serious in his conviction.
-The week that follows is a series of halcyon days, filled with the affection and attention from Mr. Wick that you'd craved all along. Something has shifted in him, and you're still not sure exactly what, or how to make it stay.
 You cook meals together in the mornings and evenings. He teaches you things about haute cuisine and international dishes that you'd never had any inkling or access to. The things you make for dinner some nights you've only heard of on tv or in magazines. He's tasted these things in their original countries, and tells you what stories he can, that don't involve disclosing the details of multiple homicides committed for astronomical pay.
You know he must be showing off for you. A man with a waistline like that does not eat like this regularly. A small part of you dares to wonder, is he actually trying to woo you?
You fill your days with time in the studio, and with him.
The brightly colored Dolce and Gabbana sundresses you’d coveted in Italy mysteriously start appearing at the foot of the bed every day. Floral prints in pink and red, and bright majolica-inspired designs with yellow acanthus curls and blue accents, as well as the dreamy azure and white azulejo tile patterns. You marvel at what he spent, to lay these at your feet. You don’t even care that he’s picking out your outfits, dressing you like a feminine doll—because they make you happy. You even go so far as to wear them in your studio, not caring if you get a smudge of paint or pastel on the brightly printed fabric. What does it matter now?
What does anything matter?
-One day he lets you sit in as he repairs a tattered copy of The Wind In The Willows. You discover he likes old children’s books best and he has dozens on his shelves. Something about missing out on a real childhood of his own, you reckon, and undoubtedly the artistry that went into them.
This is the day he tells you that he was almost a father himself once. That when he’d been a foolish young man (his words), he’d fallen in love with one of the ballerinas at the school for assassins where he’d been raised. When the inevitable this led to that with hormone-charged youths with no access to birth control, they planned to run away together.
He’d wanted nothing more at that time, but to just live a simple life with his little family. He just knew in his heart, that the baby would be a girl. He’d already named her, Irina, his little Irinushka. But the night they meant to leave they were intercepted by the other students, and separated by The Director of the school. Tatiana was forced to terminate her pregnancy, because a principal ballerina bearing baby weight was of no use to The Theater at all.
When finally they were allowed to see each other young fire-eyed Jardani wanted to try to leave again. He was willing to kill anyone who got in their way this time, brothers or not. But Tatiana was changed, a shadow of the girl he’d known, and she refused to go with him. She said it had all been a stupid mistake, and he heard the Director’s indoctrination echoing through his lover’s mouth. She began numbing her pain with pills, and wouldn’t stop, despite his pleading. She pushed him away, and a year later she died in a car crash during a mission running drugs across the city. John never knew if it had been an accident, or if she’d given up to the sorrow eating at her heart.
He tells you all this in quiet, almost impersonal tones as he weaves the kettle stitch binding on the book, as though it happened to someone else. The man he had been, you suppose, this Jardani Jovonovich. You imagine what he must have been like as a young man. You suspect he must have been heartbreakingly beautiful, and probably could have had women eating out of his palm and tucking their panties into his pocket at every turn.
Yet, all he’d really wanted was his little ballerina, and his baby Irinushka.
He did leave The Theater soon after, to become the notorious Baba Yaga, the infamous assassin John Wick who could kill three men with naught but a pencil. You listen to all this with horror and tears in your eyes, feeling as though your own heart has been run through a shredder, understanding even further exactly why this steadfast man finally cracked to pieces.
You doubt your own state of mind could have fared so well, for so long.
-He gives you run of the house, reasoning correctly that you won’t be able to get past the locks and bulletproof windows anyway. One day, when you cannot find him, you wander into the garage.  He is tinkering with his motorcycle, in a grease stained white t-shirt and ratty jeans that cross the wires in your brain a little. 
The sight of the machine fills your heart with what is perhaps an irrational amount of hope.
“Can we go for a ride?” you ask, thinking of that perfect day you once spent together. You have not been outside once since returning to Clear Forks, though you can tell from looking out the window that you've had a series of beautiful sunny days. They’re a thing not to be wasted in the mountains; fall will come quickly, and then winter before you can blink.
“Not today, sweetheart,” he sighs, actually sounding apologetic, wiping his hands on a rag.
You pout silently, but do not push the issue. You are learning to pick your battles. If you keep poking here and prodding there, someday, you will find a weakness to exploit. You must be patient.
When he is sweet to you, patience is not so difficult to come by. You know that is dangerous, but not quite what to do about it.   
The garage is a massive space, and you take the opportunity to look around. You should be scoping out possible tools for escape, but mostly...you're just curious. 
Is he succeeding in training you? You ask yourself this with what should be an alarming amount of detachment.
Looking past the Land Rover in the middle bay, you see something underneath a cover. Feeling emboldened by his mild mood that day, you walk over to peek underneath. 
The sight makes a quiet exclamation slip from your lips. 
“Is this the car?”
It is a matte gray Mustang with subtle black racing stripes. You don't know much about classic cars, but it looks fast as hell. 
“The car?”
You turn to find he is directly behind you. You didn't hear or sense him move at all. You wonder belatedly if maybe this is a sore spot you should have left well alone. 
“Um...never mind.”
“It's OK. You like classics?” 
“I...guess? It’s very pretty.”
He pulls off the cover, unveiling the machine in all its glory. “It’s a ’69 Boss 429. 375 horsepower, 450 pound-foot of torque.” 
You smile, having no inkling what that really means, but you can tell it makes him happy. 
“Can we take this for a ride?”
Luckily, he just chuckles at your transparency. 
“Maybe.” It would be harder for you to escape from a car, than from off the back of the bike, after all. He kisses your forehead, not replacing the cover, before going back to the bike. 
Somewhat heartened, you wander back up to your studio.
-On the third day, you start to dream about Helen.
It’s actually nothing new for you, communing with the dead through your dreams. You’ve never really thought it more than your own overactive imagination, visiting with your grandmother or your great uncles, even sometimes an old boyfriend who had since passed away. But this feels like something more, and frankly, it gives you the creeps.
At first, you are simply sitting together, an uncomfortable silence between the two of you. You can hardly blame her—you are fucking her husband, after all, if not entirely of your own choice.
But one night, she comes to you in a field of daisies. Extending one to you, she offers you a tired if not slight smile. There is a pleading in her caramel-colored eyes, and maybe regret too. She only says two words. “I’m sorry.” You wake with the haunted feeling that she knows she made him into this version of himself with the trauma of her loss, but she’s still passing the keeping of him on to you.
What does she want you to do? Save him? You start to cry quietly to yourself, because the dangerous man who was her husband is laying asleep behind you with his arms tight around you like you are his teddy bear, and you don’t know how.
.
.
Author’s note: The general gist of the TW section was that young John/Jardani and one of the ballerinas became pregnant and were going to run away from the Tarkovsky theatre. But they got caught and The Director wouldn’t allow it. She separated them, made Ballerina terminate the pregnancy, and Ballerina died the next year possibly of suicide.  Obviously, this left an impression on John.
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runscold-runsdeep · 7 months ago
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Squeeze
Terzo X Omega - Dark Cardiophilia
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Warnings/disclaimers: dark cardiophilia, fluff-ish, arguing, near death experience, heart failure, arithmetic heartbeat, demonic magic induced injury, Google Translate Italian for one phrase.
Word count: 800+
///Author’s note
I finally got it written!!! It’s short, and probably undeserving of a banner that took too much effort to make, but I wanted to scrub off the rust and get back into the swing of things. I’m gonna be adding a tag list to my fics from now on, so be sure to let me know if you want on!
🫀⸸⛧⸸🫀
The room was dark, the only light being the flicker of the TV displaying a horror film with Terzo scooted as close to Omega as he could, the mortal being curled up into the demon’s side. Omega enjoyed this closeness though, wrapping an arm around Terzo to keep him cozy. Despite the volume of the TV not being turned down low and Omega not having his ear pressed against Terzo's chest, he could still hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, occasionally quickening in response to the suspenseful moments in the movie.
Unable to resist the urge, Omega slid his hand down to Terzo’s chest, feeling the gentle, rhythmic beat of his heart against his palm, which made Terzo smile and lean closer to him. Despite his best efforts to concentrate on the movie playing in front of them, something about Terzo’s heart in that moment kept drawing his attention away. A sort of curiosity was nagging at him.
Ever since he was summoned and his natural talents for healing and caretaking were discovered, he found himself dedicating most of his spare time in The Ministry’s infirmary whenever he wasn’t with Ghost or alone with Terzo. The infirmary became a sort of sanctuary, a place where he could learn about the intricacies of the human body and its many ailments. However, amidst all the knowledge he was gaining, there were curiosities that lingered in his thoughts, and one of those questions kept pushing itself to the forefront of his mind. What happened if a heart was squeezed?
He tried to push this thought away once more. He would never test such a thing on his partner of all people. He would rather be sent to the ruthless hounds of Hell than to purposely hurt Terzo to answer such a ridiculous question… But at the same time, he also wanted to know how exactly Terzo’s heart specifically would react to such a thing. As he thought over this dilemma, his mind was clouded with conflict. On one hand, he felt a sense of guilt for even considering such a cruel experiment. On the other hand, curiosity gnawed at him, and whatever damage was done to his heart, he could always reverse it.
A purple light in the corner of Terzo's eye caught his attention, forcing his eyes away from the TV to look in the light's direction. Omega's hand was in a grasping position, aglow like ignited hand sanitizer. As Terzo's gaze lingered on the mysterious light, his lips parted to question Omega, but all that escaped was a wince. As Omega’s talons closed, a tightness formed in Terzo’s chest and a sharp pain began to shoot through his jaw and arm. As he felt his heart begin to stumble, his eyes widened, realizing now what Omega was doing. The sound of his pounding heart filled the room, drowning out all other noise as fear and confusion clouded his mind.
“O…Omega..!” Terzo gasped out, clutching at his chest and watching helplessly as Omega's claws tightened their grip around his heart, slowly squeezing it with his demonic powers, “Omega, s—stop!” He leaned against the ghoul, the pain and his failing heart causing his consciousness to wane.
And at once, Omega did, letting go of Terzo's heart and placing his large hand on the mortal's chest, taking in the pain he had inflicted. His own heart started to falter and ache now as he absorbed the injuries that had once belonged to Terzo.
Terzo closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he took in several deep breaths, trying to regulate his heart and his nerves before his eyes shot open, his head jerking to face his partner, glaring at him. “Tu... Tu fottuto idiota!” He exclaimed, “Wh—What the hell came over you?! You almost… you could have fucking killed me!”
Omega, who more than expected this reaction from Terzo, sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do that?” Terzo pressed his hand to his chest, as if trying to reassure himself that his heart was still beating.
Omega shrugged. “I was curious.”
“…You were curious.” Terzo repeated as he blinked at the demon, as stunned as he was furious. “You tried to kill me just to satisfy some curiosity?!”
“I mean,” Omega exhaled, pausing to choose his his words, “I wasn’t trying to kill you—“
Terzo glared at the ghoul, his white eye bearing a more intense coldness than it normally did, which made Omega cower just slightly.
“…I—I, uh… I wasn’t gonna push you that far. I was gonna stop before you reached that point. And I did.” Omega stammered, averting his gaze from Terzo’s.
Terzo huffed, shaking his head slightly as he curled back up with the demon, snuggling up against him. “Just… warn me next time you try something stupid like that.” He grumbled, “And look, I've missed a part of the movie because of you!” He complained, which forced a small chuckle from Omega as he pulled Terzo close.
“Want me to rewind it?” Omega offered, nuzzling his nose against the top of Terzo’s head.
“No, I’ll figure out what I missed later.” Terzo settled back into Omega’s hold as the ghoul draped his arm around him. Omega turned his attention back to the TV, feeling content at last even though his heart still throbbed and ached with an unsettling rhythm. He hoped that the discomfort would pass soon…
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ninaswritingstuff · 3 months ago
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One reason I haven't updated shifting priorities in well over a year is that I've been fixated on an AU of my AU in which Bernard is thrown into the mix.
Like, Tim has been so fixated on trying to clone Kon that he has pretty much completely ignored his body. That cloning tube and Kon's DNA are pretty much the only things he cares about. And he's tried and failed 99 times. He's running out of Kon's DNA, nothing has worked, so he gets an extra boost of desperation.
He uses his own DNA as a stabilizing agent.
So, fun thing about cloning is that it requires a donor egg. The genetic material of the egg itself is removed and replaced with the complete DNA of whatever you're trying to clone (don't quote me on this, this is my recollection/understanding of how they made Dolly).
Tim, who in this AU has the parts that would produce a human egg (trans!Tim or AOB, dealer's choice for the purposes of this run-down), decides he's going to cut out the middle man and use his own.
Only to find out that he's pregnant. It doesn't really click in his head until he's gotten his egg and already started the 100th attempt (forgetting to remove his DNA from the egg before adding in Kon's), so when it finally hits him, he's staring at a cloning tube with a (finally) viable embryo.
So he goes out and gets himself a pregnancy test, and this is where he crosses paths with Bernard. Bernard just kind of stumbles across him in the local CVS, and at first thinks he could try to reconnect and made shoot his shot, only to realize exactly where he's found Tim.
And never let it be said that Bernard Dowd is a coward.
So he squares up and heads over, and ends up basically being Tim's moral support for the remainder of the pregnancy. He had even planned to be in the delivery room with Tim when the baby was born (which didn't happen because the baby decided to arrive a month early and in the most traumatic way possible).
He's not actually expecting anything from Tim. Clearly, Tim's got enough on his plate, and he's clearly still not over whoever it was who got him knocked up. So Bernard's mostly just trying to be a good friend. And if something eventually develops, well. Bernard certainly won't complain.
Bernard was thrown for kind of a loop when Danny came along, but delayed twins are a thing, so...he just kind of rolls with it. It's Gotham. Weirder things have happened.
He puts a lot of time into helping Tim out with the not-twins, and maybe kind of starts to think of the kids as maybe sort of his. In, like, a dad-that-stepped-up kind of way. Bernard is honestly surprised by how down he's turned out to be for basically co-parenting with Tim.
They end up building up a working system over the next few months, with Bernard coming over after school to mind the kids so Tim could get so rest in. By the time the not-twins are a month old, Bernard's kind of...moved into Wayne Manor. In an unofficial capacity.
And just when things seem to have reached a sort of equilibrium, Bruce dies. Or, well, it seems pretty overt that he's dead. Bernard's been in the know (to an extent) since Tim brought Danny home, so when Tim tells him his theory about the portrait of Mordecai Wayne, Bernard (funky little conspiracy theorist that he is) believes him.
Tim ends up leaving Danny and Ellie in Bernard's care so he can go and hunt down enough proof to bring Bruce home, with encouragement from Bernard (and the condition that Tim maintains regular contact while gone). It's not easy, being a single parent to twins is even less easy, but Bernard fully believes that this is something Tim needs to do, and he was already pretty much done with school, so he doesn't have to worry about college until the fall.
BruceQuest occurs largely unchanged from canon, save for the fact that Tim is less passively suicidal throughout. And when Kon finds him in that sewer...well, Tim's half-convinced he's talking to a hallucination, so he mentions the not-twins.
After that encounter, Kon makes a bee-line for Gotham, and gets to meet the babies. One thing leads to another, and Kon and Bernard end up co-parenting while Tim's off saving Bruce's bacon.
When everything is handled and Tim's back home with Bruce not too far behind, the three of them end up having to have a discussion about what they're gonna do moving forward.
Endgame TimBerKon.
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