#no because how are people MARRIED ALREADY

[highvern]

Beggin' On My Knees

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi

warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink

Length: ~8k

Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane

summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.

You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.

You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.

You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.

You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.

Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.

Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.

As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 

After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.

After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 

While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.

Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.

Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?

That stupid bike.

It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.

Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 

It was fun. 

Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 

The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 

Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 

“What the fuck did he do this time?” 

He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 

You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.

You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 

Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 

“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 

“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”

Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.

You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.

The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.

Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”

He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”

“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”

You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks.

You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”

“He wasn’t a kid—” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”

He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.

The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.

“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.

Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 

Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.

“Get out,” you demand.

“What?”

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 

“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.

“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.

You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 

The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 

You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.

Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.

He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.

“I’m—”

You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 

“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 

“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.

“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”

“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”

“He already told me no.”

Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.

You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”

Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.

“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.

“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.

“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”

“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”

“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“

“It’s me or her.”

Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.

“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.

“Then prove it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 

He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 

“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”

“Go away.”

His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.

The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.

He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”

“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  

A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.

You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. Do you want some?”

He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 

“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.

He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.

“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 

“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”

“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“How do you feel?”

You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”

“He probably deserves that.”

“He definitely does.”

“And he deserves to sleep outside.”

“Yep,” you nod.

“But you still love him?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.

Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”

“No.”

“Leonardo.”

“No,” you giggle despite yourself.

“Raphael.”

“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”

“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”

“No.”

“Thanos.”

“Stop!”

“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me.”

You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”

The silence marinates between you. 

“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”

“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”

“You called me a loser.”

“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 

He looks away. “That’s fair.”

The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”

The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.

You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 

“You are.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Can I talk to it?”

“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.

He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 

“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”

You snort. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”

Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.

“So cool,” you tease.

Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”

You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“How?”

“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”

“I did say that, didn't I?”

You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”

“Apologizing.”

“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”

“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”

“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”

“You want it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.

“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”

“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”

“Oh, it’s a she now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Gonna take it all for me?”

Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Take your pants off.”

An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.

“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”

His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”

“We’re engaged, doofus.”

“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”

You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 

But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 

There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.

You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.

“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.

He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.

“Bedroom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.

Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.

“Want you on my mouth.”

You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 

You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 

Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.

You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.

It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.

He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 

Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..

“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”

Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.

The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.

“Call Jeonghan.”

His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”

“Call. Him,” you command. 

You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.

“Sell him the bike right now.”

“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.

You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 

Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 

“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.

You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.

“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.

You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.

“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.

Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 

Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.

“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 

“S-shit, don’t stop.”

His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 

He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.

Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 

“Oh god—there.”

Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.

“Did you just—”

Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.

“Shut up.”

“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.

You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 

“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”

“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m not sexy?”

“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”

“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.

“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”

He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 

“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 

“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”

You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.

“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”

Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”

You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.

“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”

“No condoms.”

“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”

Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Then get up here and do it.”

You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.

“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”

“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”

The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.

“Oh my god,” you echo. 

Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.

You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 

The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.

“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.

He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”

If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.

“Breed me.”

“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”

You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 

“Say it.”

“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”

“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”

Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”

“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.

Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.

“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”

The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.

“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.

You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.

“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”

You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.

It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 

Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”

“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  

“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”

“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”

“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”

Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

taglist: @/tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822

@futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin

@isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy @lukeys-giggle

@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee  @bokk-minnie

@cookiearmy  @moonlightwonu @kyeomofhearts

@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope

@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona

[lugiadepression]

So that's how native Hawaiians and native Americans, and everyone whom British fucked over, and now germans can fuck themselves too I guess. Palestinians too.

No. I don't want people coming here to marry toddler/children girls, mutilate baby boys, and rape women because womens are object to their people.

Counties are struggling enough to keep their infrastructure and everything from crashing already.

There are so many reasons why this shouldn't be allowed.

I feel bad for people struggling, but putting others into a bad/worse situation isn't/shouldn't be the answer you are looking for.

its so fucked up how difficult it is to move to another country you shouldn’t need a reason or anything you should be able to show up at the border and be like “the vibes were off back home” and they should let you in

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬 || 𝐢𝐧-𝐡𝐨 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟎𝟏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ short scenes of how in-ho thought he didn’t care about you, but he realized he actually did after seeing you almost overdose for doing drugs with Thanos and Namgyu.

warnings_ AGE GAP! (not specified), lots of restroom scenes lol, protective! in-ho, mild brat!reader, brat tamer!in-ho, reader ingests Thanos’ pills, blood, angst, fluff, slight canon divergence, NOT PROOFREAD

Notes_ I wish I had added more details to this one but I have been busy and I’m slightly drunk rn, sorry

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 lee byung-hun

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Ride or die, you heard once.

Even when you think you have it all, there’s still more to get.

Five days ago you were partying hard at some elite club, three days ago some asshole tried to poison you and now you were playing Korean children's games to death.

Player 153, you got. The green tracksuit unintentionally made your eyes highlight, as you had noticed the first time you visited the restrooms.

You knew what and where you were getting into. After all, your father was more than a big sponsor of the games. He wanted you to marry an asshole, and you flew away. He tried to kill you, the only option left was death or death. It was dramatic, but sadly the truth. Nobody was waiting for you outside of the deadly games.

Your gelish nails were surviving the whole thing. The bright burnt orange color matched the dress of the big doll of the first game. The cheeky asshole of Thanos befriended you because of that. Then you met Nam-gyu and there was some odd connection.

It never occurred to you that you would be recognized. Even when you were the only foreigner in the games of that year.

It was on your way back to bed when you met him.

Hwang In-ho melted into the crowds of players, ready to assume the role of player 001. He was alert to every single movement and was trying to hear everything that was said when he heard some annoying voices.

“And did you see how that asshole started screaming? Dude that was crazy!” When In-ho turned, he saw the mediocre rapper with purple hair shouting and moving like a little kid through the maze of pink stairs at his other assholes friends.

“STOP!” Namgyu mocked player 456, making Thanos initiate a horrendous rap verse about the first game.

And then a female laugh joined them.

“Say he’s telling the truth, Wouldn’t that be crazy?” In-ho gently dodged some people to get closer, and he ended up walking literally behind you.

All he could see was the back of a short woman, with nice legs and an attractive silhouette; In-ho almost rolled his eyes at the thought, already feeling stressed because he had lost sight of Gi-hun.

“You’re already on a trip, y/n-su” Thanos took you and Namgyu by the shoulders and the three of you started cackling like idiots.

Player 153, y/n….

In-ho couldn’t remember who exactly was said player. But there was something about your name that resulted oddly familiar to him. You were definitely a foreigner.

In-ho was almost convinced there was no report of a foreign player being recruited.

A bad omen settled in him.

…

The cold lights of the room make your head feel disoriented, but it’s an appealing feeling since you feel like you are lying in a big puffy cloud. Instead, you are actually laying your head in Nam-gyu’s lap while Thanos is seated on the other side of the bed, whispering and gossiping about the players.

“That fucking asshole over there is not going to last,” he said pointing at an old man who looked like he was in shock after the first game. And it’s not like you were insensible but everyone with a number embroidered on their tracksuit was supposed to read the agreement policies before playing. “Just look at him”

“More money for us!” Nam-gyu adds.

You didn’t need the money, you just wanted to make your father angry, to escape, to feel the rush of something that wasn’t running away while living in neglect.

“Nam-nam, don’t be like that!” You say, chuckling and nudging him in the stomach. He joins you and then Thanos and is just the three of you high as fuck. “I need a cig…”

“Me fucking too” Thanos agrees then looks back at the crowds. When he sees Lee Myung-gi, you know it’s over, Thanos will likely go to argue and Nam-gyu would follow and subsequently you.

And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

You roll your eyes, following the pair to the other side of the room.

“Guys! Leave him alone. He’ll likely die in the next game…” you argue, trying to get their attention. But the males are so invested in their stupid fight and you are so disoriented thanks to the drugs that you don’t see a man coming to separate them.

You only see the number 001 in the green jacket and soon the man ends up punching your friends.

“Hey, stop!” You try to interfere but it’s useless.

That’s when you identify the man, it was the man who outcasted the votes in favor of keeping playing.

“ENOUGH!” You yell, loud enough to stop the fight.

The man turns to look a you and he finally sees your face.

In-ho’s face turned pale. It couldn’t be you, it made no sense.

But he remembered very well the family portrait of your family resting in your father’s office in London.

You miss the way he sees you because you hurry to tend to your friends.

‘Fucking asshole…” In-house hears you whispering as you help Thanos and Nam-gyu to stand up.

In-ho felt himself getting extremely curious and irritated. Now his plans would get more complicated.

…

It’s almost time for lights out when every player is allowed to use the restrooms before bed. In-ho finally made contact with Gi-hun and he felt slightly under control of the situation. But you were still on his to-do list. So he rushed to wait the moment you separated from your assholes companions.

And when you started moving away with a bunch of female players, he made his move.

He grabbed from the forearm and ushered you to walk a few steps away, both of you passed to pink guards and let him yank you inside an empty hallway, near the stairs maze.

He heard you mumbling curses and trying to go back until In-ho lost his patience and pushed you against the wall.

“How did you get here?” He harshly asks, making you gasp at the sudden pressure in your forearm.

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, trying to get out of the man’s grasp. “Let me go!”

You are pushed inside the restroom and you are about to yell but you finally face your captor.

Player 001, is a handsome old man. Still, you didn’t know who the fuck he was and what he had to do with you.

“How did you get here?” He repeats his initial question, looking extremely serious.

“Who the fuck are you?” His grip softened but the pressure remained, keeping you between him and the wall.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His English is very good, but it isn’t his pronunciation that makes you almost gasp in surprise.

You can his tired eyes, fine nose, his hair. The vague memory of your father meeting with a man in your home, talking about expenses and finances, gives you enough answers.

“Congratulations, frontman. You just exposed yourself to me…” he seemed surprised, but hid it very quickly.

“You are no threat to me. Now speak…” He wasn’t expecting you to take very long to discover who he was given his approach to you.

“I met your salesman. He was very cute…”

“He must have recognized you. He wouldn’t give you a card…”

Your father was more than a generous sponsor. The island was also to his name. Everyone knew your name and who you were despite never being seen. For your father, it had been a disappointment your arrival. He always wished for an heir. And you resented him for that. You were useless to his eyes, an heir with no regard.

“He wasn’t as smart as you thought he was, dear. One glimpse of my cunt and I had him twirled around my finger…” his eyes lock with yours in a deep gaze, he wasn’t happy. “I miss him. I wish he wasn’t dead…”

“You think this is a game?” You chuckle, looking around the empty restroom.

“I think it is…” your finger points around the room. “I won’t tell a soul anything about you. Promise, Mr. Young-il”

“Listen because I won’t repeat myself. You’ll have no special treatment. If you mess this up, you die like everyone else” he says, leaning closer, intimidating you. But you don’t flinch. “It really is true that money can’t buy happiness, right?”

“Dying in the middle of this horror is better than dying at the hands of my own father” In-ho almost pitted you. He wasn’t a good person but there was still humanity inside him. You were not innocent, but you were so full of life, you were gorgeous. And he couldn’t believe your father despised you so much.

“I don’t care. Just don’t interfere with my task…” he says, looking you up and down before letting you go and urging you to get out of the restroom.

He said you wouldn’t get any special treatment. But he already felt feeling doubtful.

…

You can’t sleep. It’s completely dark and you can hear soft snores. The memory of you playing ddakji and seeing player 001 cheering for you repeated over and over in your head.

He was the leader. He knew your father and yet, it seemed like he was trying to protect you. So many questions popped into your mind, almost making it impossible for you to conceal sleep.

And suddenly, a hand touched your hip bone.

You scream but the hand covers your mouth.

“Come with me…” you know his voice. The frontman disguised as 001 was right there next to you.

Maybe your questions were about to be answered.

Carefully, you take the hand he offered you and follow him outside.

There are only two pink guards, everything else is empty.

It was unclear if it was day or night. The bright hallways changed from purple to bubblegum pink and then, green.

“Where are we going?” You ask, feeling your hand starting to sweat, but he doesn’t leave the embrace.

“To take a breath…” he simply says.

At the end of the green hallway, he opens a door and it’s dark, barely illuminated by warm bulbs. Is a stair and when you reach the end, it leads to the outside.

“I always forget this is under the island,” you say, out of breath, looking at the beautiful fawn and the sun peaking.

You don’t see the way the man beside you is looking in awe at you.

He doesn’t even know how invested he was in you.

“Why are you such a burden for your father?” He went straight to the point.

“He wanted a boy, I was born a girl” you admit, looking at the barely visible sea in the distance. “The only thing I could’ve been useful for him was to marry another wealthy man. But I refused…”

“That’s why you entered the games?” You nod, walking through the dirt and grass.

The sunrise was just starting, with orange, pink, and yellow, it was a beautiful sight that almost made you forget where you were.

“Don’t do anything stupid, other than what you already did. If you do, I won’t be able to protect you…”

“I appreciate your concern for my safety” you admit, locking your eyes with his. “But my life is not a priority for me anymore, Mr. Young-il,” you say and he almost smiled at you mocking him.

“In-ho…” he says.

“What?”

“My real name is In-ho” You couldn’t deny his revelation surprised you. “Young-il is just a facade”

You weren’t expecting him to trust you enough to share that. But once again, you were surprised.

“You really think you can keep 456 in place?” You ask him incredulously. “Prevent the voting to withdraw the games and convince my father to leave me alone?”

“I can negotiate with your father so he can leave you alone” Your eyes snap open at his words.

“No. You must know what he’s capable of” he smirks, eyeing you briefly before returning to look at the sunset.

“Don’t tell me you are growing fond of me” You turn to look at him and it’s your turn to smirk.

He meets your eyes and for some reason, you don’t erase the smile on your face.

“Never, Mr. Young-il” Your mocking is obvious, making him smile as he admires your profile. “I’d love to stay here, but we must go back before the music starts playing…”

When you turn to look at him, you see he had been eyeing you previously, making you unconsciously blush. Thankfully it was still dark enough to cover your embarrassment.

He nods and walks past you.

And there’s an odd feeling lingering in the air. Both of you conclude it’s odd but pleasing.

…

A carrousel, How bad it could go?

You are locking arms with Se-mi, your only female friend. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su are a little far away from you.

“Are you nervous?” She asks.

“Not really. And you?” She shrugs, looking around.

When you turn back, you see In-ho and other players talking around. He spots you and tells you to move away, probably to talk.

“Let me see if I can see some clue around, to give us an advantage” Se-mi nods, walking away.

You move close to the door where many players are still entering the room and soon In-house joins you.

“Run as fast as you can, it doesn’t if you end up alone in a room,” he says whispering in your ear.

“That would be cheating” you whisper back, checking around if Thanos and Namgyu were looking, but they weren’t.

“Then stick around me, especially if pairs are announced…” you know what he means. Thanos and Namgyu had been loyal to you. But they would likely team up and leave you alone at any time. “Okay”

He nods at you and watches you go back with Se-mi and Thanos.

“Pick your pill,” Thanos says smiling at you, handing his pendant and taking a pill for himself.

That’s the last thing you remember. Vague flashes of you running with your friends. And then you saw In-ho grabbing your hand and urging you to get inside a room. You believe he killed a man.

You don’t know what is happening. Each step you take makes you feel more and more dizzy. Your head feels heavy and the memory of you laughing in the male restrooms only to fade into the image of Thanos lying dead while Nam-gyu looks as shocked and under the effects of the drugs as you. A man accidentally pushing you and blood covering your hand after touching your arm.

You could still hear the mess inside the room. You cursed being the only woman inside there. And you somehow feel pity for Thanos. Making you realize nobody deserved to die inside the damn island.

One of the pink guards opened the door for you but could not recall it. A lot of people started looking at you.

“Young woman, What the hell happened inside the male restroom?” Player 100 asks you impatiently, but you don’t even look at him, you can’t hear him. “I’m talking to you, little brat!”

Gi-hun points at you and the group turns to see the scene. It’s In-ho the first one to step up, slowly walking towards you.

He hears Player 100 yelling at you and he cringes.

“It’s enough!” In-ho yells back in the distance.

Your hair is a mess, there’s blood all over your tracksuit. Your jacket is in your hand, barely grasping it, making an irritating sound with the zipper against the floor.

And your arm is bleeding.

Before In-ho can reach you, you faint.

A lot of people gasp and he runs towards you.

“BRING A DOCTOR!” he ordered to the pair of pink guards standing in a door.

They hesitated a couple of seconds, then quietly left. Nobody would know it was because player 001 was their leader. Everyone thought it was because someone was hurt outside of a game.

“What happened?” Gi-hun asked, kneeling beside In-ho. Both tried tapping in your cheeks but you seemed to be extremely disoriented.

People started gathering around and In-ho was tremendously trying not to look panicked.

“Hypotension and low blood pressure,” Jun-hee says, standing right next to Gi-hun and holding her belly. Gi-hun and In-ho turn to look at her.

“I took two semesters of nursing training,” the young woman says, trying to see the wound in your arm. “She needs stitches and something sugary or an IV”

In-ho takes your jacket and makes an improvised tourniquet in your arm, he breathes carefully, moving your head slowly, hoping to see you regaining consciousness.

The pink guards arrive and take you away, indicating no one else can follow.

Soon a crowd enters the room making a bloody mess.

…

You open your eyes, and every single thing you look at is green. Green like the room leading outside that In-house took you. The bed, the blanket covering your lower body, the little couch. Everything is green.

“Where did you get the drugs?” You almost jump, startled. A hand of yours ends on top of your chest and the heart rate monitor indicates an increase in your beatings.

“You’re safe here” In-ho is there, seated next to you. “But you kept doing stupid things outside…”

You stand your arm and see the stitches and dry blood. Your head throbs but it isn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

“The drugs were from… Thanos” You can’t believe he’s dead. Half of you expected him to leave and get out alive.

“You were so close to overdosing” he failed to not sound worried.

“Don’t tell me you are growing fond of me” You say the same thing he told you two nights ago, but he doesn’t smile. “I’m not playing, y/n”

“I’m sorry” you admit, looking at your hands. Finally feeling the weight of your actions.

“I’m convinced Seong Gi-hun will try to lead a rebellion” the man beside you adds, trying to soothe the tension. “He will try to stop the games”

“And would it be so bad? To end the games?” You ask surprising him. “There’s enough money to disappear from the country”

In-ho had thought about it but never did anything to make it true. However, now that had been growing fond of you, he could see himself running away. Almost…

“I would… but I can’t” You only nod, ignoring the tiny ache in your heart. You start trying to seat and he helps you.

You point at your dirty tracksuit and In-ho hands it, helping you to stand up at the same time.

“Seong Gi-hun will try to disarm the guards. If they are lucky they’ll succeed. Probably will recruit players to advance. You will volunteer and grab a gun” he sounds very serious, saying each word delicately as if he was scared you wouldn’t pay attention. “I know you can shoot and have good aiming. Your family used to take you to hunt deer in Scotland…”

“Damn well, you really know everything about me…” he rolled his eyes, making you realize he was indeed being serious. But his soft touch makes you feel weak. “Help me take off this thing, please”

“I’m not playing, y/n. That’s the only way I will be able to get you out of this if things turn against us. That’s the only way to save you…”

Your heart beats faster, and your hands feel numb. Even worse when you turn around and he untangles the laces in your patient gown. Your naked body flashes him and it takes all his strength to not touch you.

You take his vulnerability to ask what you had been trying to hide from yourself.

“Tell me why…” you say with your eyes lost, knowing he was staring at your soul. “Say those three words I’m desperately thinking and I’ll do anything you ask me to”

In-ho sighs, throwing his head back, he looks at his own feet, wondering what he should say.

You grow disappointed at his silence. And when you’re ready to leave, he stops you.

“I lov-“

You kiss him. You kiss him so deeply that it takes him by surprise.

His hands don’t know where to go but even with your eyes closed, you grab them and place them in your hips.

Soon, he takes control, just like you expected. Of course, he had to have experience. His lips expertly move against yours, and then his tongue perfectly melts with yours, leaving you made a mess.

“You didn’t let me say the three words…” he says, whispering in your lips as you pant for air.

“I thought you weren’t saying anything. It took me by surprise…” you admit, offering him a shy smile that he tries to mimic.

He wasn’t completely evil. He still had some humanity inside of him. He was conscious of his feelings and knew he wanted to protect you, to know you better, and see you alive, outside of the island.

“In-ho…”

“Hmm?” He asks as you lay your head on his chest. “Don’t hurt them…”

“That’s not on me, darling” Your wounded hand caresses his cheek and it makes him close his eyes. “Please, In-ho”

“You are going to go back with me. If Gi-hun succeeds, I won’t be able to protect you from this side of the island” he explains. “You’ll take a gun and stick with me. You don’t move away from me. You heard me?”

You nod, accepting his strong gaze on you.

“Promise me, y/n”

“I swear I’ll stick to you, In-ho,” you say, kissing him again. “I promise”

______________________

Salesman Valentine’s Day fic coming next Friday <3

[ze-lan]

the guest arose from their seats, looking back at the graceful bride in white; her face covered with a sheer veil. attached to her father’s right arm, they walked synchronously to the alter, where nanami stood there waiting for her.

nanami, in all his glory, looked simply dashing in his suit. his hair was styled in a way that suited his facial features and his suit was expensively tailored just for him. he stood tall, with his hands crossed over each other in front of him. his facial expression was almost unreadable, if it wasn’t for his temporary smile at this woman.

everything was perfect. except for the fact that it wasn’t. at least to him it wasn’t.

nanami’s mind was elsewhere. he was thinking about you. not the woman who was walking down the aisle. not the woman who he was going to give his undying vows to in just a few minutes. not the woman he felt obligated to marry. no, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

he tried his best to smile, to look as if nothing was wrong. but it was because the woman standing across from him at the alter wasn’t you. the woman he was about to marry wasn’t you.

he could tell that she could see his fake facade. nanami wasn’t himself, and what she’s seeing was the shell of the man he never was with you. the guilt ate him up and this was his hell, but he couldn’t deny these emotions. he couldn’t even focus, not even when the officiant looked towards him and told him to repeat after him.

“please repeat after me. i, nanami kento, take you, ishikura emi, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” the officiant said.

this was it nanami thought. he straightened up and cleared his throat.

“i, nanami kento, take you, f/n l/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” loud gasps heard from every person in the venue. nanami seemingly snaps back into reality, the weight of his words crushing him. his heart drops. he had said your name. whispers flood the room, and people start shifting in their seats, cringing from his very clear mistake.

there was nothing he could do to fix it. was this his subconscious telling him you were the one? how could he have said your name at his own wedding? you consumed his every waking thought and this didn’t help his case at all. he looked into her eyes, breath hitching at her expression. she gave him a knowing smile, almost as if she expected this moment of defeat.

“go.” she whispered. her voice was barely heard, and nanami swears he hears a slight voice crack. but he didn’t bother checking because he was already loosening his tie and running out the door, in search of you.

author note: i wrote this cause i couldn’t fall asleep :3 also, first tike writing literally anything ever on here so i used a fake name for the woman!!

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Forever Ain’t Long Enough

Paring: Glen Powell x Rockstar!Reader

Summary: Glen Powell and his rockstar love have been together for a decade, ever since they met on Scream Queens. Their relationship, once a well-kept Hollywood secret, is now making headlines—especially after their red carpet appearance at the Twisters premiere, where a certain ring was spotted. Now, sitting down for an exclusive interview ahead of her highly anticipated country comeback album, she finally confirms the rumors: not only did Glen propose, but they’re already married.

The camera flashes are still burned into her retinas. Last night, when they stepped onto the Twisters red carpet, she swore she heard the collective gasp from the press the second they noticed the ring. A decade together and somehow, they’d managed to keep this part a secret—until now.

“Alright,” the interviewer, a seasoned journalist with a warm smile, leans in with an air of intrigue. “Let’s start with the question on everyone’s mind. The Twisters premiere. The ring. Glen Powell finally putting a ring on the rockstar he’s been crushing on for ten years. Is it true?”

She laughs, shaking her head at the dramatics. “Oh, it’s true,” she admits, holding up her hand so the camera gets a good look at the diamond. “But we kinda forgot to tell people that we’ve actually been married for months.”

The interviewer’s jaw drops. “Wait—married? Glen Powell and his longtime rockstar girlfriend-turned-fiancée-turned-wife?”

She grins, nodding. “Yep.”

“Okay, hold on. You mean to tell me Glen Powell—Hollywood’s golden boy, America’s sweetheart—has been secretly married to you, country music’s newly returned queen, for how long?”

“Six months,” she confirms, sitting back against the leather chair. “We had a quiet ceremony on our ranch in Austin. Just family, some close friends, nothing crazy. I think after ten years together, we didn’t feel like we needed a spectacle. We just wanted us.”

The interviewer shakes her head in disbelief. “I need to process this. I feel like I’ve been lied to.”

She laughs again, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, we never lied. We just… didn’t correct anyone.”

“Unbelievable,” the interviewer mutters, then refocuses. “So, tell me—how did Glen propose? Because if this was under wraps, I’m guessing it wasn’t a public, get-down-on-one-knee-at-the-Oscars kind of thing.”

“Not even close,” she says, her smile softening. “It was at home, on the ranch. We were sitting on the porch, watching the sun go down, and he just—he pulled out the ring and said, ‘Ten years is a long time to wait, but forever still doesn’t feel like enough.’ And that was it. Simple. Perfect. Him.”

The interviewer sighs dramatically. “Well, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It really was,” she agrees, her fingers absentmindedly twisting her wedding ring. “And I know people always say ‘when you know, you know,’ but Glen—he’s always been it for me. Since day one. I think we both knew it, even when we were just kids messing around on Scream Queens.”

“So, does this mean the new album is about him?”

“Oh, yeah,” she confirms. “He’s all over this record. Every song, every lyric. It’s about the life we built together, the love we’ve grown into. It’s my love letter to him, to us, to Austin, to home. Making this album felt like coming back to myself.”

The interviewer sighs wistfully. “A secret wedding, a country comeback, and a husband who’s been in love with you since the minute he met you. You’re living the dream, girl.”

She grins, looking down at her ring before meeting the camera with a twinkle in her eye. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I really am.”

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Text reading: I have known Elon Musk at a deep level for 14 years, well before he was a household name. We used to text frequently. He would come to by birthday party and invite me to his parties. He would tell me everything about his women problems. As sons of highly accomplished men who married venuses, were violent and lost their fortunes, and who were bullied in high school, we had a number of things in common most people cannot relate to. We would hang out together late in Los Angeles. He would visit my San Diego lab. He invested in my company.

Elon is not a Nazi, per se.

He is something much better, or much worse, depending on how you look at it.

Nazis believed that an entire race was above everyone else.

Elon believes he is above everyone else. He used to think he worked on the most important problems. When I met him, he did not presume to be a technical person—he would be the first to say that he lacked the expertise to understand certain data. That happened later. Now, he acts as if he has all the solutions.

All his talk about getting to Mars to "maintain the light of consciousness" or about "free speech absolution" is actually BS Elon knowingly feeds people to manipulate them. Everything Elon does is about acquiring and consolidating power. That is why he likes far right parties, because they are easier to control. That is also why he gave himself $56 Billion which could have gone to the people actually doing the work and innovations he is taking credit for at Tesla (the reason he does not do patents is because he would not be listed as an inventor as putting a fake inventor on a patent would kill it and moreover it would reveal the superstars behind the work). His lust for power is also why he did xAI and Neuralink, to attempt to compete with OpenAI and NeuroVigil, respectively, despite being affiliated with them. Unlike Tesla and Twitter, he was unable to conquer those companies and tried to create rivals. I fired him with cause in December 2021 when he tried to undermine NV.

Elon did two Nazi salutes.

He did them for five main reasons:

He was concerned that the "Nazi wing" of the MAGA movement, under the influence of Steve Bannon, would drive him away from Trump, somewhere in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, rather than in the West Wing which is where he wants to be. He was already feeling raw over the fact that Trump did not follow his recommendation for Treasury Secretary and that the Senate also did not pick his first choice.

He was upset that he had had to go to Israel and Auschwitz to make up for agreeing with a Nazi sympathizer online and wanted to reclaim his "power" just like when he told advertisers to "go fuck yourself". This has nothing to do with Asperger's;

There are some Jews he actually hates: Sam Altman is among them;

He enjoys a good thrill and knew exactly what he was doing;

His narcissistic self was hoping the audience would reflect the abject gesture back to him, thereby showing complete control and dominion over it, and increasing his leverage over Trump. That did not happen

Bottom line: Elon is not a Nazi but he did give two Nazi Salutes, which is completely unacceptable.

N.B. For the few whining about my post "sans connaissance the cause" and either trembling about my having shattered their illusions about their cult leader or thinking I am defending Elon:

I. My point is that he is transactional rather than ideological;

II. That being said, I am not defending him or his actions, just explaining them and confirming that he did, in fact, do two Nazi Salutes if anyone had doubts or believed the doctored footage of Taylor Swift doing the same thing to normalize what Elon did;

III. At some point, it matters to a few people if one is a Nazi or if one acts like one. My father was a Holocaust Survivor. 32 out of 35 of his family members were murdered by the Nazis. My mother's grandparents were murdered in Auschwitz;

IV. After Elon tried to manipulate NV's stock in 2021, I fired him with cause, and he was unable to exercise his stock options. In the aftermath of the Nazi Salutes, I told both him and his wealth manager to fuck off. Any remaining friendship between us ended with the Nazi Salutes. He is blocked on my end and I am pretty sure I am blocked on his;

V. I did not share what he told me in confidence. I just happened to know him extremely well, the person, the aspirations and the Musk Mask;

VI. I know who I am, have no desire to be famous and give exceedingly few media interviews. I prefer to work in obscurity and let the work speak for itself. I am certainly not envious and would definitely not want Elon's life, including living in a bubble and having to make one outlandish claim after another and manipulate the public, elections and governments to shore up my stock and prevent the bubble from bursting. Unlike Elon, I am an actual scientist and inventor and I am not pretending to be someone I am not like a fellow who got his BA in Econ at 26 all of a sudden pretending to be an expert in mechanical engineering, chemistry, rocket science, neuroscience and AI and keeping the people actually doing the work hidden and paying people to play online games in his name to appear smart and feed his so-called "Supergenius" Personality Cult—the "Imperator" has no clothes, and he knows it. I am just very disappointed in what happened to someone I had a lot of deep admiration for and the first person to found out about my concerns about his behavior was always him;

VII. He is the one who betrayed a number of his friends, including Sergey, and, given his actions, many other people who believed him and believed in him. I have no sympathy for this behavior, and at some point, after having repeatedly confronted it in private, I believe the ethical thing to do is to speak out, forcefully and unapologetically, whatever the risks may be, so as to not be part of the timid flock remaining silent while evil is being done, including propping up far right governments around the world in part to deregulate his companies and become the first trillionaire and otherwise to "rule the planet"—he knows Mars won't be terraformed in his lifetime and he really wants his planet. No joke... Ethics matter. People matter. The truth matters.

I took down Descartes (through the Cambridge Declaration on Consciousness) and I am definitely not afraid of a so-called inventor whose greatest invention in his image.

I will not be silent. You should not be either. I am a sovereign individual, and so are you. I stoop up to bullies, and am stepping out of the dark to do it again.

Stop working for him and being exploited by him. Sell your Tesla and dump your Tesla stock. Nikola Tesla was a great, creative and courageous man who led with ethics and by example and he would not have wanted for his good name to have been used by him and would agree with my principled stance. Sign off of "X" which is boosting far right propaganda, and of your Starlink as well. He is a complete cunt who doesn't give a shit about you—only about power. Just ask Reid Hoffman. He only wants to control, dominate and use you—don't let him and cut him and his business out of your and your loved ones' lives entirely. Remember he is a total miserable self-loathing poser, and unless you are too, he will be much more afraid of you than you should ever be of him.

He will probably come after me, and I am completely fine with that. I am a self-made multibillionaire with an armada of lawyers—literally—and most importantly, I know who I am and who I stand for, the people and their freedoms, whatever happens. He can send his dumb Proud Boys and Oath Keepers after me and they will be butchered on sight. Either way, I would rather die with honor than live as a coward.

"Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."—Elie Wiesel, Holocaust Survivor and Nobel Peace Prize laureate /End IDs]

[shrewsburysworld]

✧YANDERE HUSBAND JUNGKOOK✧

Yandere husband Jungkook who married you because he loves you—so much that he can’t bear the thought of anyone else having you. From the moment he slipped that ring onto your finger, you became his, and he made sure the whole world knew it. Love, to him, isn’t just about happiness—it’s about possession, devotion, and a bond that no one can ever break.

Yandere husband Jungkook who can’t see you looking at any other man than him. The moment your eyes linger too long on someone else, his grip tightens around your wrist, a silent warning. His soft-spoken words and gentle smile may fool others, but you know better. His love is all-consuming, and he won’t tolerate even a second of your attention straying from him.

Yandere husband Jungkook who believes that keeping you by his side is the only way to ensure your safety. The outside world is dangerous, filled with people who don’t understand your love, people who might try to take you away. So he makes sure you have everything you need at home—why would you ever need to leave when he can give you everything right here?

Yandere husband Jungkook who whispers sweet words into your ear at night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you can hardly move. "You’re mine," he murmurs against your skin, his voice both a promise and a warning. "Forever." And you know he means it—because there’s no escaping a love like his.

Yandere husband Jungkook who spends hours searching for the perfect gift for you, something as precious as you are to him. He wants to see your eyes light up, wants to hear you say his name with that soft, grateful smile. Nothing is ever too expensive, too rare, or too difficult if it means making you happy. Because your happiness belongs to him, and him alone.

Yandere husband Jungkook who sees you naked with someone else on his own bedroom, the gift still clutched in his hands but he doesn’t confront you. His heart pounds violently in his chest, his vision blurs with red, but he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches from the shadows, memorizing the way your body moves, the way you whisper someone else’s name, the way that bastard clings to you asking for a divorce. And in that moment, he knows—this isn’t something he can ever forgive.

Yandere husband Jungkook who starts acting strange, his usual loving touch now laced with something colder, something darker. His kisses linger a little too long, his grip on your waist is just a little too tight. He smiles, but his eyes don’t match. You feel it in your bones—something is wrong. And when you try to reach out to your lover, their phone goes unanswered, their presence erased like they never existed.

Yandere husband Jungkook who watches as realization dawns on your face, your body trembling when you hear the news—your lover is dead. The world around you tilts, your breath shattering in your throat. But when you turn to Jungkook, he’s already looking at you, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable, something terrifying.

Yandere husband Jungkook who never needed to say it out loud, because deep down, you already knew. It was him. It was always him. And as he pulls you into his arms, whispering how much he loves you, how you’re his and his alone, you realize that there was never any escape. Not from his love. Not from him.

Pt. 2??

[bestalbertcamuslover]

In the Name of Commitment

↳ Masterlist

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing:  Sebastian Vettel x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

The sun glowed a bright orange as it dipped below the horizon, drinks and laughter flowed effortlessly among her group of friends, each accompanied by their current partners. It wasn’t something they often did, but every once in a while, the group would invite their significant others to join.

Sebastian’s arm rested casually on her thigh, completely at ease. He knew what her friends were like—cynical, much like her, the kind of women you’d call quintessential 21st-century women: independent, versatile, open-minded, and, as previously mentioned, deeply cynical.

“Yeah, she’s on her second marriage already,” one of her friends commented, or rather gossiped.

“I just don’t get why people keep getting married,” another friend interjected with a soft chuckle, sipping from her drink.

“Exactly. It’s just a piece of paper,” the first friend added.

“A piece of paper that seems to screw everything up,” y/n chimed in with a subtle grin. “Like, how many people do you know who are actually happily married?”

This wasn’t an unfamiliar conversation for the group of friends, but their respective partners seemed more surprised by the topic. Sebastian, at least, was. His future plans undoubtedly included marriage. Still, he stayed quiet. The conversation was lighthearted, and there was no need to turn it into a debate. Yet, he remained silent for the rest of the hangout—offering occasional nods and smiles, but not much more. He was definitely pondering what her aversion to marriage might mean.

She squeezed his thigh after buckling her seatbelt, a gentle smile on her face. “You okay?”

He glanced at her, instantly noticing her contentment from the hangout—the kind of brightness someone exudes after having a good time. “Yeah,” he said, “just exhausted.”

“You want me to drive?” she asked with a subtle smirk.

“Yeah, not happening,” he chuckled, still remembering the scratch that had magically appeared on his car the last time she drove.

She shot him a playful glare as he started the car. Silence filled the space again, hovering somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable.

“Seb, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

He glanced at her for a split second before turning his eyes back to the road. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, his tone lacking firmness. “It’s just… something you mentioned has been nagging at me.”

“What thing?” she asked, her voice tinged with subtle amusement.

“The stuff you and your friends said about marriage,” he replied, looking at her briefly before focusing on the road again. “Marriage is in my future plans, and so are you.”

“Oh,” she said, her tone softening with a hint of apology. “So, you want to get married someday?”

He nodded. “It’s what most couples do, you know?” he said, his tone a mix of seriousness and dry humor.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit archaic and pointless? It’s just an institution that lost its true meaning a long time ago,” she argued.

He glanced at her again, an amused expression crossing his face at her sudden expertise on the topic. “And symbolically? Nowadays, it’s about commitment. Don’t you want that?”

“Do we really need to get married to symbolize commitment?” she asked with a subtle grin, giving his thigh another gentle squeeze after noticing how seriously he was taking this.

“Well, yeah,” he replied, still a bit serious.

“It’s not like I’m against it. If it’s something that matters to you, then it’s fine,” she conceded.

Sebastian glanced at her again, his expression softening. “You’d do it just because it matters to me?”

She shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Marriage might be pointless, but making you happy isn’t.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the most cynical yet romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

She grinned. “I contain multitudes.”

He let out a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “You know, it’s not just about the piece of paper or the tradition. It’s about standing up in front of everyone we love and saying, ‘Hey, this is my person. And I choose them, forever.’”

She bit the inside of her cheek, studying him for a moment. He meant that. Every word of it. And damn if that didn’t make her heart squeeze a little.

“Forever’s a long time,” she mused.

“With you?” He shot her a small smile. “Not long enough.”

She giggled, resting her head back against the headrest. “You and your sentimental one-liners.”

He laughed, the tension between them dissipating entirely. “You love them.”

She rolled her eyes but squeezed his thigh again, this time lingering a little longer.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I've been watching too much SATC lol

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

[until-the-house-shakes]

Adoption Fight

Wolfstar raising Regulus / Werewolf! Regulus

-

Remus should have known this was going to happen. It’s only been a few months of him and Sirius taking care of Regulus, and each day ended in some terrible blow out- the brothers screaming at each other, doors slamming, and hatred easily being thrown about.

Why did he think this topic would be easy sailing?

For some brilliant reason, Sirius decided to legally get Regulus’ last name changed to mirror their own and get the adoption process started as well. The name changing process was easy enough seeing as Regulus’ parents legally gave up all parental rights of the werewolf, but they still needed a few signatures from the kid himself.

Getting his signature and trying to even discuss adoption was not going as easy as they hoped.

It started off as an easy conversation, asking if Regulus enjoyed living with them, and if he wanted to make his stay more permanent.

“Won’t maman have an issue with me staying here permanently? I thought this was just for the summer?” Regulus asked, looking through the papers his brother handed him. It looked innocent enough, but he wasn’t stupid. He read the words ‘adoption’ and ‘legal guardianship’. He knew what these two men are planning.

“We already talked to her. She thinks this is a better place for you to live.” Sirius lied. Regulus knew he was lying. He was awful at it.

“You’re lying. This isn’t what she wants. She’ll get mad and punish me! You know that.” The young werewolf was now on his feet, getting louder with each passing second.

One issue the married couple have yet to get a grasp on was the younger’s temper. He easily went from the sweetest kid anyone has met to meaner than both his parents combined. Remus should have known this would happen, as it was a very common symptom many werewolves dealt with, but adding in the ‘Black Madness’? He felt woefully unprepared.

“She won’t punish you, Regulus.” Sirius started, getting closer to his brother.

“How do you know? You know nothing! You haven’t been home in ye-“

“Because she fucking abandoned you! You left you! She made me and Remus take care of you because she couldn’t be bothered. She fucking hates you, told me herself.”

The world seemed to freeze once that comment left Sirius’ mouth. It was obvious to even an outside eye that the youngest Black was no longer ‘mama’s precious boy’ but to say she hated him? That she abandoned him and gave parental rights to his brother of all people?

And for what reason?

Because he was turned? Because one of their shitty friends made him a monster? That wasn’t even his fault, so why is he getting abandoned for it!

He could do better. He could be better. He could be the perfect son his maman was raising him to be, even with his stupid furry little problem.

“She doesn’t hate me.” Regulus mumbled, running straight to the kitchen. Looking for something to destroy. Something to get his anger out.

Glass plates.

Perfect.

“Hey, Reg. Let’s not do anything cr-“ Remus tried to calm the boy down, but to no avail. Before he could finish his statement, one of their wedding plates was thrown at the wall- effectively shattering it.

“I’m not fucking crazy!” Regulus screamed, throwing yet another plate. This time aiming for his lying brother.

“Regulus please stop! Being a Lupin isn’t a bad thing! I think it’s much better than being a Black.” Sirius flinched from his spot, much too scared to get closer to his brother- not wanting to make the situation any worse.

“I’m a Black. Not a fucking Lupin.” Regulus growled, throwing yet another plate at his brother, watching as it shattered.

Hearing and seeing all the tiny pieces of glass hit the floor, was the only comfort Regulus got during this conversation.

The only peace.

His mother hated him. His dad saw him as a monster. He was stuck with his brother who left when he was four, and another monster.

Regulus didn’t know what peace was. Until he saw the plate shatter against the wall.

-

The tantrum only lasted another two minutes until Remus was able to get his wand and move the plates far away from the angry ten year old.

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Go to your room, and calm down. Once you’re willing to talk calmly to us, we can resume this conversation.” Remus pointed at Regulus’ room, up the stairs. This was not the first time he had to intervene in an argument between the two brothers, and he was starting to get very sick of it.

He loved having Regulus live with them, but after watching this shit show and having his wedding plates- which were a family heirloom from his late ma- shattered all over his living room floor, Remus wasn’t too sure where he stood on the ‘adopting regulus’ matter.

“I fucking hate it here.” Regulus grumbled, stomping his way up the stairs and slamming his door shut.

The two men spared each other a fleeting look before starting to pick up the mess left by the youngest member of the house.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, likely a pitiful excuse on why he lost his temper, but Remus was quick to raise his hand and shake his head, “not right now. I want to hear nothing from you.” It was clear the brunette was close to tears, and it broke Sirius’ heart.

Remus always had to deal with the brother’s bullshit, and now he was the only one negatively affected by one of their regular blowouts. Sirius looked at the pile of glass that surrounded their feet, and felt even worse once he realized that no amount of magic could fix the million pieces of glass. Nothing he did could bring the plates back to how they used to be.

Nothing could make Remus not mad at him.

-

Two hours later, Sirius was hunched over a pile of glass in his office. He tried every single spell he knew and nothing brought the plates back to their former glory. In a moment of weakness, Sirius thought about apperating to Wales to buy a set identical to the broken plates, but then remembered that it was a ‘one-of-a-kind’ set that Hope had received from her mother, who received it from her mother, who received it from her mother.. and that pattern seemed to never stop. Needless to say, the plates were irreplaceable and the last thing Remus received from his mother before she passed.

And now a majority of them were broken in a pile in front of Sirius.

What was he going to do?

Sirius’ self wallowing was cut short by a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” He answered, hoping to see Remus walk in, but was instead greeted by a much smaller werewolf.

“Hey Reg, feeling any better?” Sirius asked, opening his arms for his little brother to take comfort. Yes, he was still very upset with the younger boy for reacting how he did, but he would never take away any comfort Regulus might seek out. He was not his parents, and would never act like them. No matter how mad he was. He was going to drill it in Regulus’ mind, that he was always safe and welcome in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” Regulus whispered, shoving his face in his older brother’s chest. Trying to hide from his mistakes.

“Do you really hate it here?” Sirius asked, petting the short black curls.

“I don’t. I promise. I… I was so upset. I was hurt that mom didn’t want me anymore and… it stung when you said she hated me. So I freaked out. I wanted to hurt you too. I’m sorry.”

Sirius sighed. Of course this traumatized kid was hurt and wanted to even the playing field out. It made sense. That’s exactly what Sirius used to do until he spent a few years with a mind healer and in a healthy relationship. When he was hurt he wanted others to hurt just like him or worse. Being hurt meant he was vulnerable, so if he made others vulnerable, he had nothing to worry about. It sucked that his poor baby brother had the same idea.

“I’m sorry too. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said. If it makes you feel any better, mother hates me too and disowned me long before she did you.” Sirius laughed, hoping it would make Regulus laugh as well.

It did not.

“I don’t hate you though. Neither does Remus. We love having you here, which is why we want to adopt you. We want you to legally be our kid, our family. That’s why we want you to share our last name. To really seal the deal.”

Regulus looked at his older brother with wide eyes. Was he being honest? Did he really want Regulus to be a part of his family? For the last two months, all Regulus did was cause fights, scream at Sirius, insult Remus, and make everyone’s life difficult. His own birth parents didn’t want him. So why did his brother want him?

What was so special about him?

“You promise you actually want me?” Regulus whispered. Too scared to speak any louder. Too scared to burst this bubble of safety his brother carefully created.

“I pinky promise Mon Ètoile. I want you here more than anything.”

The small promise filled Regulus with such a warm feeling. Much warmer than any feelings his maman could make him feel. It was almost too much.

Actually. It was too much.

Far too much emotion.

Like he couldn’t control it at all. He couldn’t hold it in. All his emotions had to escape. It had to leave his heart and mind and become physical.

It was terrifying, and hurt just a little bit.

But then in a flash. It was over. His emotions felt normal yet again.

Odd.

“What just happened?” Regulus asked, looking around the room as if one of the inanimate objects would answer him.

“I think you had some accidental magic happen, Reg. Nothing to worry about! You were feeling some big emotions and they had to come out. No big… no fucking way.” Sirius cut himself off, looking at some plates on the desk next to him.

Wait. Those were the plates Regulus broke. Or at least, he thought he broke them.

“Did I just fix the plates?” Regulus asked, awestruck at what he just did.

“I think you did mon ètoile. Why don’t you go grab Remus and bring him here so he can see? I’m sure he’ll be very happy.” Sirius smiled, ushering his brother out of the room to grab his other guardian.

In the few minutes he had by himself, Sirius tried to wrap his head around what just happened. He spent two hours trying to fix these plates and had no luck, but his brother managed to fix them with a rush of accidental magic?

It made no sense.

Oh well. It didn’t really matter as long as they stayed fixed.

-

Later that night, the three boys were all cuddled together on the couch, watching a muggle movie on a ‘telly’ as Remus called it. Regulus really liked all the muggle inventions Remus showed him. They were always so interesting!

“… Can I still change my name?” Regulus asked once there was a pause in the movie. The two adults haven’t said anything else about the adoption or his last name changing since he apologized for his outburst, and he was worried that they were going to take back their offer.

He didn’t want them to take away their offer. He wanted to be a Lupin. He wanted to be wanted by someone.

“Of course you can, cub. We can continue the process tomorrow, but I can’t promise it will happen anytime soon. Stuff like this tends to take a while.” Remus answered, bringing Regulus closer to his side. It warmed the older werewolf’s heart to know the kid genuinely wanted to be a part of their family, even if they fought.

“I would love nothing more than to share my last name with you again, mon ètoile.” Sirius ruffled his brother's hair, laughing as the younger complained about it.

Sirius looked over at his husband cuddling with his brother, and felt his heart swell. Sure, these past two months haven’t been an easy adjustment with Regulus living with them, but they’re making it work, and soon they’ll legally be a family of their own.

A happy little family

Hopefully.

[pinkiemachine]

Kon x M'gann HC's Part 2 Pretty Please with All the Fixings?

Loving the story.

Alrighty! Part 2!

So, to start off, I’ll just ramble a bit more about M’gann and Kon’s dynamic, then finish up the story :) Also posting this again because I think it turned out SO GOSH DARN CUTE! X3 (P.S. listen to “Bewitched” or “Serendipity” by Laufy. I feel like it captures the ✨ vibes ✨)

So it’s no surprise, after reading part 1, that Kon’s biggest flaw is that he’s very immature. He can get pouty and possessive when M’gann is paying attention to someone else, or when she’s gone for a while. He’s also a bit of an attention seeker, and he loves compliments and positive reinforcement of any kind. The first time M’gann gave him a kiss on the cheek, his world changed forever. Pretty sure it took the other guys about five minutes to snap him out of it. But, thankfully, as the story goes on, Kon gets a crash-course in a lot of things, including curbing his immaturity. He learns that you’re not supposed to roughhouse with girls (unless they’re comfortable with that sort of thing, and even then, don’t hurt them—super-strength and all), and he learns that sometimes M’gann is gonna pay attention to other people or go away for a little while and that’s normal and he doesn’t need to be overly upset about it. (He still pouts and misses her, though. It can’t be helped.) But the thing that he still has a problem with, to this day, is being a bit too aggressive when it comes to defending M’gann. The first time they met another Martian who was horribly rude to her, Kon almost brought out the laser eyes! Like, that dude would have been dust in the wind if the other TT hadn’t stepped in. Kon just can’t stand the idea of anyone hating M’gann, and for such a superficial reason no less! She’s beautiful and should be treated like she’s beautiful! (His words, not mine :) Ultimately, Kon HAS to keep himself in check on that account or else he risks starting an interplanetary war, but boy it’s hard.

M’gann sometimes falls back on her old habits and becomes a “yes woman,” agreeing to everything Kon wants to do even if she secretly wants to do something else. Cassie and Steph are the first to take notice of this behaviour, and help teach her to say “no.” If she’s uncomfortable, Kon isn’t gonna realise it on his own unless she tells him. She’s got to learn to put her foot down on things or she’s gonna be miserable. So M’gann practises this and other types of conversation in front of her mirror at night, and the first time she ever said no to one of Kon’s ideas, she felt so proud of herself! She wouldn’t stop smiling for the whole day! Kon had no idea why she was so happy, but when she was happy, he was happy, so it was a good day all the way around.

The dates they like to go on involve taking long walks around Earth. Neither of them had ever seen an ocean before, so they went to go see the ocean. Neither of them had ever been to a cheese factory before, so they went to go see a cheese factory and got free cheese curds on the way out. Then they went to a real baseball game and ate real hotdogs—they went to a museum (which M’gann liked more than Kon did, but they made it fun in the end)—they went on hikes, marvelling at all the different types of trees and bushes and butterflies and spiders and ants and birds and they even spotted a deer in the distance—and all the while, they would take pictures. So. Many. Pictures. M’gann has this old-school Martian camera and puts photo albums together of all the stuff she and Conner do together, like they’re already an old married couple. lol. Then, of course, when both of them are too tired to go out anywhere, they curl up on the couch and watch some of those old sitcoms M’gann grew up on. M’gann’s favourite is “That Girl” and Kon’s is “Hogan’s Heroes.”

Okay, now I’ve thoroughly set up how much fun they had together, time to make it all come crumbling down.

In the last post I said that Kon kept M’gann’s secret about being a white Martian and her past from the NTT and the JLA, but there was one person he was obligated to tell: Lex Luthor. Being that he was secretly working for the bald maniac, and it was his job to report in with any new information he’d learned, he had no choice. Even when he tried to lie or exclude details, Luthor grew suspicious of him and forced the info out of him. So when the reveal of his betrayal happened, it was so much worse for M’gann. Lex used what he had learned to help take her down, and also create a rift between her and Kon, because he wasn’t supposed to be getting attached to M’gann anyway. Kon was ordered to forget about her because he was never going to see her ever again, and M’gann wanted to forget Kon for sharing her most sacred secret. Not to mention, he had been lying to her from the start about his past, about his intentions, and who knows what else. Had he been using her to get information about the Justice League? About her uncle? Yes, he had, and he wanted to tell M’gann that he was ashamed of what he had done, but Lex wouldn’t let them be in the same room, so M’gann was left to think all sorts of awful things about him. It was a dismal day. This event is covered in full in another post which I will link below.

Now, of course, this story has a happy ending (because happy endings are the best kind of endings). Lex is eventually defeated, Kon is freed from him and LexCorp, and for once he gets to call the shots in his life. The first is going to M’gann and trying to make things up to her in any way he can. Now, at this point, M’gann knows that Lex was twisting Kon’s arm to a certain extent, so her anger is a little softened, but she still feels like an idiot for trusting him so easily, and she’s nervous about trusting him again. He’s still such an immature person—who knows what kind of big mistake he’ll make next?

Kon plucks up his courage and makes a traditional Martian apology to her—the big ceremonial kind meant for state officials and royalty when they’ve severely messed up something BIG—and begs her to give him one more chance. He knows full well that he’s a bit of a dunce when it comes to girls and Earth culture and even being a good person (again, his words) but he wants to be a better friend, he wants to be a good hero, and more than anything else he wants to be the best boyfriend he could possibly be for her. When he was making his decision to finally stand up against Lex, he was afraid of what Lex would do to him… but then he thought of M’gann. He remembered how much she meant to him, and that Lex was planning on hurting her as a part of his evil scheme, and even if it meant Lex would go ahead and terminate him and make another clone, he didn’t care. M’gann mattered more. And she always would. So, with all of this before her, M’gann was quite stunned, to say the least. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Given the fact that Kon had partaken in much of Lex’s plan willingly, the JLA agreed that some form of punishment was only fair, so it had been decided that Kon would spend a year on the Kent farm, essentially doing community service by helping them with all the chores. He would be confined to the property during all of that time, too, so the two of them were going to spend the next year in different places. M’gann hesitantly answered Kon’s apology with a “Maybe… I could write to you… and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Kon was so happy. He plowed through all his chores on the Kent farm each and every day—Ma and Pa, and sometimes Clark when he had the time—would teach him things and show him to do stuff, like carpentry. And then, every day he’d go and check the mailbox, waiting for a letter from M’gann, and when he’d get one, he’d race up to his room (Clark’s old room) and read it ten times over. Then he’d grab a paper and pen and write his response, filling her in on all the things that had happened on the farm the last week or so. They wrote to each other non-stop that year, eagerly, patiently waiting for Kon’s sentence to be up. And when it had been a full year, and Kon came back to the city and the NTT, he and M’gann went for a walk in the park, and without saying a word, they both knew… there was no one else they’d rather spend the rest of their life with.

(Then the picture is from a little party the gang threw in celebration of their victories over all their villains, including Lex, and everyone was encouraged to wear their home country’s traditional garb, and maybe even bring some traditional food or a traditional party game. It was a fun night, and M’gann and Conner got to see each other dressed up for the first time (probably. I haven’t written out each individual episode for the NTT yet, but I like to imagine this is the first time ☺️))

Part 1 👇

Kon’s backstory is included in this post… 👇

[yandereunsolved]

could see yandere john if he had a sheriff darling purposely getting himself arrested just to see them/harass them, Jack too

I have so many thoughts on this.

Sheriff reader is always a lovely thought when it comes to rdr characters. And yes, like father―like son. It depends if we are talking high or low honor.

I'll do both. To please you all.

Yandere High Honor John would not want to be arrested. He is trying to change his ways. He needs to be better for his family. He isn't a religious man, but coveting another person while he is married is definitely a sin. He's already committed enough of those to last several each other.

So he chooses to help sherriff darling. He clears out the local gangs, buys them drinks, stalks them home and watches out for intruders, and even takes care of scum behind their back. Luring people to their deaths in the wilderness is just what friends do for eachother.

Sure. He dreams about what you feel like. He imagines marrying you too. He wants nothing more than to kidnap you and make you a farm spouse. But he won't. At least not yet. He's either gotta get Abigail on board or―keep you a secret. He really doesn't want to. He's tired of them. Secrets have gotten so many people he's loved killed.

Yandere Low Honor John gets arrested a lot. He's already considered a criminal but he can't be hung or jailed too long because he's working for the government. He's too old to care about 'future' consequences. His entire life has been dealing with future consequences.

He wants you. He wants you now.

And he doesn't have forever to wait. But he still loves to play games with you.

No matter your age he will still try and come off as the older, more dominant person in this weird relationship you have with him. But there's also no joke to his devotion. He will and has murdered people right in front of you for you before. And there's little you can do but lock him up for a few days and hope he'll stop.

He has no qualms about keeping you a secret from his family. He also cares about them somewhat less now that you are in his life. He feels like he is saving them out of obligation, not out of love.

Arthur's sacrifice still hits home for him. But why can't darling be part of the reason he never looks back? Abigail, Jack, and Uncle are the only reason his past is still haunting him. So would it be so bad if they died?

Yandere High Honor Jack is still somewhat the person his parents wanted him to be. He's a bounty hunter―a gunslinger, but not entirely at outlaw. He writes and he yearns. He knows he's too broken to be loved but still wishes for it.

So he gets arrested for more minor incidents. Although, he can't hold back from being violent towards people who are already being violent.

He is more respectful of you and your time. He offers to go on patrol with and or for you. He also hunts down escaped convicts.

Now he can't help but hate your job. You're part of the law who so ruthlessly murdered his pa. But it's like one of those romance books he snuck to read behind his ma's back. He'll help you see the error of your ways. Or kidnap you out of them. Whichever is easier.

He's also lessy mouthy, but still a perv. He just usually keeps those dirty thoughts to himself.

Yandere Low Honor Jack is nothing like the man his father and mother wanted him to be. He hates you so fucking much. And he has very few people to take his anger out on. So he takes it out on you.

He makes as much of a ruckus as he can. Chaos runs amok. And he does a damn good job of it. He's crafty. He knows how to evade you. And he spends most of his time doing just that.

He thinks it'll make you 'want him more' since you're chasing after him (quite literally). It makes his blood pump in more place than one. And who's to say he won't get handsy if he manages to knock you off your horse? Just a little kiss. Maybe more.

His favorite game is to try and mark you up before you can stop him. Whether that be from hickies or bruises you get from him attacking you.

Really the only time you can lock him up is when he's blackout drunk. And even then he manages to find ways to escape before you can hang him. It's just so hard to find good help these days. And you heavily suspect Jack is the one shooting (and brutually killing) the deputies you hire. So no one wants to work for you.

Sometimes he delays his escape from his cell just for fun. Teasing you, flirting, and or trying to bribe you―with not only money but also his body.

[kastalani123]

ToA, but the A stands for Ares

Bc I think many have questioned why Ares wasn't (noticeably) punished for helping steal the Master Bolt and Helm of Darkness. He's already the Olympian pariah of sorts, a major punishment shouldn't be out of the question.

So he spends about a year in limbo before being dumped in Manhattan as a ball of immortal rage confined in a tiny mortal body. Haven't decided whether he's in his early or late teens, but regardless, he is smol with like. Toothpicks for arms.

He does not initially intend to head to Camp. He intends to squat at some fighting ring or something until Zeus gets bored. Anything to keep others, especially his siblings, from seeing the state he's in.

However, he has no weapon and nobody is particularly intimidated by a roughed-up, dirty kid, regardless of the inferno raging in his eyes. So, off to Camp he goes, just in time for The Sea of Monsters.

He. Does not know that a mortal immortal's services have to be claimed. He would've made one of his kids do it, if he had. Instead, he gets caught off-guard and Annabeth gets him. He hates it. Not only has he lost all control over himself, but he lost it to a child of Athena, to a friend of Percy's. He has a rough time with it.

Iiiiiiii don't know how Clarisse gets her ship without Ares as a god. Maybe he can summon it without his powers because the soldiers owe a debt to him regardless of his mortality? Sure, let's go with that.

(Also! Disregarding the "abusive father" characterization of PJO Ares. If there is one thing that man loves, one thing he will never be violent against, it's his kids, fuck off, Rick. He may not be a great dad (as all gods), being too rough and overestimating his kids' capabilities and being bad at emotions/empathy, but he is never raising a single finger against his kids. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean they don't have some degree of fear about not living up to his expectations)

He goes with the trio on their secret quest because he's. Kind of tied to Annabeth, at the moment, and also because it's a chance to fight and hopefully regain the shred of his Father's favour he still had before TLT. Percy hates it and they fight constantly; Ares spends a good chunk of the quest muzzled with Annabeth's "Shut up!" commands. He's not having a good time.

Clarisse is pissed that he came because she thinks it means he doesn't trust her abilities and thinks she's weak. This is Not True but Ares really fucking sucks at communication, emotions, and relationships in general, so she stays pissed at him.

His temper gets even shorter than it already was when he, Annabeth, and Percy get separated from Clarisse because he's worried and wants to hurry up and find her. Percabeth don't realize that's why, so it ends up as a huge mess. Ares is trying to rush through everything by immediately attacking while Annabeth and Percy are actually trying to plan some things out, so he ends up being kept on a really short leash. Like, "Don't do anything but follow us" short. It's almost enough to get him to spill his worries; alas, he cannot speak.

(Honestly, that probably ends up as a huge part of the story; his arc would probably essentially be to get him to open up and help him understand and deal with his emotions, but he keeps pissing people off which makes Annabeth make him shut up so he can't talk shit out like he's supposed to. The first proper steps of his character development have to happen away from Annabeth, which means it's really convenient that she gets kidnapped in the next book!)

Anyways.

Annabeth lets up on the commands when they get to Polyphemus's Island, with the caveat that he doesn't rush into anything. He wants to absolutely decimate the Cyclops for daring to capture and think of marrying his daughter, but unfortunately, he does not have the ability to do so, even with a godly power up born of his protective rage. He absolutely vows to take care of it when he regains godhood, though, regardless of Poseidon's potential wrath. This also further cements his hatred for Poseidon's children, which is honestly very impressive because they're probably already one of the things he hates the most.

His reunion with Clarisse is. Well. It certainly is. Unfortunately, they are both allergic to admitting how worried they were. Instead, Clarisse just gruffly thanks him for his help and Ares says that no one is allowed to touch his kids (which Clarisse takes in a possessive/neg way, of him sort of taking ownership, as gods are wont to do. This doesn't get rectified for. A while). They both want a hug, inexperienced as they are with them. Neither will get it.

That's about it for SoM. It'd be more about him learning about his limits and getting a better idea of his kids' limits than proper Emotional Character Development. That'd start in TTC, kind of like how Apollo really started growing after TBM.

Ares absolutely has his own flavour of trauma; more "typical" soldier PTSD and stuff about being the hated Olympian than past lovers, tho. A good bit of his arc would probably be something about learning what healthy relationships look like, how to manage his feelings in a non-destructive way, and that he doesn't always need to be "the strong one" and should be protected sometimes too. He doesn't get the same speedrun as Apollo, since he'd be mortal for a few years (until TLO), but considering his thing is more about learning how people and relationships work while Apollo's was a bit more about his ego and actions getting checked, I think that can be justified. This man has been ignoring emotions other than rage for millennia, it'll take a bit more than six months to get him to open up.

(Mortal Ares in TTC)

[luvmyboyss]

SAVIOR | SATORU GOJO

✮ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Synopsis: You were trapped in a monotonous life, every day was the same, same routine, same boring people, same boring boyfriend, untill one day it just changed.

✮ Warnings: Stalking, fainting, mentioned panick attack, anxiety

✮ Word count: 1.3k

✮ A/N: I'm thinking about making more parts obiously, but let me know what you think about it, if you like it or not. Also i'm still learning to put warnings so if anyone notice some missing please let me kno. Thank you!

✮ PS: Thank you @hyuneskkami for the blue dividers!! 🫶🏻😭

You were tired, all the days were the same schedule, every day that passed you were more tired, what you should do? You didn’t know, but you felt trapped in a loop, doing the same each morning, each midday and each night.

At 6:30 your boyfriend, who didn’t even want to marry you, after 7 years, you thought the day was coming, but it never happened. He wakes up, and instead of trying to be as subtle as he can so you can rest for 30 more minutes, he is the loudest person you’ve ever met. He goes to the bathroom and the only thing that you are praying is for him to just stay as quiet as he can.

At 7:00 your alarm goes off, and it’s a good thing that your boyfriend is now out of your room, so you can take a nice shower to try to stay calm and start the day nicely. You change into boring clothes, because after trying to be more stylish for a while, you noticed that everyone in the office stared at you, and at first you didn’t care, but after some time and lots and lots of whispering, laughter and mean looks, you started to be more like them.

By the time 8:00 rolls your boyfriend is already out of your tiny apartment and you eat your breakfast alone, the silence feels heavy, and you hate it, but still get trough it because in fifteen minutes you will be taking the train, because you’d be damned if your bf lends you the car you both paid for. 

Then, from 9:00 to 17:00-17:30 you work your ass off and with just some time to eat your lunch and relax, and all you can really think about in that time is how you wished you’d be somewhere else, living your life fully, and even tho you were still young you felt like this was your life for the rest of your stance in the world.

Around 17:45-18:15 you finally get home, no boyfriend at sight, and you are very tired, but still have to do dinner and both of your lunches for tomorrow, because he didn’t like it when meals weren’t done, ‘cause if you spend so much time home why don’t use it wisely? If not you will be met with the consequences of your actions, or lack of them in this case.

When your boyfriend arrives at 20:00 the table is already set, and you are preparing the lunches for tomorrow and setting them in a place where he can see them or he’ll get mad. 

You both eat and even though it hurts you, neither of you talks, and you still did not so long ago, but seeing that he didn’t care and didn’t listen, you just stopped. You should have left him long ago but can’t understand why you still haven’t. You blame it on the fact that flats are expensive and living with someone takes half of it off. 

Around 21:00 you are in your bed ready to sleep but the TV from the living room is just so high, you’ve tried lots of different ways to stop the sound, lots and lots of ear plugs, but none worked, so now you roll on your bed until bf comes to bed and the TV is off.

At 23:00 when everyone is probably asleep, and you can hear your boyfriend snoring you wonder if there is really a meaning to life, if you are meant for this life and if this is how it’s going to be forever.

You hope it isn’t.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

You woke up more happy this morning. Today you had to go shopping for groceries, and that broke your schedule a bit, and you liked that more than you let yourself to admit.

Around noon you got out and went shopping, walking around and getting to the center of the town seeing people expressing themselves made you feel alive again, but today felt different, you felt as if someone was watching you.

You let that pass as your brain tricking you. The thing is, you were indeed being watched by some white-haired man from some miles away.

You went home and started back your routine. It wasn't until some weeks later when you went out again, when that feeling of being watched came back, or rather stronger, because you'd been feeling it since that day when you went shopping.

You were walking around going to your trusted supermarket when you saw him, and how could you not? Even when he was sitting he stood out over everyone else.

Who was that white-haired guy sitting on a bench in front of your supermarket? Why was he wearing a blindfold? Why was he so...ethereal?

Deciding not to pay any attention to him, you get to get your groceries. Everything went well but after like an hour when you got out of there he was still there, and for you it seemed weird because even though he wasn't looking in your direction and wearing a blindfold, you still felt like he was watching you.

As always the longer route seemed more appealing so its the one you chose, half the rout in the feeling of being watched was still there. You couldn't shake it off, and then you saw him.

Even though the reflection wasn't the clearest you could identify him from miles away. Who could't? And he was... following you? 

"No, no it must have been a coincidence he couldn't be following me, right" you thought, but still weren't sure at all.

After some more turns and straights, the reflection gave him away again.

"Now he is following for sure"

You speed up your peace and soon enough the entry to your building was right there. After looking at both directions and seeing the white hair weirdo wasn't there, you decided to enter.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

The next week you felt watched every hour of the day, everyday, it was exhausting, at some point you even felt sick, it was very bad, your body was telling you to stop doing the thing that made you that anxious, you were anxious all the time, you. You thought you even had some small panick atacks.

One day while you were in the office your body had enough and you ended up blocking yourself in the bathroom.

You felt like everyone was watching your every move, you were out of your mind so you did what anyone would do, you took the day off and packed to get home.

Just after getting out you saw him, sitting on a bench but this time he was looking at you, or so you thought 'cause he was still wearing that blindfold.

At that moment, you freaked the fuck out, you started sprinting home, you didn't care about anything, after some meters you turned to another place, the police.

If he was still following you, he was going to meet the consequences.

When you arrived, you waited a minute to see if he was there, but he was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to go back home. 

When you were taking the lift to your floor your heart was racing, you wanted to stay home forever, you swore if you saw him again you were truly filing a police report and moving to another country.

You opened the door to your flat, but there was something weird. You couldn't point at it but the feeling wouldn't go away. And then you saw him.

"What the fuck!"

Your reaction was to leave your apartment, but for some reason there was something blocking the entryway. It made the outside blurry and now that you noticed the light from the outside seemed blurry too.

When he moved, panick moved through your body and you couldn't move "fuck" you thought. 

"Hey you don't need to worry, I'm not trying to do something bad to you, I'm here to talk about something important with you, it is..."

You couldn't even hear what he said because you fainted.

[2thegreatsunshine]

high school alumni reunion tomorrow

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i just think if roles were reversed and buck was the one saying those gay ass lines to eddie, eddie wouldve proposed like four seasons ago