#sounds like some doctor title lmao
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
heyyyy,
I LOVE your Emily fics and only just saw you’re taking requests!! Congrats on the followers.💗 I was wondering if you could do an Emily/Reader fic maybe with the prompts “they didn’t deserve you” and “why are you doing this”, (early days in the relationship) where it’s Christmas time and Emily mentions in passing how she always spends Christmas alone cause it’s too much to go to her parents and reader decides to surprise her by making dinner and bringing it to her on Christmas Day! Emily is confused because she’s never had this kind of care or treatment and reader says she deserves it ( maybe first time saying ily?)
anyways just an idea and NO pressure if it’s stupid lmao! Ily
thanks
Please let me know what you think of this. It got really carried away and I really hope you liked what I did with this. *hides*
Take a Chance
Emily Prentiss x Female Nurse!Reader
Tags - No use of Y/N, swearing, angst, fluff, meet cute, first Christmas. Minors DNI
Summary - Please refer to the ask for summary!
AO3
Word Count: 4.4k
As a nurse, you had few rules for who were out of bounds in dating. Doctors are a big hell no. Yes, it seems romantic and dreamy to fall for some sexy, brilliant, doctor but there is too much overlapping and fucked up hours to connect that things can fizzle out so quickly once you realize there is no compatibility. And god forbid you end up having to work with one another? So, so awkward after a breakup.
And yes, you’ve been there and done that. Never, ever, again. You moved out of ICU to have less contact with the intensivist, Dr. Vanessa Hyland, and the ER has been headhunting you for a while now. You took the opportunity and ran. It is a change of pace, but it had the same adrenaline vice that you crave working and triaging the unknown that walk through MedStar Washington Memorial that was close to the VA*.
Your exclusion list also includes paramedics, firefighters, police officers, and anyone in your department. You didn’t want someone that had similar bizarre hours as you and that you might end up seeing at work if shit hit the fan. Healthcare was a small world, and you didn’t need your exes in your immediate orbit. You had enough drama at work and for the last year, the ER has become your work home and it has pushed you to pursue your license as a nurse practitioner. You had one year to go and were currently a resident.
You are career focused, intelligent and driven which currently made dating a low priority for you. Since the fling with Dr. Hyland fell through, you focus on yourself and enjoy being single since no one of genuine interest caught your fancy. And you stopped looking.
You didn’t realize your world was about to flip upside down when you knock on the window to Bay 3 in the ER and a deep voice said to come in.
That definitely didn’t sound like an Emily Prentiss to you. That must’ve been her partner speaking per the report given to you that he came along for the ambulance ride.
“Morgan, I can speak for myself …” came the snippy reply confirming your suspicions.
You pull the curtain back and take in the two feds in the room. The tall, dark, and muscular handsome fellow was hunched over the side rail before he saw you. “Hey, Doc. Mind telling princess here that she needs to behave?”
Your eyes dart to the woman on the cart who was squinting her best death glare at him. “I am behaving. I came here, didn’t I?”
With the concussion the female fed has, the bright lights of the room weren’t helping which made her glare pathetically cute. You turn the lights down, which the staff should have done in the first place.
“Better?” you say with an understanding smile.
She nods thankfully.
“Also, not a doctor. NP in training.” You walk in and introduce yourself. “So, shall I call you Emily or Agent Prentiss?”
She looks at you funny.
“Some feds have a stick up their ass about titles.”
“I definitely do not have a stick up my ass. Unless you count him?” She points a thumb at Morgan in all seriousness.
His face falls playfully with feign hurt, clutching at his chest. “Ouch, girl.”
“Hm,” you look thoughtfully between them and could feel the deeply rooted respect and love for these two partners. You decide to play along and return your attention to Emily. “Well, I’m sorry to say we don’t have a surgical consultant that specializes in that.” Then you wink. “I can always call security and throw him out if ya like.”
“Hey! Wait a second.” He lowers his hand accusingly. “You’re all not playing nice now.”
Emily chuckles. “I guess he can stay. He’s kinda my ride anyway.”
“Duly noted. Now, to business. May I?” You gesture to Emily’s head as you put on gloves. She nods and you start examining her scalp by gently running your fingers along her hair to smooth back to getting a better look. “The officer that was driving with you is doing OK. Same issue with head trauma after the T-bone. Do you remember hitting your head on anything before the airbags deployed?”
“Well, I was driving. Then we got the call on our suspect. Then we … we got the call on our suspect …” she shakes her head, wincing, trying to recall the memory before impact.
“Hey, if you don’t remember, it’s fine. I’m sure you know that. Doubt this is your first concussion?” You stop for a moment to make eye contact with Emily who rolls her eyes in affirmation. “Alright, well… you do have the start of a nice bruise here.”
You gently brush over the injury mid-scalp about halfway up from her left ear. “How’s the headache?”
“Pounding”, as she winces from your touch.
“Any nausea or vomiting?”
“No.”
“Dizziness or lightheadedness?”
“Nope.”
“Double or blurry vision?”
“A little. Tho it’s an improvement for Morgan’s looks.”
He whistles, shaking his head. “I’m letting that one slide since you’re suffering.”
You chuckle. “Alright, let me take a quick look at the rest of you. Anything else hurting that isn’t Morgan’s heart?”
That made her laugh as you pull the stethoscope over your head. “No. Nothing else hurts.
“Ladies, I’m starting to take offense now.” But he was all smiles.
You knew she suffered minor injuries from the ambulance report – contusions and small lacerations from shattered glass that didn’t require stitching. The officer on the passenger seat got cut worse being on the side of impact. You then listen to her heart, lungs and abdomen and palpate her stomach after making sure nothing was tender. Then did the same with her limbs testing neurological strength and any sore spots that may have been missed.
“Okay, Emily. Let’s get that CT done of your head.” You put the stethoscope back around your neck before placing your hands in your lab coat pockets. “If that comes back clean, I’ll release you home …” You see she’s about to ask a question you’re already anticipating. “… and no work until you’re medically cleared.”
She pouts rather prettily. You wish you didn’t notice. “And that also means no pretending to be cleared and going to work either.”
Morgan shakes his head and half smiles down at his partner. “Busted.”
“Had a feeling.” Morgan smirks between the two of you. “I’ll get those orders in.” You check your watch. “Should be done within the hour and we’ll go from there. If you need me, just call.”
Morgan steps around the bed to shake your hand. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” And you turn to look at Emily with a firm tone and playful eyes. “You behave.”
She huffs and settles back against the pillow, but Emily was fighting with a smile. To you it appears she was grumbling under her breath which was oh so common with law officials. When you leave the room, Morgan looks at Prentiss with a knowing look. In her state, she was genuinely confused. “What?”
“You’re making heart eyes with the nurse.”
“What? I … wasn’t. No way I was doing … whatever that thing you said I’m doing. It didn’t happen,” she says with a scowl.
“Heart eyes,” he reminds her.
“Whatever,” she snips. “Has to be the head injury.”
“Uh huh.” He looks back at the curtains then at his partner. “She’s your type too …”
“I’m not having this conversation right now,” she says, stopping Morgan from talking further about the nurse that was definitely her physical type. Plus, you were clearly smart and had a fun side at the bedside that made her smile.
Morgan smirks, seeing the dopey look. He knows she’s thinking about you. “When you’re better, then.”
“I’ll probably won’t remember this stupid conversation then either.” She ends the topic by crossing her arms and looking away from Derek. A perfect model of a petulant Prentiss.
Emily does hates that he was right. The question that remains is if she was going to do anything about it after Morgan’s teasing that would inevitably come at a later date.
Two weeks went by since you discharged Agent Emily Prentiss and life went on. You were working a double today in the ER.
“Let’s get a bag of O neg going on Bay 2 and prep endo for a scope.” You put the orders in and use the inter-hospital chat through the EMR* with Dr. Aorsen who is the GI specialist on call. Poor patient had a bleeding ulcer.
One of the techs calls your name and you answer without looking up, continuing to type up the H&P* on the patient so there will be no delays in the procedure. You answer with a pen dangling between your teeth. “Yeah?”
“An Agent Prentiss is here to see you.”
The pen drops from your lips as you swivel your chair around to look at the disheveled tech in surprise. “Uh, what?”
You couldn’t have heard that right.
He throws a thumb over his shoulder and nods in confirmation. “Fed named Prentiss is here to see you.”
Your eyes dart around the room trying to figure out why she is here and come up empty. “Is she here by herself?”
“Yep.”
“O … kay. Yeah. I’ll see what she needs. Tell her I need ten minutes to finish something before I can see her. Thanks, Marc.”
“Kay.” He wanders off and you finish your necessary charting. You weren’t going to drop everything to speak with her just yet when a patient needs your attention. Though your mind couldn’t grasp why she was here. You sent over the medical report on Agent Prentiss to the FBI the same week you discharged her. Nothing was out of the ordinary in your report. She suffered a typical concussion and filled out all the workers’ compensation documentation for the feds. It was way worse than filling out the damn metro police claims, and it took over an hour to finish.
Once you have all the necessary orders and documentation for your patient to go to endo, you meander through the nurses’ station and down the hall to where Emily is waiting. She currently has her hands behind her back which shows off the gun holstered to her hip. The white button down was under a black blazer that made her professionally beautiful and it was nice to see her be more casual from the waist down with jeans and black work boots.
And then there you are in your navy-blue scrubs, lab coat, hair up in a messy bun, and a stethoscope hanging around your neck. She definitely looks put together and was easy on your tired eyes.
Emily is distracting herself as she waits for you by taking in all the scenery around her from laundry bins to rolling medical equipment. But when she sees you, she visibly perks up and shifts on her feet.
You wonder if Emily is nervous but that is ridiculous. You push that thought out of your mind as you smile to greet her. “This is a surprise, Agent Prentiss.”
“Ah, Emily’s just fine. This isn’t anything official.” She says it a bit too quickly that makes your brows raise up in question.
“Well, that’s good. I was wondering.” You look her up and down and see that’s she’s recovered nicely, even if she isn’t relaxed speaking with you. Her hands are still behind her back. “You look well.”
“So, do you,” she says a bit too quickly when your eyes narrow in thought to her response. “I mean … for working long hours are the ER. It’s not easy.”
Your head moves to the left in curiosity as to where this was going. “Definitely not, but I love it. Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Though …” you bring your arm up and slowly gesture towards back down the hall “ … I’m sorry to be abrupt but with patients waiting … can you let me know how I can help you, Emily?”
You see her look mortified at keeping you waiting and that is when her arms swing around to her front, one crossing her abdomen. She was definitely nervous, but it is unclear why.
“Yes, I did want to thank you and see …” She nervously licks her lower lip, and your eyes are inevitably drawn to the motion.
You were hanging on her next words. The moment between you is filled with the sounds of electronic beeps, a patient moaning in confusion, and then the old Batman TV show theme goes off alerting your hospital that an ambulance was calling in a patient on the emergency line affectionately dubbed ‘The Bat Phone’ by the hospital. That seemingly jolts her back from looking at anything but you.
“ … well, see … you,” she says bashfully.
Your eyes widen. “See me?” You sound as confused as you appear.
“Yes,” Emily confirms with a hesitant nod.
Your eyes dart upwards in continued bewilderment before settling on her hopeful-looking brown orbs. “Look, I’m a complete idiot right now. Why did you need to see me?” You smile brightly with encouragement.
That seemingly provides the necessary motivation to be direct. “Yes. Socially. As in … dinner …?” Though Emily did end the last part awkwardly and began to flick at her thumbnail that was lying against her thigh.
Now with Emily’s intentions clear, you take a step back in wonder. “You’re asking me … out?”
Seeing that you took a step back makes Emily frown, thinking you weren’t interested. “Well, I was …”
“And you came here. To ask me out.” Your continuation of confusion is making her slowly back up towards the exit.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I …” she loosens the hold she has on her stomach and gracelessly swings her arms as she is about to turn, and hits the linen cart, causing a pile of towels and washcloths to tumble onto the floor. “Oh my god! I am so sorry!”
She crouches down to pick them up as you do the same but sliding to your knees. This wasn’t your first laundry pile up in the ER. “Hey, it’s okay!”
“No, it’s not.” Emily’s pale face was flushing prettily, and it makes you smile. “I made a mess.”
“Sweetie, this isn’t even close to a mess in my ER. Ever drop a commode?” That makes her laugh and diffuses the tension between you a little, but she was avoiding eye contact with you.
You both work at cleaning up when the two of you end up grabbing a towel at the same time. There was a quick game of tug of war and that finally brought her eyes up to see you. She was nervous and expectant, ready to run off in a heartbeat.
You give her your answer. “Yes.”
Her head leans in with disbelief. “Yes … what?” She asks hesitantly, needing confirmation.
“Yes, I’ll go out with you.” And just like that, you broke your rule about dating officers. There was something enigmatically irresistible about her and Emily mustered the courage to come down to your place of work to ask you out. How sweet is that?
Emily is too fucking adorable as her face works through the shock of what you said. “Oh … kay.” She nods. “Good. I mean …” She grins wide and bright. “Great.”
You both remain on the floor for a couple of beats before you lower your head, eyes studying Emily with a coy look. “Does this mean I can have the towel back?”
She busts out laughing and finally lets go.
That was a little over a month ago and you found out on your first date that it was her partner, Morgan, that helped talk Emily through her concerns. She explained how he was not just a good friend but was also like a brother to her. You were happy that Emily took this chance, and it was the happiest time of your life. You never thought that you’d find a partner that was able to understand the demands of your job and education by someone not in healthcare. Emily’s job is mentally, physically and emotionally draining like yours and despite the differences in careers, you understand the depts of humanity. Emily saw the worst of it and tried to bring the criminals to justice or at least provide closure for the victims and families. You do the same in your own way trying to save as many lives as you can as well as being the one to break bad news to people who loved your patients fiercely. You also saw the worst in a different way – shootings, stabbings, rapes, protests gone ugly. You and DC metro had a lot to talk about a lot of time. But the times you make a child smile when feeling terrible, or provide information that eases the mind of a patient that was so scared of why they were sick, or even the simple bedside talk to show you were a human being that truly cared, it was worth all the shit you dealt with.
But in between the long hours and when Emily was out of town, you make time for one another. Simple dinners, going out to the movies, long walks discussing nothing and everything, but the best was when Emily took you to the Smithsonian to see the staff carefully place a Santa hat on the life size brontosaurus display since Christmas was just around the corner. You didn’t even know they did that, and Emily was so pleased with herself at seeing your face light up in wonder. You of course took a selfie together after it was placed, but it ended up being at an awkward angle where you both were laughing as you were pointing to the dinosaur.
When you weren’t together, you had long talks over the phone and constant texts when Emily was on a case to make sure she was doing alright, which she did for you too! You both cared about your workaholic selves and kept reminding each other to take a break, eat and drink more than just beer when off the clock. Emily was able to keep work at work when in the moment with you but you could hear the weight of Emily’s job straining her voice. A hint of raw insight to her true feelings. You never push. Your relationship was still new, and you both were still learning one another.
When Christmas came, you were coming off a sixteen-hour shift that started right before 7am Christmas Eve. You were exhausted, the status quo for any resident, but you were also determined. This was your first Christmas with Emily, and you wanted to make it special. She admitted that the relationship she has with her mother is complicated and didn’t need, nor want, to show her face at one of her mother’s extravagant Christmas parties. Emily would just be shown off for propriety’s sake. It was easier being home alone with leftovers that Rossi made on Christmas Eve of pasta, seafood, and amazing Italian beef and sausages right after midnight. Between that, the homemade cookies gifted to her by Garcia, and a six pack of Stella bottled beer, Emily settled in for the day watching Die Hard because it is, and always we be, a Christmas movie. If you wanted to disagree with her, Emily was ready to fight.
By mid-afternoon, John McClane is crawling through the air vents and iconically complaining about ‘Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…’ line when there’s a knock at Emily’s door. This confuses her because she wasn’t expecting anyone and you were at the hospital working. You told her that this morning over the phone during a break that, unsurprisingly, the hospital was short staffed, and they needed you. She put down Garcia’s festively colored frosted chocolate cookies and went to see who it was.
Which is why when she looks out through the peephole of the door, she gasps and quickly starts unlocking the door. She holds out her arms in surprise at the sight of you and speaks an octave higher in greeting. “What are you doing here?! You said you had to work tonight!”
She was all smiles seeing you … and you weren’t wearing your work clothes. You have on jeans, an ugly Christmas sweater that said ‘Fabulously Grinchy’ and arms full of bags. Emily was distinctively not festive on purpose with grey shorts and a baggy Yale sweatshirt. Even the black slippers were humdrum. It empowers you to see this and that you made the right decision to surprise her this way.
“Well, I lied,” you explain as she takes some of the bags from you. “Surprise!”
She steps aside to let you in and smells the familiar scents of pasta, sauce and bread. “What did you do?” she asks cautiously.
“I made Christmas dinner for us.” You beam, spinning around carefully in the living room with your arms out to display the bags. “Just need to warm it all up.
As you really did have to work long hours at the hospital, you enjoyed Skyping with your parents who lived of town while making homemade manicotti. It was your tradition to cook together, and it was nice to do it together this way. Thankfully you still had some frozen homemade pasta sauce that you could use and not be considered a heathen to your family because no daughter of theirs was going to serve their girlfriend pasta sauce from a jar.
“Oh my god,” she says your name and follows you quickly into the kitchen, trying to catch up. “You … you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble. And, really, why are you doing this? You’ve gotta be so tired after working a long shift. You should be relaxing.” Emily knew you did work today since she heard the intercom and all the various beeps, whirls and whistles of a hospital.
You left the bags on the island counter and start fiddling with the oven controls. “Eh, I’ve had worse.” You smirk over your shoulder. “So have you. Therefore, we deserve a nice Christmas not alone. Now. … ” you start looking for oven mitts and utensils by pulling out drawers and opening cabinets. You’ve been here once before and don’t have the lay of the land yet where Emily keeps everything.
What you didn’t know is that Emily is standing by the island counter with a firm grip on the edge because she is feeling a powerful rush of affection for you and a profound sense of guilt. She swallows hard and almost jerks with her movements in trying to find words to address you.
“Hey, Emily? Where’s the spatula? I don’t need to whisk anything, and you got like, three of them here.” With no answer, you turn around with the whisks in hand and a goofy smile which soon falls into a look of concern. Emily was staring at you with watery eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, quickly setting aside the whisks that roll around the counter. One drops and bounces off the floor, but you don’t care. You place your hands around Emily’s shoulders and rub soothing circles. “Talk to me, please.”
Her face scrunches to the side, still struggling with guilt. “You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re tired. You should be sleeping. Or resting. Or just –“
You cut her off by gently cupping her face. Your thumbs continue their gentle stroking along Emily’s cheeks. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” You smile with sincerity. “Only place I wanna be.”
“Fucking sap,” she says, curling her hands around your forearms. You both naturally bring your foreheads together in that moment and feel Emily’s shaky inhalation of breath. “I don’t deserve this.” She feels the need to clarify. “You.”
You close your eyes and ask nonjudgmentally. “Why?”
“Because I’m gonna mess it up. I always find a way to do it. Even if it’s not exactly me.” She sighs. “Like work, or my mother…”
“Hey, don’t do that.” You bring your hands down while lifting your head to gaze into Emily’s eyes. “Anticipating. We just gotta take it day by day and right now, I feel, that this is a good one.”
“Yeah?” she says quietly, licking her dry lips.
“Yeah,” you confirm, bringing one of her hands up to gently kiss. What you’re about to say you feel in your heart and it has been growing for the last week. Perhaps it was too soon to say it, but Emily deserves to know how you feel and that despite this being new, this was a relationship you were determined to see where it takes the both of you. “Maybe if I give you one of your presents, it’ll help you feel better?”
Her eyes look along the ceiling while she chucks. “Maybe.”
You lean forward and cup her cheek, gently caressing it until you lock eyes. “I love you, Emily Prentiss.”
Her audible gasp at the admission is swallowed by your lips gently kissing hers. The kiss was soft, a silent signature of proof to the words already spoken. It is affirmation that you want to be here with Emily, and you feel her free hand slide around your waist as she steps closer. The press of her body forces a sigh from your lips which makes Emily smile against yours.
“I love you, too.” She confesses quietly, pulling your joined hands against her chest. “And it scares me.”
“Well, here’s the good news.” Emily pulls back to look at you, brown eyes equally fearful and exhilarated, as she waits for what you must share. Your smile helps to ground her. “We get to be scared together.”
She laughs as a couple of tears fall free and you reach up to wipe them away. As she leans into your touch, Emily asks you a question since she has doubts about this gift of yours, no matter how much she treasures it. “Was that really one of my gifts?”
“No,” you admit and kiss her forehead. “But it’s all true. Consider it a bonus.”
Emily looks up to you with a smile that lights up the entire room. “Mm, I do like the sound of that,” she says before capturing your lips once again.
*Vetarans Affairs
*EMR - Electronic Medical Record
*H&P - History and Physical
#emily prentiss#criminal minds#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x female reader#emily x reader#emily x you#fic request#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you
196 notes
·
View notes
Text
— WHERE IS MY MIND?
SUMMARY : thinking dean is being annoying with his friendship with crowley. purposely teasing dean and leaving him wanting more, acting like nothing happened.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), the mark of cain, fluff, lots of teasing, sexy use of handcuffs and belts?, attempted anal play (fem. receiving, I thought I could, but sadly, it’s not my thing 😭)
WORD COUNT : 7.7K
A/N : title from the Pixies because that song is a vibe. inspired by BTS, doctor who, muse, coldplay, and obviously by watching this damn season lmao X
“How’s your new boyfriend?” Y/N asked, thumbing the spinning shark head on her blue pen as she stared at a newspaper. She didn’t look up at him, she didn’t have to. She could sense him, she could feel the way her skin tingled the way it always did when he was around. Like two planets, they were drawn to each other, fated by the physics of the universe to belong together, to stay close until they died and the universe became cold and empty with endless death.
Dean froze when he entered the dark library and heard her voice. He looked over at the small lamp Y/N was using to read the newspaper in the dark, the constant whirring of the pen as she twirled it sounded louder than it actually was in the quiet of the night.
“Stop that,” he grunted. She finally looked up at him and raised a brow, her eyes mostly mischievous rather than angry. He placed his duffle bag down on the table next to her scattered papers, their eyes locked on each other’s — asserting dominance.
“Stop this?” She asked, her thumb sliding along the spinning shark head so that the whir continued, and he clenched his jaw at her, his eyes narrowing at her calm face.
His eyes travelled over her beautiful face, analysing the warmth of her dilated eyes, to the blush on her cheeks, and the way her chest was rising a little faster than normal. He reached over and wrapped his fingers around hers to stop her and she blinked at him, an innocent smile tugging at her rosy lips, her eyes becoming wide like a little deer.
“Stop saying Crowley’s my lover,” he told her, his voice deep and threatening. He could read the playfulness in her eyes, the challenge as she lifted her chin just slightly, a smirk growing on her kissable lips now that she knew she had him trapped.
“Give me my pen,” she said calmly, tugging gently under his warm, thick fingers, but he only tightened his grip. She completely ignored him when he refused, turning away to read the newspaper, her hand still trying to pull out of his electric hold. “I dreamt about you and woke up dripping wet, which was nice,” she said nonchalantly, pretending to be distracted as she read the obituary of some old lady.
He blinked down at her, his fingers squeezing her hand which made her eyebrows rise, but she moved her attention to another boxed article instead of reacting. Still, a smile tugged at her lips and her breaths got quicker, like his, she noticed. “Kinda disappointing that you were too busy fucking around with Crowley to take care of that for me, had to take matters into my own... hands.”
He let go of her warm hand and she acted casually, as if she hadn’t just admitted to masturbating earlier today in their shared bed. Her pen touched the paper to circle something interesting and he growled her name softly at her irritating behaviour. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“Can I help you?” She asked, looking up at him innocently. Her eyes examined his face now, moving from his angry, creased eyebrows, to his green eyes, now clouded with lust and annoyance. Breaths were shallowly escaping from his beautiful nose, his lips were wet with his saliva and pink from biting them. She licked her own at the sight of their puffy state, and bit her lip at his stubble, remembering the tickle of the coarse little hairs of his jaw between her thighs.
She squeezed her legs instinctively when her cunt began to feel the echoes of pleasure from his tongue. Her eyes fluttered back up to his and she smiled sweetly, leaning forward to catch his lips in a kiss quicker than he could react, then she pulled away just as he was melting into it.
“I’m gonna shower now that I know you’re safe.” She put her pen down and he stood there, speechless, watching her fold the newspaper. “You know, since you were too entertained with your new friend to call or text to let me know you’re fine, or coming home late, at least.” She neatly organised her papers and he glared at her, his face hot with arousal and frustration. “You can join me, if you’d like, unless you already did that with Crowley. too,” She stood up, taking her cardigan off the chair, and finally looked up at his locked jaw. A grin spread over her lips and she made her way past him for only a few inches before he grabbed her arm firmly to stop her.
“You’re getting on my nerves,” he told her, his hot voice thick with desire and irritation. She turned around to face him and narrowed her eyes at him despite the warmth that pooled between her legs.
“You’re getting on mine,” she whispered, weakly tugging away from him. He grasped her tighter, then pulled her forward until she was pressed against his firm and warm body.
“Sit. Down,” he whispered harshly. When she didn’t listen, he manhandled her until she was turned around, and kicked the chair out with his foot for her to sit in. “Sit.”
She huffed out a defiant breath, pulling her arm out of his grip, “No.”
“Have it your way,” he growled, taking cuffs with etchings on it out of his black jacket. She looked at his face, incredulous as he took her forearm in his large hand to slap one cuff around her wrist and the other to the chair. “Sit,” he ordered, snatching the cardigan from her to drop over his duffle bag. When she didn’t listen, he gripped her shoulder tightly and he pushed her down until she plopped down on the wooden chair. She pouted at the cuffs and then glared up at him.
“You know, I can easily get out of these,” she informed him, tugging halfheartedly at the cold metal that bound her to the chair.
“So why don’t you?” He smirked, his hand gently wrapping around her throat. She instinctively circled his wrist with her free hand and he moved his to grasp the soft locks at her nape instead.
“I like this chair,” she shrugged, letting him pull her hair to force her head to tip back. He hummed softly, smirking when she hissed at the slight sting in her scalp, leaning forward to peck her lips once. He groaned softly at the spark-like feeling that covered his mouth when it immediately made contact with hers, like stardust scattering over his lips as they brushed against hers.
“Where’s Sam?” He asked softly when he let her hair go. She settled into the chair, watching him lean back to remove his jacket while biting her lip.
“Sleeping,” she replied tonelessly. She stared at his athletic body, entranced by the way he slowly slipped his indigo flannel off to be folded haphazardly over the table with his jacket. He sat on the table and grinned at her, lifting his foot between her slightly parted legs, he slowly undid the knot of his laces and then did the same to the other boot. They fell loudly on the wooden floor when he kicked them off, revealing some adorable banana socks that made her smile softly.
When she lifted her gaze up to his face, she shamelessly admired his body in the black t-shirt, the way it stretched over his chest and broad shoulders, the short sleeves exposing the muscles of his freckled arms. He was gorgeous. More importantly, he was hard. She dropped her eyes between his legs, his crotch practically right in front of her, and she cocked an eyebrow at the tent in his tight jeans. God, they did wonders for his fantastic ass.
She tugged at the cuffs, wanting to free herself of them. He looked down at her wrist and then raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” He asked innocently, using one hand to undo his belt, the other moved one of her rebellious strands of hair into place. She stared at his busy hand, her eyes glittering with excitement the way they always did with his adept skill of being able to remove his belt one-handedly rather fast. She didn’t know if she wanted to squeeze her legs together or spread them apart farther for him. “You’re so quiet,” he murmured, then he slid the belt out of his jean’s loops.
“Is there something you wanna hear, Dean?” She grumbled, her free hand reaching over to palm at his cock over his jeans.
“F-fuck,” he groaned, staring down at her hand, allowing her to touch him just for a few moments. “No touching, you’ve been too annoying tonight,” he grunted. She pouted at him, squeezing his cock defiantly. He moaned, surprised. He took her wrist quickly and used his belt to tie her only freehand to the chair.
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
He glared at her and she smiled at him sarcastically, tugging at his belt to test its tightness. The leather creaked with her movement and he grinned.
He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, getting off the table to kick them off completely while looking at her to make sure she was not actually pissed at him. When she smiled at him distractedly, he removed his shirt and she licked her lips at the sight of his flat stomach and the v on his hips that led down to what she secretly wanted most, what was hidden beneath his black boxers. He had the tiniest waist too. Fuck, all those layers of clothes he wore didn’t do his gorgeous body any justice.
She was getting wetter and wetter by the second as she admired him like he was a worshipped sculpture in a museum, created by Michelangelo himself. Her body was slowly becoming warm like a spring sun and her heart was beating rapidly like the beat of a glorious song, excited to see him, to feel him, to get closer to him.
“Dean,” she said firmly. His cock jumped at the way she said his name and he looked at her face with his breath caught in his throat, and then his eyes dropped down to the creaking leather of his favourite belt and over to the clinking chains of the cuffs.
“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warned her breathlessly.
She pursed her lips to stop herself from begging and she looked away from him, her eyes sticking to the blue journal Sam got her last Christmas. She didn’t want him to see the pleas in her eyes and she ignored him when he pulled his boxers down slowly. The creaking of leather, the small chains rattling, they gave her away, and she wanted to moan, to rub her thighs together, but she refused.
Her head snapped towards him when he pulled her chair she was sitting in closer to him. The wooden legs squeaked against the floor and she looked down to make sure no marks would be left behind. It would normally piss Dean off to see the wood ruined, but obviously, he could do what he wanted. She narrowed her eyes at him when she looked up at him.
Her gaze reluctantly flickered down to his cock. Even his dick was perfect, it was truly unfair. It stood erect, throbbing, pink, with mouth-watering beads of precum that made her insides quiver. She swallowed thickly and lifted her eyes back up to his stupid, smug face.
“I don’t like you right now,” she pouted, turning away from him.
He chuckled as he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. She kept her lips pressed together, refusing to kiss him back, and didn’t open up when his tongue swiped across the seam, silently asking for permission to enter.
He pulled away and contemplated her body language for a few moments. “Open up,” he told her darkly.
“No,” she pouted. He sighed dramatically, pushing himself off the table and she straightened up, squirming a little when he walked behind her. His fingertips gently brushed over her bare shoulders, the voltage of his touch igniting her skin like the neurons firing in her brain, and she shivered. He reached over for the hair band on the table that she had been playing with earlier and tied her hair into a messy ponytail.
She gripped the arms of the chair, panting a little when he stopped touching her. She could only feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, his nose ghosting along her jaw, and she licked her lips as they became dry with the air that slipped past her parted mouth. His lips brushed against her ear and she bit her lip, her spine tingling at the sensation of having him so close behind her without doing anything. She turned her face slightly to gaze at him and he forced her to look forward, his fingers harshly holding her jaw in place.
“Don’t,” his hushed voice warned.
He walked back around to face her, his eyes trailing over her body. He hummed softly as he looked at the cropped tube shirt she wore. The white, soft cotton covering her chest was convenient for easy removal down her body—like a skirt. And she was wearing a pink jean skirt. He got down on his knees and she blinked down at him, wiggling a little when his fingers undid the silver button at her waist.
“Up,” he told her, tugging the skirt down her hips and she did as she was told, this time. She lifted her hips up off the chair, letting him drag the skirt down her legs and off her completely. He left it with his jeans on the floor and started to pull down the shirt she was wearing that had a little pink heart at the centre. She was wearing a beige strapless bra underneath and he pouted at the sight of it. It made her break her stubborn and bratty character and she smiled at him with amusement.
He removed the shirt slowly, then reached behind her to unclasp the bra and he bit his lip at the sight of her round breasts, a hum of appreciation resounding in his chest. The sound made her shift a little in the chair, he noticed it, his ego absorbing the pleasure of knowing what the smallest things he did did to her.
Her beige panties were haphazardly hanging onto her hips from the amount of times he’d dragged clothes over them and the sight of them aroused him. “You like making things hard for me, don’t you?” He grabbed her knees and pushed them apart, then grabbed her hips and pulled them forward so her ass was barely on the chair.
“Not things,” she rolled her eyes, then very matter-of-factly said, “your cock.” She smiled innocently and he had to laugh. The sound made her eyes soften and she melted a little, a real smile spreading over her face like butter on warm pancakes.
“I don’t think I can keep you tied up for much longer,” he admitted, smiling lovingly at her. He looked away and hooked a finger under her panties to push them aside and look at her pussy.
“Well, sweetheart, I think I quite enjoy being tied up,” she told him offhandedly.
He hummed distractedly, “I can tell.”
He parted her wet folds with two fingers and she squirmed at the cool air of the room that hit her wetness and then his warm breath made her moan. She wanted to shut her legs out of sudden coyness, but his broad shoulders between her parted knees stopped her.
He suddenly flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen clit and she gasped at the little spark of pleasure, her toes curling in her pink ankle boots. Her stomach fluttered and she looked down at him, catching his watchful gaze, and she blushed, her confidence slipping away as light travelling through vacuum space.
He noticed and smirked, nuzzling her thigh with his stubble, then kissing her pelvis. “Dean,” she whispered.
“Where’d my annoying, bratty, little girlfriend go?” He teased, then his mouth returned to her sex. He moved his tongue leisurely, tasting the arousal at her entrance with a moan, dragging his tongue through her folds, up to her clit, until she was panting heavily. He smirked, lazily continuing to massage the swollen little pearl before moving to her entrance again, just to taste her dripping juices. “You’re so wet,” he purred against her, his words muffled from him not moving away from her heat to speak.
“Shit,” she whispered, feeling conflicted on whether to stare at him or close her eyes with her head tipped back.
“Makes it real easy for my big cock to slip inside your tight.. hot.. needy little cunt.” She swallowed a moan, fidgeting with the discomfort of her arousal and the gradual attention he was giving her. He grabbed her ass, lifting it slightly off the chair, and thrusted his tongue into her entrance. Her breath hitched at the warmth inside her and she tightened around his tongue, struggling against the two different materials around her wrists that kept her bound to the chair.
He continued to plunge his tongue in and out of her, imitating the movement his cock made when he fucked her. She wanted to break out and pull his hair as she watched him, he looked too pretty and arrogant between her shaky legs. The sight of him looking at her through his beautiful, curled lashes while his nose nudged her clit made her whine, her face flushed and her skin sweaty from the intensity of his teasing.
He slipped his tongue inside her, pushing as deep as he could, and wiggled it inside her. “What the fuck?” She gasped, moaning out in surprise at the nice sensation. Then, she yelped when his tongue slipped out and he lapped at her asshole. No one had ever done that—and to be fair she did not have a long list of sex partners, there was only Dean in her list of people she’d had sex with, and he’d never done that before. “No!” She squealed, easily lowering her hips, then she pushed the chair away from him as he chuckled.
“You really don’t like that, huh?” He laughed and she smiled, shaking her head bashfully. “Okay, I’ll take note of that,” he murmured, then shuffled closer to her again. She slowly parted her thighs for him, her teeth digging into her lip, as he placed his mouth back on her sex. He parted her folds with two fingers and used his tongue to play with her clit, his tongue brushing between his fingers with each passive stroke of tongue, just to make her squirm again, and she giggled breathlessly.
“Dean,” she moaned. He pulled away at the sound and stood on his knees to kiss her. This time, she opened up to him readily. She didn’t care that he was smearing her arousal onto her lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue as it rolled against hers like soft waves. He dragged his two fingers down to her wet hole, slipping his middle finger inside, pushing in and out gradually. He swallowed her moan, pushing against her lips needily, until they were kissing desperately, wishing to somehow get closer.
“I’m just waiting for you to beg, angel,” he whispered against her lips. He added another finger inside her, scissoring them inside her to prepare her for his cock. His cock which ached and hardened at the feeling of her wetness trickling down his palm and knuckles.
“I don’t do that,” she whispered defiantly. He shook his head, keeping his lips close to hers, brushing like leaves on branches did to each other, their breaths tangling. She felt lightheaded with arousal and she just wanted to eat him up like a Leviathan or something. Wow, loving aggression.
“Suit yourself,” he told her quietly. He slipped his fingers out of her and stood up, using his wet fingers to stroke his painfully erect cock. He pressed his fingers against the throbbing veins of his cock, teasing himself, massaging just underneath the head of his cock, drawing out more precum from the slit. He used his thumb to gather it, then popped his finger into her mouth so she could taste him.
She felt a new wave of wetness exude from her cunt at the taste of him, her cheeks turning warmer, redder, when he cupped the back of her head and lined his cock up with her mouth. Her mouth watered and she willfully opened up for him, letting her hot mouth engulf his heavy cock.
She looked up at him, her eyes pretty, like her red lips that rimmed his cockhead. He moaned down at the sight of her, teasing himself, testing his patience as he pushed only the tip in and out of her mouth. Her tongue teased his slit, circling the frenulum, and lapping at the precum as she drooled around him.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he praised, letting go of his cock, to push more of himself into her. She sucked at him, her tongue slithering along the bottom, moving her head back and forth, she let him guide her.
He dragged his fingers down to her chest, kneading her breasts, squeezing the warm flesh in his large hand. “I bet you’re all achy and wet, you little brat,” he growled, pushing himself all the way down her throat. She choked and made a surprised sound, her teeth brushing gently against his sensitive cock to warn him.
He hissed, pinching her nipple roughly so her throat constricted around him to stop noise from coming out, and he moaned at the feeling. He chuckled at her glare, feeling her knees try to close around his legs as he stood between them. He moaned softly again, pushing in and out of her throat roughly, her throat made obscene sounds as he fucked her face, and he stopped when he felt his orgasm approaching.
Her pretty eyes were tearing up, glassy with tears, her long lashes sticking together from a few tears that were falling from his relentless throat fucking, but she didn’t mind. He brought his hand to her reddened cheek, caressing her hot face, and brushing tears away, losing himself in his lust all at once.
He mercifully unlocked the cuffs from around her wrist and he kissed her deeply. She pulled her mouth away from him and he just stared---a gasp escaping him---as she swiftly used one hand to remove his belt from her wrist. It was faster than his brain could keep up with and before he knew it, she was pushing him into the table, her hand wrapping around his cock to stroke him quickly while her other hand moved to his nape to bring his mouth down to hers again.
He moaned loudly, shamelessly throwing his head back, abandoning her mouth as his lips parted to verbalise his pleasure. “God, I wanna make you cum like this,” she told him quietly.
“I have other plans,” he moaned. Y/N bit her lip as he spoke, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement when he looked down at her. “They involve you, only you,” he whispered and then tensed up, about to cum.
He turned them around so that she could sit on the table, easily hoisting her up with his hands on the curve of her waist, forcing her to let go of his cock all at once. He breathed shakily as his cock twitched, aching and longing to spill at last, inside her or on her heated skin. He groped her sides lovingly, worshipping her body with his big hands, squeezing the fleshy parts until he felt like he could continue without cumming in five seconds.
They both breathed heavily, their skins charged with electricity and sweaty from the heat of their aroused state. She admired him quietly, the flex in his muscles from his effort to regain control and his composure. His touch took her breath away, like his gentle kisses along her fiery skin. She didn’t want to look away from him, or stop touching him either as he mouthed at her neck and bit at her collarbones. His sharp teeth dragging along with his tongue to taste her sweat and the natural flavour of her skin beneath the sheen. His plump lips suctioned at her body, leaving behind territorial marks that he licked at while she dug her nails into his strong body.
He felt weak in the knees holding her. Felt like giving into the intoxicating urge to fuck her with abandon when he heard the soft sounds she made when he touched her, when she pulled at his hair and made him grunt. When she squirmed and dropped her forehead on his shoulder, her chest rising and falling unevenly with stuttered breaths. He made his path down to her breasts. His teeth scraped at her nipples, sucking at the tight buds as she arched into him, inviting him to give her more. He moaned softly, dragging his mouth back up to her face and dropping messy kisses along her jaw until his lips were ghosting over hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She blinked at him, dazed with his love, her mind hazy with thoughts only of him. She held his face in her hands, confused. She didn’t stay confused much longer because he kissed her. The kiss was slow and breathy which made it even hotter. It was the way he panted against her parted lips when he pulled away—just a few millimetres, just for a millisecond, then lazily pulled her close, cupping the back of her head with one of his hands and slipped his tongue back into her mouth.
He held her waist with his other hand, pulling her closer to the edge of the table, moving himself as close as he could between her parted legs, until his hot cock was touching her warm skin. She gave him control of the kiss, melted into him as his velvety tongue swiped over hers, exploring all of her, feeling the familiar space he’d tasted many times before, until he changed the kiss again.
He pecked her lips once they’d closed up a little, and pressed firmly, like a promise. A promise that only he knew, a promise she was unaware of. She felt content, felt the worry and fear of the Mark of Cain slip from her mind when he started to undo her hair again. He was sucking on her bottom lip and tasting the ghostly remains of her favourite lip tint—rose petals—with a satisfied moan.
Once her hair was free again, he moved his hand back to his cock, and pulled away. Her mouth was red, lips swollen and gorgeous, all he wanted to do was kiss her again but he denied himself the pleasure and instead bit his lip. She moved her hands off him, placed her palms on the table and followed his gaze as he watched himself drag his leaking cock through her weeping folds.
Upon contact with her warmth, he moaned. He felt so aroused, when he towered over her, he had to place one of his hands flat on the table close to her hand to stabilise himself. She was writhing slightly, panting each time he brushed against her swollen clit, and he couldn’t even tolerate his own teasing anymore either.
He kissed her forehead like he always did, aligning the tip of his cock with her entrance and slowly pushed into her. He inspected her face to make sure she was good, groaning at the sight of pleasure that dawned on her face as he pushed in just an inch of himself. He withdrew slightly so she could adjust to the pressure and the stretch of him, then shoved in just a little more.
“Umm,” she whimpered, her hand flattening over his sweaty chest was her silent signal that she felt like she couldn’t take him. She could feel the rapid hammering of his heart against her palm and she clenched around him, eyes locking onto his to see past the madness of his lust, a tender fire that devoured everything else like a hungry beast.
He could read it all in her eyes too, her love, the way her adoring gaze blanketed over his entire soul, making him feel so loved and safe. It made his stomach flutter, made him feel like just pushing all the way in—just to feel closer to her. Instead, he brought his hand to her clit, rubbing slowly as he withdrew again and pushed back in, deeper. “You’re taking me so fucking good, baby,” he reassured her, his voice raspy and thick with lust.
The sound of him so wrecked made her shudder, temporarily closing her eyes and leaning back slightly in hopes of getting him inside her more easily. He kept his pace slow, mindful of her body, her limits, the way he always did as he pushed himself into her. He nuzzled her cheek and kissed her jaw, breathing unstably by her ear, “just a little more,” he murmured, looking away from her eyes to check that there was, in fact, just a bit more of his thick length that she had to take.
She stared at him for a few moments, studied the aroused fascination that brightened his honeydew eyes and with demure hesitation, she let herself look down too. She watched him pull out just a little, revealing how wet she left him and she gasped, a flurry of excited butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
It made him look up at her, his eyes knowing, gleaming with pride. He had her right where he wanted her, he always did. He pushed himself into her all the way, still gentle, he leaned over her a little, his arm wrapping around her waist so she’d hold onto him instead of balancing on the table, letting her adjust as he dropped kisses over her shoulders and the side of her neck. The scrape of his stubble tickled, but she found it more sexy than uncomfortable.
She wiggled beneath him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck with one hand flat on the table as she brought his mouth to hers. “I’m okay,” she murmured against his lips. He nodded and moaned softly, moving his two hands under her thighs, lifting her up slightly until she was only able to hold onto him.
He pulled his hips back and thrusted into her, feeling her arms squeeze him slightly. He cursed under his breath, twitching inside her at the feeling of her walls dragging along his cock. His pace was still slow, his breath catching as he felt the velvety ridges of her wet walls tightening around him. Only the head of his cock remained inside her and he pushed in slowly, his breaths shaky and shallow.
“Y/N,” he moaned, placing her back down when his hips were flush against hers. He gently pushed her down onto her back with a hand on her sternum. He slowly slid his hand down to her tummy, his eyes locked on hers, both of them more patient and tender than usual, but he knew the reason why as his arm ached. He lifted her feet up to the table, spreading her out more, pushing himself all the way---deeper---until he could feel her cervix if he swivelled his hips.
“Dean,” she mewled, her lips parted as she tipped her head back, her eyebrows furrowing while her eyes fluttered close. She reached out for his wrists, her hands sliding up until her hand rested over the Mark, squeezing reassuringly. He looked down at her small hand, her lavender nails creating crescent moons as she tried to reach all the way around his arm. “Please, move,” she finally begged, lifting her hips up a little to encourage him.
He admired her the whole time he started to thrust into her. His eyes stuck on her body as she jolted up the table slightly only for his hands to keep her hips planted where they were. Her breasts jiggled, abandoned and covered in small marks from his mouth and he twitched inside her, a grunt leaving his throat. Everything about her turned him on, the way they locked eyes, like a passing meteor getting pulled in by Earth’s gravity, they could only stare at each other.
He loved her so much, he didn’t want to look away. He needed her more than the air he breathed. She was everything to him. The only reason he smiled everyday, the only reason the weight of his guilt and shame didn’t crush him. It was the tenderness of her eyes like a Magellanic Cloud, the way she cut through the darkness in his life like a galaxy hurtling through space.
He, on the other hand, was a dimming and dying galaxy until she collided with him, dragging him along for the ride and perfectly melding into each other so that her stars were his, so that her planets and her suns also belonged to him, so that he could never remember or comprehend where he began or where he ended, only that he’d always find her at the end of his despair and at the start of every joy.
She brought life to him like a sun, terraforming him, blossoming his withering hopes and dreams. Her love for him grew like the universe itself, every moment expanding into the nothingness beyond, utterly unrestricted.
“Fuck, I…” he whispered brokenly. He couldn’t always bring himself to say ‘I love you’ and it frustrated him how awkward the words felt on his tongue, and it’s not like he’s never said them before. It was terrifying, especially in moments like these. It was serious and it was real. And he felt that that was exactly why he should say those words, that in moments like these it’s exactly the right moment to let them slip out. But he couldn’t. He found them easy to type, to press the button, and send it to her so she could read them.
He momentarily gave up on his admission and brought his hand down to her clit to rub quick circles. Like the final bit of pressure needed for a star to be born, the bursts of pleasure became overwhelming as she clamped down on him, drawing a growl from deep within his chest as she came. His name poured from her lips like traces of stardust and CMBR as she trembled on the table, his thumb slowly drawing out her orgasm as his warm release spurted into her.
He grunted her name mindlessly, swivelling his hips, pushing to keep his cum as deep inside her as physically possible until he was spilling out of her from how full she was. He didn’t care about what Sam would say if he walked in, he only cared about claiming her and filling her up. His soul burned with pride and fervour knowing she’d be wet and full inside for days with his cum as she walked around and worked, that her cunt and clit would be swollen from his usage for the next hours, sore from the penetration of his cock, her skin bruised by his hands and mouth, and her nipples tight from his tongue and fingers.
“Umm,” she started quietly. He snapped out of his daze, a lazy smile growing on his lips as he looked into her soft eyes, but didn’t dare to slip out of her. He lifted a hand to move a few strands of hair away from her flushed face and saw her perk up slightly. “Funny how I was annoying you earlier…” she trailed off, her fingers brushing against the Mark, relaxing him.
He hummed softly, shaking his head. “You’re not annoying,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against her cheek. She smiled at him, an adoring tenderness radiating from her features like sunlight that flustered him. “I.. I am sorry,” he whispered.
“Hmm? What for?” Her voice was quiet and curious, stunned about his second apology.
“You know.. Crowley, for not calling or texting, for everything before that if I haven’t apologised, and for everything after, just in case I’m too stupid to realise I’m wrong,” he told her, just a little bit of guilt and shame making him look away.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft, like everything else about her, and he looked up at her again when she tugged at his arms. “I’m always going to forgive you,” she informed him, then shut her eyes as if he wasn’t allowed to argue with her. She hummed softly at his thoughtful silence, her hands reaching out for his hips, pulling him into her so he’d brush her cervix again as a way to distract him.
“Sam… He, uh,” Dean paused to laugh sadly, “he gave me the talk.. the ‘don’t hurt her’ talk when you and me started.. dating, when I.. popped outta Hell,” he spoke up randomly. She remembered, it felt like just yesterday he was having nightmares of what he’d done in Hell---even now, there was still the aftermath of Hell affecting him. She lifted a brow, opening her eyes, and tilting her head like a puppy to give him her undivided attention.
Then, she smiled, images of Sam acting like the overprotective brother that Dean once played entertained her. “Oh.”
“I always knew no one could love like you do, and I wanted to.. uh, hold onto that innocence, that goodness in you, your kindness… I thought it’d wither away, but looking at you now, there’s only… more of it. I don’t know how… but you still care and love and feel so deeply.” He finally pulled out of her, biting his lip as he shamelessly watched himself slip out while his cum followed.
“What are you trying to say?” She didn’t notice what he was enthralled by, too caught up in trying to analyse his words, so he blinked away his arousal and picked up his folded shirt to clean her up.
“I don’t wanna taint that, I don’t wanna ruin it, to make you… lose that. I love you so much for it, and I have… this,” he pointed to the Mark on his arm, “so I know I won’t be.. stay good.. like you. I’ll be a demon, just evil, cold, and dark…” he trailed off, focusing on cleaning her up while feeling her eyes probing his very soul without even having to slip into the doors of his eyes.
“Don’t.. do you think… that now, as a human, you’re nothing more than that?” Her voice was quiet, like she didn’t actually want to know the answer, as if it’d break her to know the truth. She shooed his hand away as she sat up, her eyes never once straying from what she could see of his face.
“Well, yeah, I mean, that’s why Cain gave me this thing, because I was worthy or whatever,” he mumbled, busying himself by putting both their dirty clothes into the duffle bag to wash later. “Not something I should be proud of bein’ worthy of,” he muttered, putting his boxers on. She was quiet for a moment and let him dress her in his flannel as she tried to find her next words.
“He’s wrong, he doesn’t know you, not really,” she started. He caged her with his arms, his hands flat on either side of her hips and he finally looked up at her, their faces really close, but far enough for her to see his scepticism. “So, he’s seen like.. point one percent of what you are, you are so much more, Dean.” She hid her face in his neck, kissing his tattoo before she pulled away to add, “I look up to you, so.. if you love who I am, just know it’s because of you… that I am this way..”
“What?” He blinked, pulling back just to make sure he heard right, his brain incapable of retaining the meaning of her words.
“What? You really don’t know?” She asked with disbelief, a sad smile washing over her face. “That’s somewhat endearing actually,” she murmured with a somewhat sad, little laugh. She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, a little sigh drifting between her lips. “The first thing I noticed when I met you was how kind you are. How you took care of Sam.. then I found out you’ve done it all your childhood and you didn’t complain.”
“It wasn’t your job, you could’ve just.. not done it, but you did. With no reward, no thanks, nothing. You could’ve lied and ‘taken care of him’---no one was watching---but you still did it, and he had a better childhood than you. In fact, he’s turned out quite wonderful. You made him want more, made him feel worthy, valuable, which is why he went off to college.”
“You shielded him as much as you could from hunting, that for him there was actually a way out. Something you couldn’t see for yourself because you made it your job to take all the weight. Then, you took care of me and tried doing the same. And.. well, if you love who I am, thank yourself, Dean. You were like a hero to me, different from your dad, different from all the hunters I’d seen, and I thought, ‘this.. he is what I want to be, not a killer, not a thoughtless, violent, bloodthirsty, unchanging hunter---a hero’. I loved you for it back then too.”
“Then, when we were hunting together---all three of us, to look for your dad… I saw more of you.. there were the random kids you saved… how gentle you were---and still are---with them. You’ve shown mercy to monsters, to people who could be considered dangerous. You changed your mind about what hunting’s all about, you’ve evolved past killing anything that isn’t human, you’ve grown, and other hunters stick with the same ‘all monsters are killers and need to die’ motto. You’ve realised that they’re just like us too. That they can be different and.. fuck, if that’s not goodness, then I don’t know what you wanna call it.”
“You’ve done everything you’ve done—even getting this damned Mark—out of love, for the world, or for Sam, or whoever, because you’re good. I’ve seen all these billions of different, tiny, bits and pieces of you, and.. to me.. you’re.. like a whole universe, filled with light, hope, love, life, sadness, pain, grief, and you’re so fucking beautiful I’m just.. overwhelmed with how much I adore you for being who you are. I would never ask you to change.”
“And you’re still trying to save everyone. You, Sam, and even Cas might not always succeed when you try to do something you think is right or good to try to save the ones you love or the world, but the point of being a good man is that you’re even trying at all. No one sees you, no one tells you to, no one thanks you for it, you just help people because it’s right, because it’s the least you could do, above all, you do it because you’re kind, Dean.”
Silence fell over them momentarily as Dean let her words sink in. His mind worked quickly to absorb her sentiment and her love for him, and he wanted to cry. Tears of happiness and adoration stung his eyes and he blinked them away, swallowing past the tightness in his throat that made a strained whimper melt away, stopping it from making its way out.
“Y/N..”
“You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know that, I just want you to hear the truth from someone who loves you and knows who you really are. Someone who accepts you as you are and doesn’t try to change you.. or.. act like all you are is.. bad. I see you, at your core, your very soul and your mind.. all of you… is just.. glorious. Nothing needs to be added to you or changed or removed because you’re already perfect, and anyone who doesn’t see that is a daft cow and their opinions don’t matter, obviously. You’re my everything and I love you,” she murmured, smiling playfully.
“You’re so…” He broke into a smile too, his hands landed on her hips and he pulled her closer to him, their faces inching closer. Close enough for their breaths to make them dizzy with a more tender haze of desire washing over them.
“Shh, let me.. I love you,” she whispered lazily against his lips. She kissed him deeply, both of them smiling and trying not to laugh as their lips moved together.
“You’re delirious,” he mumbled, entertained by her playfulness.
She pulled away from the kiss, her legs wrapping around his hips with her ankles locked together. She nuzzled into his neck again, finding a comfortable position and whispering, “shh, I said I love you, let’s go to sleep.”
“Not in our... bed?” He suggested with a chuckle, kissing her head.
“Oh. Right.. yes.” She pulled away, hopping off the table and fixing his shirt she was wearing. He bit his lip, claiming her waist under the open shirt with his hands. He pushed the shirt open more with his forearms to admire her nakedness.
“It’s okay, I love you.” He smiled like a dork as he kissed her forehead.
“You’re adorable when you say that,” she grinned, circling his waist with her arms. He blinked down at her, his eyes lighting up when he backtracked and remembered what had slipped from his mouth.
“I.. uh, sorry for not saying it more often,” he mumbled, still a little proud of himself for saying it at all.
“Don’t worry. It’s pretty hard for me to say it to you sometimes..” she confessed bashfully. Of course she’d understand that he had difficulty saying those words, as overdue as they were. She knew he’d found other ways to express it, everything he does for her he does out of love. At least now he knows there’s nothing he needs to overthink. She really knows him. She really sees him.
taglist
@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87
main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#dean winchester smut#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#6.8
293 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3
a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao
warnings: minor injury detail gn reader
Perfect - Anthony Lockwood
The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.
There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"
"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."
"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."
"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."
He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."
You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."
"Ah, I'll cope."
"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."
"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."
If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.
The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.
He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.
"You got this from a glass door, right?"
You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."
His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.
He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.
For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.
"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."
He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"
"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
"Do."
But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.
"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."
His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.
And, as if having read your mind, he does.
If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.
"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.
You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.
"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"
He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.
"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.
"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."
A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.
It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.
It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.
"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."
You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"
The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.
That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.
You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.
"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"
Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"
You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.
Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.
Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.
You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."
"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.
"Well, if you're so sure -"
Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.
#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood and co fanfiction#lockwood and co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george karim#x reader#fanfiction#givemea-dam-break
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
4 minutes ep 1 raw reactions
idk if i'm gonna delve too deep into this and do my normal analysis so for now i'll just type up my raw reactions as i'm watching lmao.
the title sequence is fucking stunning, obsessed.
ooh he has a maine coon. rich boy maybe? expensive cat and nice apartment.
i really enjoy that the heartbeat sounds in the elevator scene sound like a heartbeat heard through an ultrasound. very interesting.
but umm. if you're having severe chest pain and trouble breathing please see yourself to the hospital my friend???
oh ok definitely a rich boy, hello fancy car.
AAAAAA BAS, IT'S BAS, LSKJGAI MY LOVE, GOD HE LOOKS SO GOOD
the music in this show is fucking gorgeous but like... also why so dramatic
ok so korn: transport -> investments (secret operation??? tf?) and they want great: university -> transport. got it.
ooh 12:39 okay i see you.
ooh 12:43 ok, 4 minutes, i'm listening.
OH. OH DON'T RUN THO
also like why was there a pedestrian in there???
OH. OK. INTERESTING.
i also hate that great initially ran bc now it's gonna take so much for me to like his char, which i'm sure is the point but still (;′⌒`)
aah. okay. i understand. it seems like she didn't want to do it tho. like yeah maybe suicide but... kinda seemed like suicide under coercion? or some form of intense external pressure.
HOLY SHIT JOB. THEY LET HIM OUT OF THE BE ON CLOUD VAULT. RUN BBY YOU'RE FREE.
HE'S SO THIN??? BBY ARE YOU EATING OKAY? i mean good for him if it was healthy and what he wanted tho.
this other doctor is so fucking hot tho who the fuck are you sir god DAMN. jaw for days.
ooh those dark spots on the ultrasound look like internal bleeding.
OH I'M SO SEXY AND SMART.
sexy doctor why shifty eyed??? i have a weird feeling about him. ok his name is tyme. as of rn we do not trust tyme.
more gorgeous music tho.
oh don't twirl your scissors like a douche.
he's got dead eyes and not much for facial expressions, he's freaking me out.
ew you don't even know your patient's name??? I DO NOT LIKE HIM SAM I AM, I DO NOT LIKE TYME EGGS AND HAM.
ok i dont like tyme but i WOULD like to see him and job's character fuck nasty. i am not immune to yaoi propaganda.
GOD BAS IS SO HOT I CAN'T GET OVER IT. I'VE MISSED HIM SO FUCKING MUCH. i love bible a lot but bas is everything to me. i used to reblog the same picture of him everyday. that's my sweet cheese, my good time boy, my rotten soldier.
oh i don't like this set up tho. this feels human trafficky. or like a no way in no way out. mmmm baby what do y smell is it death? OH LMAO IT'S GAMBLING. same thing kinda.
korn seems sensitive to smells, or maybe just smoke. he's just like me fr.
oooh curly hair girl isn't here to gamble, she's here for info of some kind.
OH BOYFRIEND TIME. OHHH OH I GET TO SEE BAS KISS MEN. LIKE I KNEW BC I SAW THE GIFS WHEN IT FIRST STARTED BUT UGH. I WAS NOT PREPARED. FUCK HE'S SO HOT. I CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS. HELP.
the fact that he opens up to his boyfriend and talks about his troubles as much as he reasonably can o(T ▽ To)
oh my god get OFF HIM there's no way your refractory period is that short.
not a huge fan of how korn came over, dumped his issues, had sex, and left tho. not great.
obsessed with this asymmetrical collar of great's shirt tho.
yeah i do love that no one fucking asks if great is ok, how he's doing, etc. he just went through something horribly traumatic and he could've been hurt, like. yuck. and his mom seems sweet but the fake sweet, like saccharine.
ooh why does his watch say 11:00??? something's gonna happen, huh.
fuck bas has an fantastic ass. i know we saw it but it somehow looks even better in those pants, my god.
7:13...
ugh i love brothers that can only be (mostly) themselves around each other. i really hope that's the direction this is going. two gorgeous gorgeous men on my screen, just an absolute feast for my eyes.
omg wait. wait. korn doesn't like the smell of cigarettes and he doesn't want great smoking. is there cigarette trauma? or does his dislike of cigarettes come from his concern for his brother's health?
OH facial expressions from tyme!! what a little grandma's boy.
11 am....
exploring the psychological depths of near-death experiences. the '4-minutes' phenomenon.
INCHRESTING. was manee coerced into suicide by someone trying to obtain a real time test subject for this phenomenon???
ooh he took the stairs today.
4th floor... 1:10 (13:10)... room 4... 1:11 (13:11)... ran into tyme outside room 1... at 1:14 (13:14)...
so in theory is each cardiac event he's suffering technically a near-death moment which is triggering the 4 minutes phenomenon where he has an out of body moment where he can see future events???
oooh he ran into him again. perhaps to show some things are simply inevitable?
damn the end sequence is gorgeous too.
fuck. i might be obsessed. uh oh.
god damn it sammon, you got me again.
wait so back to when it was 7:13pm... 19:13... 9+1=10, 3+1=4 so more 1s and 4s ₍ ˶•̀⤙•˶ ₎ hmmm
idk if i'm cooking or burning the kitchen down but i'm excited to find out
#oat reacts#4 minutes#4 minutes the series#tymegreat#bible wichapas#bas asavapatr#job yosatorn#fuaiz thanawat#jes jespipat
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
how long can you stand the heat || ot7
Warnings: Uhhh, none I think? Non-graphical smut and slight angst, but that's pretty much it for now since I'm still crafting the next part, and some curse words lmao.
I won't control you, but MDNI. This is not for you, please.
Pairings: OT7/(F) Reader, Jackson Wang/(F) Reader
Plot: The one where your soulmates don't want you in their life, so you give them what they want and stay out of their way.
Genre: not really unrequited love (but they're all idiots), mutual pining, angst, denial of feelings, poly ot7
How do you think I'm going to get along
Without you when you're gone?
You took me for everything that I had
And kicked me out on my own.
Are you happy? Are you satisfied?
How long can you stand the heat?
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat.
mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1
I originally posted this on ao3 last April but I've just recently thought, "why not post this on tumblr now that i'm using it again after a few years?"
this fic is v self-serving, and was brought to you by my ✨maladaptive daydreams✨
first fic i posted here. idek what im doing but lezzgawwww
Title obviously came from AOBTD. Thank you, Sir John Deacon. You are heaven-sent for making this iconic and legendary bop.
This will be a part of a multi-fic series and i've already crafted 80/90-ish% of the next part im so sorry my mind isn't cooperating rn
✨️
God must be testing your patience.
I mean sure, you might not also be sure that there is indeed a god out there somewhere. However, you must have pissed off some deity or you had pissed on some old man of the mound. Either way, you don't care. You're pissed off now, too.
You see when they rejected you and asked (read: avoided you like the plague until Sejin spoke with you) not to speak or interact with them, you respected their wishes. It stung, but it's not really surprising.
It's not a secret that the seven of them are soulmates, polyamorous soulbonds not even a rarity in and out of the industry. However, it's also not a secret that they're very exclusive and don't let too many (if any) other people in their circle because of the things they had to endure as a group. It makes sense that they wouldn't want a new person intruding and messing with their dynamics, soulmate or not.
(deep down you want to say it doesn't make sense. you're their soulmate, why can't they accept you like that? but there's still nothing you can do, isn't there?)
And so, you delegated all your tasks related to their group to your most trusted employees completely and avoided them at all costs. And by 'at all costs', you mean everything. You even deleted all their songs on your playlists and blocked them on social media (even on Spotify). You can co-exist with them without interacting, although it makes your chest ache through the bond because of the soul rejection like a 24/7 acid relapse.
It's fine. You can ignore all that. You can handle rejection. You've been used to this since you were a kid; adult you can handle this.
Soul rejection side effects? Nothing meds and doctors can't fix. Technology has never been more advanced and all that jazz.
You're a mature person, and you pride yourself on that. You don't like confrontations that much and would rather step back as much as you can to disengage. If your soulmates don't want anything to do with you, then you'll back off.
But you sometimes wonder if they can feel it too, the soul strings fraying and slowly decaying. After shit went down, it's bouts of nausea and dizziness, and constant chest aches for you. That's not even half of it. It'll take a whole day for you to list all your symptoms.
If they do feel it, does it add to their list of reasons why they hate your existence? You mean, they had been borderline antagonistic since your first meeting, cold but civil at best.
It was a contrast to the way the tiny soul marks on each of your fingers glowed on your first meeting even until after Taehyung and Yoongi fled in what you can guess is disbelief and refusal, the others following suit. The warmth in your hands felt scorching, and you had never wanted to scrub them with water in your life then more than you ever did, your chest beating hard and painfully. You remember feeling like someone slashed your insides with a hot knife, and it has never stopped being in pain ever since.
What else were you supposed to think other than they hate you?
Not wanting to risk another embarrassing conversation with Sejin (bless his heart), you decided to book an appointment and signed up for the relatively new soul-scraping therapy. It's still in its human trial stages and is slowly being recognized as a way of severing soul ties, albeit not approved and sanctioned by the government. Anything to give and honor their wishes. They're your soulmates, and it's innate in you to give people what they want.
(or was it really just that?)
All of that and everything else, you can take. You live and abide by your life motto to stay out of drama, so you take all of it in stride and with dignity because it's all you have left at this point when it comes to them.
This is where you got pissed off, though. This day takes the cake, this sodding party.
Attending the party was certainly not your idea. You're tired from the long-ass meetings you had today—JYP's team asked for a meeting for your agreement with Day6 since Sungjin got discharged a few months ago with Younghyun following suit in a few days. A party is definitely not on your to-do list. If it's up to you, you'll be going home to your phone and fics.
(and if they're bangtan fics, nobody has to know. this, you can let yourself have—you were advised against going cold turkey from them by the doctors handling the soul-scraping therapy, after all. if you can't have them, maybe you can at least indulge in fictional them.)
You have been minding your own business since you arrived at the bar. It's laughable how socially inept you are despite handling your business and meeting the entertainment industry's biggest names and leaders regularly. When being put in parties and other gigs that force you to socialize just for the sake of socializing, you're back to being the fat loser kid that avoided making new friends because the ones you previously had in childhood (if you can really call them that) can't understand how your brain and mouth work. Frankly, you don't, too, so you just preferred to stay in one corner until it's socially acceptable to go home.
"Hey." Jackson squeezes your hand in his and smiles worriedly at you. "You doing okay?"
Jackson had been a long-time friend and is someone you trust your whole life with. Jackson had seen you through your bests and worsts, but had never once turned his back on you or betrayed you as many people did.
Yeah, you would trust him with your whole life. Your panties too, but don't tell him that.
(there's no need to because he knows; he did lots of times before, with his face between your thighs and your undies in his pocket.)
"I'm good." You don't even bother smiling, knowing it won't convince him too much. He knows your stand on parties; you're his polar opposite, after all. "I just really wanna go home."
"Can I come with?" he asks with a salacious smile.
You roll your eyes.
"Stop being horny for five minutes, please."
"You shouldn't have worn that dress, then." He rakes you with an assessing look. "On second thought, that's the best decision you did tonight so far. If you're not going home with anyone tonight, my room's open."
"You up to be my wingman?" you ask.
"Sure. I'll sit with you all night so we can look like a swinger couple scouting for a third we can take home." He waggles his eyebrows.
You snort at that with an amused chuckle, oblivious to the glare(s) directed your way by—who else?—your soulmates.
They (Taehyung) heard from Manager Sejin and Noona Ae-cha that you're not sure if you can come. They didn't know why the two were talking about you, but Taehyung tried to act immersed in his phone while eavesdropping.
Apparently, you had been stuck in the boardroom almost all day with the back-to-back meetings, and you even had to cancel your doctor's appointment. For what the appointment is for, he didn't know. It explains your absence that day, and he files the information away at the back of his head. He can't for the life of him understand why he can't stop trying to spot crumbs about you.
(he does know, but he's in denial about why—and he'll deny both.)
He then told his hyungs and Jungkook, which they just nodded at, seemingly uninterested. But if Namjoon's faraway serious look at times is anything to go by or the way Jimin picks at the skin on his lips as he's lost in thought, he's pretty sure they are also subtly trying to figure out if you're coming.
(but they'll all deny that if asked.)
They haven't seen you that much since they started actively avoiding you months ago and shut down whatever soul link you have with them, and you are damn good at trying to stay out of their way.
It surprised them, they're not gonna lie. They expected you to put up a fight, but all Manager Sejin told them was that you agreed. You never interacted with them ever since unless it was really needed, and you were always wearing your rings and not making unnecessary eye contact even once.
(and that somehow pisses them off and itches under their skin because how dare you not be interested?)
And now you've been here for the past hour or so, Jackson Wang in tow. Or rather, Jackson has his arms alternately snaked around yours or slung around your shoulders. It makes Jackson look like a frat douchebag.
(and it makes taehyung look jealous and interested in you which he is so not, no.)
Hoseok was the first one to spot you arriving, Another One Bites The Dust thumping through the dancefloor that was bathed in red lights. He nudges Namjoon from his seat in their secluded and swanky VIP room that was separated one floor above the bar proper.
"There she is", he says then, gesturing towards you as all seven pairs of eyes land on you as you enter with Jackson. "She's with Wang."
With varying levels of internal turmoil, they all watch as Jackson led you through the throngs of people, presumably to another room like theirs. They see you shake your head and point to the bar, and Jackson's face light up with a wide smile before redirecting your steps.
Yoongi asks himself why you have to wear that dress or why Jackson has to clutch at your hands like a little kid, the others having a similar train of thought. Does Jackson think he's going to be lost in this bar? Is he that plain stupid to be lost in this bar, really?
And why are you letting him?
Jimin tries not to let his eyes wander on your legs, tries not to let his mind wander back to the thought of being choked by your thick supple legs and ripping that off-shoulder dress off you and—
Oh. Woah, there.
Stop it! he thinks to himself and shakes his head.
(this is not the first time he's thought of this, darling. when he first saw those smooth and lovely-looking plump thighs, he knows he was fucked.)
Jin is no better, but he hides it better than the others. After all, it was not his idea to shut you out like that. He was opposed to it and tried to talk some sense into the others, but they didn't listen. He thought back then that Namjoon would at least be reasonable and give you a shot but nooo, the kid was stupid enough to listen to others.
Let them have what they want, then.
(he can feel the pit and longing in his chest some nights and thinks that maybe he can let the others do what they want but still do what he wants too. but he takes a look at the six men who had been there for him through thick and thin, and he can't lose them. he sends you an apology mentally, hoping you can at least feel it through the bond.)
"Calm down," Jin tells them levelly, trying to pry the glass off Namjoon's hand, lest he crushes it and injures himself. "You're crushing the poor thing, Joonie. Don't wanna end up in the ER, do you?"
Jackson's the one to end up in the ER if he doesn't unwrap his arms from your shoulders, that's who, Namjoon thinks to himself bitterly before he can stop himself.
Jin leans back on his seat and watches as you laugh with Jackson, arms slung around your shoulders as the latter listens to you talk. They all wouldn't have to seethe in barely contained anger if they just listened to him though, so who's at fault here?
Aish, these brats.
"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook suddenly says, disentangling himself from Taehyung fluidly.
"You can just ask them," Namjoon says, pointing towards the glass doors where their security detail is posed out of the room. "There's no need to go out."
"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook repeats firmly, ignoring him. Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Come help me, Jin-hyung?"
Ah, this conniving brat. Jin wants to kiss his pouty lips for this.
"Sure," Jin says easily, much to Namjoon's annoyance. He pats Namjoon's cheeks gently. "No breaking the glass, Joon-ah. We have a photoshoot tomorrow."
He pulls Jungkook out of the room before any of them can disagree further. He loops his arm around Jungkook's petite waist, nodding once to the man stationed at the door.
"You're not just getting drinks at you, aren't you?" Jin asks as they descend the steps.
"I don't know what you're talking about, hyung." Jungkook's smile is sharp. "I just don't wanna get roofied and end up on the tabloids tomorrow, is all."
"You don't have to lie to me," Jin says, kissing his hair. "I wanna see her, too."
Jungkook's smile turns sad at that.
"I just don't understand. [Name]-noona seems like a nice person. They're all being stupid."
Jin has to agree. "But you know why we have to, right? I don't like it, too, but we have no choice."
"But we do!" Jungkook insists. "We can be friends, even."
"Friends don't fuck friends." Jungkook snorts at that. "There's nothing 'friends' about wanting her with us, Jungkook."
"Friends don't fuck friends, my ass," Jungkook mumble mockingly. "That didn't stop Jackson-hyung at all."
Jin stops momentarily, pulling Jungkook to a stop. "Excuse me?"
"They were having sex last week, hyung. When Jackson-hyung came over last Wednesday."
"Was that why...?"
"Yeah." Jungkook takes his hand as they walk again. "I felt it through the strings, too."
Jungkook is suspiciously not meeting his eyes.
"Jungkook-ah."
"What?" he asks innocently. Jin's lips pull into a smirk.
"You naughty cat!"
"I—what? No!" but Jungkook is still not meeting his eyes. "I didn't watch them."
Jin gasps delightedly.
"This is so much better. I didn't even say anything yet!"
Ah, fuck.
In Jungkook's defense, he hadn't meant to listen in. But he had been on his way back to the practice room from relieving his screaming bladder when he heard it. The warmth and arousal that was definitely not his he had been ignoring since that lunchtime was not helping his curiosity.
"Ah!" And oh shit, it's someone moaning and it's you.
That explains the arousal he's been feeling. Oh, and the jealousy now (his), too.
"Yeah?" A deeper voice asked breathlessly. Another punched-out moan from you, and the arousal flares in his chest.
Yup. It's definitely his this time.
"Jackson, please," your equally breathless voice pleaded, and the sound shot to his cock. Jungkook had to stop his hand from going south inside his pants and boxers.
A delighted shriek and breathless laugh, followed by a staccato of 'ah ah ah's and hips slapping against each other punctuated the otherwise silent afternoon he was having.
And what would a self-respecting man do?
Stay and listen to you get railed six ways to Sunday, was what he did.
(jungkook didn't say he's a self-respecting man.)
Jungkook slipped his hand inside his pants and boxers and wrapped his hand around his aching cock. He almost moaned at how your moans quickly reached a whole other level of desperation. He wondered and tried to imagine how you would feel around him if he fucked you harder and deeper than Jackson possibly can.
He knows he can.
"Hands, Jackson." There was a chuckle, then your whine was heard. "Baobei, please."
Jungkook heard Jackson's sharp intake of breath, and he had to internally agree. Even speaking Mandarin, you sound so hot.
He heard you mewl with a choked giggle as the sounds of hips to hips got faster.
"You really like my hands, huh?" Jackson asked.
"Mhm. Want them wrapped around my—ah!—neck all the time."
Fuck.
Jungkook had to bite onto his hands as he came, so as not to give his position away, cock spurting on his hands,. Seconds later and he heard you cry out and Jackson grunt to completion.
So, no. He definitely didn't watch.
"You nasty, nasty boy!" Jin cackles at him and he wants to pout. "You listened in to them having sex?!"
"Hyung!" Jungkook hisses. "Not too loud."
Jin snickers at him, mouth pulled in a tempting smirk he wants to kiss. "Was it good?"
"Hyung," he whines. At Jin's unfaltering smirk, he sighs. "It was. She sounds so good, hyung. I can't take it off my mind."
"Maybe later, we can do something about that." Jin says with a low hum.
He peers at Jin's eyes and almost shudders at the dark and hungry look in them. Jin squeezes his waist, and it takes Jungkook's breath away.
In his silence, Jin nods with a hum.
"Hm, definitely later."
He won't say no to that. If they can't have you, Jungkook's gonna take what he can get, even if it means settling on replaying your moans in his head.
When they reach the bar, you are still sitting at the other end with Jackson. They are careful not to be seen by you or you'll probably leave like you always do when they get within your 10-foot vicinity.
Then Jackson puts his hand on your slightly exposed leg. He feels the others' jealousy through the bond first before he feels his own, and he sees you stiffen in your seat.
Hyungs!
Jungkook quickly looks away, but not before Jackson catches his gaze. He completely misses the way Jackson's mouth pulls into a quick smirk as their drinks are thankfully served at that exact moment.
"Wanna head back to your place?"
You're unexpectedly suddenly close, and it's like Jackson wants him and Jin to hear to rile them up. It works, and he can barely tamp down the urge to pour the drinks over Jackson's big head, being older be damned.
"Sure. I'll just swing by the restroom." You say as you walk away. Jin and Jungkook take that as their cue to go back to their ritzy room.
"That was short," Jin says tightly as they go back. "Was it you?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
Jin's lips quirk into an amused smile.
"Ah, jealous bastards."
"Weren't you too, though?" Jungkook asks with a slightly amused smile of his own. "That was... that was intense."
"That serves them," Jin says as they near the room. "If they weren't just pigheaded, it's my shoulders her legs are gonna be hanging from later."
"Jin-hyung!" Jungkoo huffs, but then deflates. "Yeah."
"Don't worry, we still have later," Jin says with a lascivious smirk.
And he can't complain about that, can he?
"Where's Tae-hyung?" he asks when they enter the room, Taehyung nowhere in sight.
"Went out. Didn't say where." Hoseok says as he accepts their drinks and puts the tray on the table. It takes a few seconds for him to piece it all together, and he mentally facepalms.
"Whatever happened to 'not giving a fuck' about [Name]?" he mumbles.
"Jungkook," Namjoon warns.
It sets him off.
"What? Are you all really going to keep on pretending? You do realize I felt that back there too, right?" he shoots back.
"So the drinks were just a ruse?" Namjoon's face is stormy.
Jungkook holds his gaze steady. "And what if it was? You all know what I felt about this since day one."
"Kook-ah." It's Jimin this time. "Not now, please."
"And when, hyung? When we go back to just pretending an eighth of our soul doesn't exist out there?"
"Jungkook."
He glares at Yoongi. "No, hyung. If you all want to be stupid, I don't! [Name]-noona is going through therapy because of this, don't you know?"
Yoongi scoffs. "She's a big girl, she can handle herself."
"Not soul-scraping therapy, she won't."
They all stop at that. Even Jungkook stops and internally curses.
Fuck, he wasn't supposed to say that.
"What did you say?" Namjoon's voice takes on a dangerous tone.
He huffs but stays silent, not really wanting to dig a deeper hole for himself.
"Jungkook."
"I talked to Jiho-hyung, okay? I bumped into him five months ago when he visited her."
Silence.
"Im Jiho?" At Jungkook's nod, Namjoon's frown deepened. "I didn't know he practices soul-scraping."
"He's co-authoring the soul-scraping study with Doctor Seong."
At the mention of one of their previous soul health doctors, Yoongi raises his eyebrows.
"Our Doctor Seong?"
Jungkook nods with a sigh, plopping down beside Hoseok. "Apparently, it's why he stopped private practice—to focus on the studies. They're also lobbying for fully legalizing soul-scraping in the Assembly. I ran into him, and he mentioned that he was there for noona's side effects from the therapy."
Side effects?
Shit.
"W-wait. Five months, you said?" Jin says with a tremble in his voice. "Is that why I can barely feel her anymore?"
Jungkook's sigh is pained, forlorn. "Apparently, yeah."
They all lapse in complete silence after that, the thumping of the beat on the dancefloor faint through the walls.
"Fuck."
Indeed.
It is then that Taehyung comes back. He takes one look at their varying degrees of solemn and stunned expressions and tilts his head.
"What? What happened?" he asks.
"[Name]..."
Taehyung's eyes widen before his expression smooths into indifference.
"I told you, I'm no—"
"That's not it," Jimin says softly. "She's in soul-scraping therapy, Taehyung-ah."
...
"What?"
(oh, lord. you don't know the turmoil you caused all these pining idiots, darling.)
---
And what about you?
As we said in the beginning, god must be testing your patience.
"Hey," Jackson says softly. He lifts your chin with a gentle smile long after Taehyung fucked off to god knows where. "You good, baobei?"
You didn't even know they were here. You were vaguely aware that yeah, they might be, but it totally slipped your mind. Meetings really did drain your brain.
When you stood up and went to the restroom while Jackson called for the driver, you didn't know that Taehyung was watching you from their room and completely high-tailed it from there just to intercept you when he saw you stand up from the corner of the bar. You didn't know why, but his stupid drunken ass just decided it wanted and it was a good idea to rile you up.
To piss you off is why, you think.
When you exited the ladies' room, Taehyung was standing there by the wall looking lethal. The ache in your chest flared up for two different reasons, but you ignored it. You ignored him and started walking away, pretending you didn't see him.
"So you're really here."
Seriously?
You continued ignoring him and walked on, but he didn't let you get far.
He grabs your wrist. "I said, you're really here."
The spot where he held you burned and you hissed, cursing the therapy's side effects. You were warned that coming in contact skin-to-skin with your soulmates while undergoing the therapy would feel painful (literally), but you didn't heed it then. You had no reason to touch them after all when they didn't even want to see you.
But it is painful, and it burns.
You yanked your wrist away, hiding your wrist behind your back. There's no need for that, though. Taehyung was looking at your face intently.
"Yes, and I was just leaving. See you around, T—"
"With Jackson?"
What's it with this guy?
You looked back at him and squared your shoulders up. "That's really none of your business, Taehyung."
He laughed with a sneer, shaking his head.
"What would people say if they knew you're off gallivanting with men who aren't your soulmate?"
Wow.
The nerve of this asshole.
You can't let him see it affect you though, so you tilt your head with an innocent smile.
"I'm just a nobody. Why would they talk about me? " You smirked in amusement. "I don't think it'll be me they will talk about since I wasn't the one who rejected my soulmate, was I?"
And oh, shit. Where did that come from, [Name]? Feisty.
"And I'm not doing anything illegal. Why should I be scared?" You slightly lean back and tilt your chin up. "I'm not the one between us with a reputation to uphold, a name I should protect."
You paused, a serene smile on your face.
"I'm not a coward. I'm not you, Taehyung"
The smirk on his lips was replaced with a sharp look of disdain, almost like he wants to slap the smile off your face.
(he wants to, darling. trust me. just not in the way you think.)
You knew you hit a nerve and it feels petty and mean, but it's nothing compared to the loneliness and pain they gave you these past few months. It felt satisfying, even if for just a bit.
"You really think you're all that, don't you?" He smiled almost mockingly. "Tell me, how does it feel to be rejected?"
That really stung and angered you, but you've spent all your life hiding your emotions when needed to. Your expression didn't falter.
"It feels good—"
"—because she dodged a bullet."
You internally sighed in relief as Jackson's voice float behind you. You'll forever be thankful for this man's existence, gods or not.
You melt in his arms when he wrapped them around your waist. You chanced a look at Jackson, not seeing the twitch on Taehyung's brows at your body language.
"You really think you're all that, don't you?" Jackson mocked back at him. "Imagine thinking it's the end of the world for your soulmate just because you shut down their bond." Jackson chuckled ruthlessly.
"You're pathetic, Taehyung-ssi."
The two were locked in a glowering match before Taehyung straightened up and spun on his heel without a word.
Jackson let you get your bearings by the wall of the hallway to the ladies' room in silence. But he didn't let you stew in your thoughts for long.
So now here you are, looking at his gentle eyes.
"You good, baobei?"
You don't know how to answer that really, so you pull him by the collar into a searing kiss.
He puts his hand on your waist, the other on the wall by your face, and you tighten your hold on his collar.
You pull away to gasp for air.
"Take me home," you exhale heavily as you lean your head on his shoulder. "Take me home and fuck me 'til I forget, or I might do something stupid."
Jackson's sharp intake of air is your answer before he pulls you away to your awaiting car outside the club.
---
feedback (constructive, please don't be too rude bc i'll cry) and kudos very much appreciated!
#bts soulmate au#polyamorous bts#soul bonds#kim taehyung u lil shit#soulmate rejection#idek what i'm doing okay i'm so sorry#they're idiots your honor#bts x reader#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I would like to join the bandwaggon and make a post about those gmmtv 2025 bl trailers we got today. I was at work so I haven't seen anything except the OFDO trailer because I had to. Now I would also like to add that I'm still fairly new to this whole Thai BL rabbit hole and that I still need to get to know all the ships but for the most part I'm proud to say that I know quite a few by now. I'm also here for dark stuff. The darker the better so I hope one or two of those shows will be darker/more supernatural/more thriller based. Ticket To Heaven: Now hear me out, I don't usually go for the religious/church related stuff so I'm not really sure if I will like the vibe of this one. However, I love GeminiFourth and they're fantastic actors so I might end up giving this a try anyway. Having watched this trailer now I can see how dramatic this is gonna be and I can already tell just based from this that Fourth will deliver 100% so I am here for it. Most definitely gonna give this a try. Memoir of Rati: Just based on the title it feel like this is something more historical which also isn't my cup of tea. Okay, forget what I just said, they're blessing me with more GreatInn and I don't care what this is about, I'm in. After Wandee Goodday being in my top favourite shows of 2024 I am so thrilled to get GreatInn in another drama again so soon. I have not even watched the trailer yet but I'm 100% down for this. Wow, they look dashing. No surprise there but yes. "From a romantic novel". That alone should be a no for me already but again, I see GreatInn, I watch. All the French...I even understand that lmao. Gonna admit I don't know the second couple in this series. Another one I will learn about very soon I guess.
Wu: Already like the vibe of this. I don't know this couple but all the tarot cards have my attention. Hmm finally some action! Okay the fantasy elements and the darker background music have my attention 100% and I will definitely give this a try. Me and Thee: Do I know this couple? They don't ring a bell. I don't think I've seen them anywhere. Yet. I see that they play in some of the dramas that are on my to watch list so I will see them pretty soon I guess. Anyway, back to the trailer. "A soap opera loving mafia" okay those are words I never thought i'd hear in a sentence but here we are. Mafia boss dude is pretty. I probably will give this a try too. Watch me add all those shows to my watchlist and then get overwhelmed again when I have to watch 15 series at once. A Dog and A Plane: MY BOY!! Okay this is definitely going on my watchlist. I don't even have to watch this trailer to know that. It's my home boy and my ghost hunting duo and yes and thank you very much I am so excited!!! Oh Marc's in here too! I didn't actually know him but now that I watch Perfect 10 Liners I get to meet so many new faces. Ah I love the Peaceful Property vibes between TayNew. This is gonna be so much fun. Oh he's got Tattoos. Me gusta mucho. This looks hilarious. I love the vibe. OOOH Poon's in here too!! Do we get another MarcPoon? I effing LOVE PondSand in P10L and I would absolutely LOVE to have them back for another series. Okay but me getting both TayNew AND MarcPoon in the same series? Sign me tf up. Thank you very much.
My Magic Prophecy: Title already got me intrigued. Oh is that JimmySea? I don't actually know Jimmy yet to be completely honest but I loved Sea in The Trainee so that's exciting. A Doctor and a Fortune Teller. Okay, that sounds interesting. I'm on board. GMMTV wouldn't be anything if they didn't bring at least one doctor show. Is this the Tarot season? Already the second show with Tarot cards lmao. Not that I mind. It's just interesting. Boys in Love: Well, every show on this list could have this title lmao. Oh it's another school drama. AY PAPI! My man is back! Love that for me. Given this is a school series this must be the new generation of actors so I won't know anyone. Except Papang of course. Oooh it's Chokun! I DO know someone from the younger generation. My boy Half is back. I missed him. He's adorable. Gods they all look like babies. It looks like I'm about to adopt more children. THE DIMPLES!! Oooh it's Papi and Dr. Ter. Papang with the glasses is a whole different mood. I didn't come here for romantic comedies why am I watching so many romantic things. I hate this rabbit hole. Cat for Cash: Another FirstKhao show? FirstKhao AND cats? Yes, you got me at cats. Is this the FirstKhao rom-com people have been waiting for? Lmao, what in the Dr. Dolittle is happening xD FirstKhao running a cat café. When did we get here. The most random concept and I'm here for it. Oh, here comes the drama. Oh great, we already getting the Khao breakdown in the trailer. I can not believe I'm down for that FirstKhao rom-com. Me who always wants the dark stuff but I'm excited to see them in a lighter series. Seems like I get First doing more comedy so I'm looking forward to this.
Mu-Te-Luv: I don't know what this title means but let's see. And more Tarot cards. I do like the sound of magic. Don't know main guy. Oh, he's the same dude as in "Wu". Ooooh, my ghost hunting badass queen is also in this? And she gets to scream once again xD Luke, my man!! So many people who don't ring a bell ^^' This cast is huge. OH MY GODS!! I so have to watch this just for Neo dressed like this. And YASS! I get my boy back too!! Also being so badass. Look at them! I can't. This is hilarious. 100% here for the Queen of Queens xD Lmao I would watch a comedy show just with those four. My gods, they are hilarious. Oooh, OhmLeng? Yes and thank you! Okay definitely gonna watch this. This is gonna be a blast. This will be my feel good show. Love You Teacher: Oooh it's the cuties from Perfect 10 Liners. I see the pros of watching this show now. "From the producer of 'Peaceful Property'" SIGN ME UP! Oh, amnesia trope. Solar is so cute. So he switches between being a kid and being an adult? Such a fun plot. I'm looking forward to this. Melody of Secrets: Oooh, another ForceBook show? The colouring is very interesting. Kinda dark and mysterious. Oh it is dark. I'm finally getting my dark ForceBook show? This is so exciting!! Oh, ghost hunting girl boss is also in this one? I love all my Peaceful Property related things. Will never say bye to my favourite show of 2024. This seems dark, mysterious and interesting. I'm definitely here for this kinda vibe. My Romance Scammer: Having romance in the title is not making it easy to get me lol. Oh, it's JuniorMark. This looks cheesy and lovey-dovey but for some reason it also looks interesting. Will keep this one in mind to give it a try. That Summer: Another main couple I don't know. Oh it's Mond and Neo here too. Is Neo in all the dramas? Love that. Who's that doctor with Mond? He's pretty. Guess I'm already here for this side ship.
Only Friends: Dream On: Okay here we go again. I'll rewatch this one. You know what's funny? Only Friends was my first drama and I didn't know a single soul. My friend was screaming at the end of the show when Mix appeared and I had no clue who he was. Fast forward to now and I know every single person in this season 2 and I'm so proud of myself haha. Granted I don't know Joss yet but I'm already excited for My Golden Blood so it feels like I already know him. EarthMix and OhmLeng, it's gonna be so spicy!! This is so messy. Even more than OF was and i can't wait for the even bigger mess when the show actually starts. Boston being back for this is the icing of the cake. He's gonna make this extra spicy and interesting. I can't wait. Ah, all the jealousy. We love her. MixLeng bitch fight I will look forward to this. I LOVE that the soundtrack is back. This makes this even more exciting! So is Gawin the Sand of this show because from the trailer it looks like he's the most sane one lmao. Only time will tell. Wonder how much trouble Boston is gonna cause this time. They already in trouble without him so we'll see.
Burnout Syndrome: Ooh is this gonna be OffGun. THOR MY MAN!! The black lipstick okay! That whole outfit is a vibe. Oh, it's the people from "Not Me" working on this. Obviously they would get OffGun but that also means it's gonna be good. And of course drawing is involved again. And by drawing I mean drawing people naked. Not gonna lie, I hate love triangles. They're my biggest enemy but I still think I'll give this a go 100%.
Head 2 Head: Once again don't know the characters but there's always room to learn more. I was like "oh nice car racing! but it went dark real quick." That vision thing is interesting. I'm intrigued.
Dare You to Death: Now this is a title I can go with. Oh it's Drake. Oh is this other guy the guy from Kidnap? The brother? I hate Truth or Dare. I never liked that game. Ooooh, JoongDunk police force? Now I like the sound of that. I like a good murder mystery. Also Joong is so ajdlskfjadsökghajdsöklfjasgf !!! Also that red shirt looks hella good on Dunk. Damn that is some dark ass shit I'm loving it. Finally something that is right up my ally.
#dani talks#gmmtv 2025#ticke tto heaven#memoir of rati#wu the series#me and thee#a dog and a plane#my magic prophecy#boys in love#cat for cash#mu te luv#love you teacher#melody of secrets#my romance scammer#that summer#only friends dream on#burnout syndrome#head 2 head#dare you to death#firstkhao#joongdunk#offgun#earthmix#ohmleng#taynew#greatinn#geminifourth#thai drama#long post for ts
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Late but 5 and 19 for Shana?
(ask game)
5. How did you choose their name and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind the name? Are the reasons behind their name different in- and out of universe?
i honestly don’t fully remember lol. i just know that it was the first name i had in mind for him and it just stuck. i can’t remember if i’ve read it somewhere before but that’s the story. i am honestly so shit at naming things. characters, towns, countries, you name it i can’t name it. lmao. and honestly playing around with meanings is only fun if whoever is naming the character has like. intent with it. (like i described earlier with zeke/ezekiel or oleander naming himself that because it was the first thing that he managed to grow. or the judge’s whole shit. the judge is a title that doesn’t get used in universe all that much but all its various names are chosen with purpose.) because i honestly find it a bit strange if characters all have names related to traits mostly developed later in life like. where you can tell it was a choice by the author and not the character doing the naming. it doesn’t happen that way usually. like do not get me wrong i don’t have a problem with people who like playing around with that but personally it takes me right out of my suspension of disbelief a little so i just can’t personally write like that haha.
anyways i don’t know the meaning behind shana actually let me look it up right now. hm interesting! either from the hebrew shayna meaning beautiful/magnificent or the irish shannon river the word shanna meaning old/wise. good to know! in-universe his parents just thought the name sounded nice i think lol. maybe they were inspired by that river because he and his family are from that area but eh i doubt it lol.
19. What is your general favourite thing about the character? What is your least favourite?
on a writing level i’d definitely say his whole premise/the reason i made the character in the first place. being a self-aware monster and happy and content with it. going through life completely guilt and regret free purely for the joy of being alive and being himself even when that is something horrible because he’ll only have that opportunity to live once and even if he had the ability to change this he still would choose to be himself/as he is right now every time. i went into detail on this a bit here but i also like how he sees and interacts with people especially. so much so that i find it hard to describe it or find the right words for it haha. tbh in his past story version it was never some big grand thing like most of my other stuff either and always leaning towards slice of life but just about a horrible fucking person haha. i just find it incredibly interesting to think about all the small or big details of how he goes through life and how he views things as what he is.
least favourite is him being smart and charming because i am not any of that so it can be hard to write a character who has those traits haha. otherwise i don’t really choose traits for my characters that i don’t like to write about.
on a personal level my least favourite thing is just uh. the first answer again: his truly endless capacity for monstrous cruelty and the endless joy and pleasure he gets from not just the acts themselves but especially the raw hatred and disgust they elicit. reaffirmation of his self. he has no limits based on a moral code because he simply has no such thing and he knows it and he wouldn’t change a thing. how when someone begs not to hurt them in terror it only becomes genuinely hard for him to resist hurting them (usually even more than planned) as if someone had placed a piece of your favourite cake in front of you. don’t fully know why but god does that especially gross me out lol. as someone with a lot of medical fears maybe especially heinous to me how he abuses his position as a doctor like that. also when he gets excited (most often when being a monster of course) he does these very arrhythmic twitchy hand and legs/feet jitters and other habits like tongue clicking. but occasionally when he gets really excited he even starts sweating and drooling through the creepiest grin in the whole world. huffing and puffing and shit. personally i just find that really uh. ew man.
then my favourite uh. probably his sense of humour. his ability to not take himself too seriously. i’m jealous of much joy he finds and makes for himself every day disregarding his methods right now. and how he’s literally incapable of genuinely feeling fear or sadness (he does get irritated to varying degrees or furious in very few bad cases though) . that’s the thing i’m most jealous of actually haha. not much else i can think of.
honestly don’t think i would like him very much even if i didn’t know about All That. or at least i would find it hard to be around him. i struggle with extremely chatty and extroverted people immensely especially when they would completely disregard my disability like he would lol. be it for a lack of understanding/ignorance or active malice. for shana it’d be like 80% the latter and 20% the former. but i wouldn’t know that so i’d just think he’s being ignorant as a seemingly allistic (he is fully allistic but again i wouldn’t know that i’d just assume lol) middle aged man but attempting friendly conversation so i’d just avoid him to not have to explain anything and hopefully never talk to him ever again lol.
#ok it’s. almost 3am here if i get any more i will do them tomorrow. or uh later today lol.#oc: shana
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the WIP game- Follow You to Infinity?
(I’ll admit that How to Kill Your Dragon is the one that I’m most curious about/interested in, but it seems like you’ve already gotten a bunch of asks about that one)
(WIP game)
This is actually a (sort of?) space adventure fic, with a heavy serving of angst!
Let's go back to the beginning. So, Stephen and Tony are happily in a relationship pre-Avengers 1, but then Loki attacks New York and then Tony flies a nuke through a wormhole.
And Tony never returns back to Earth.
Stephen grieves him and has his accident like, only few days later, and goes through his journey.. you get the idea.
Sometime later, when he's become a sorcerer, he decides that he's gonna go out there into space in search of Tony, because he had never stopped believing that Tony is still out there somewhere, alive. And now he has the means to go into space and look for Tony himself, so he sure as hell is gonna use those means.
A large part of the fic is just Stephen traveling through the galaxy chasing after this mysterious entity who has become a hero throughout the galaxy, who is possibly Stephen's only lead to reaching Tony, because apparently the entire galaxy believes that Tony died while killing the Chitauri. Stephen isn't buying that, and he's gonna pin down this new hero to interrogate the truth out of them himself. But they are just too damn good at getting away.
In the journey Stephen meets quite a few people, namely Nebula, GOTG, Loki, Carol, and a few more GOTG characters. Oh, and he also accidentally gains the title of 'Doctor Plague' the evil being who goes around planets spreading pandemics lmao (that is NOT true, some people just decided to spread rumors).
Have a snippet of Stephen meeting Nebula for the first time.
-
The hair on his back stood up as he felt a presence creep closer to him, very deliberately sitting down next to him.
“You’re searching for the Chitauri Destroyer as well?” A deep, feminine, distinctly robotic voice asked him. Stephen turned his head to find a blue cyborg lady sitting next to him. She looked to be fully cybernetic; at least Stephen couldn’t see if there were any biological parts to her. Her eyes were as black as the void, expression so stern that she would probably scare away most people just by looking at their general direction. There was a fierce aura around her.
This woman.. she was dangerous.
“..Yes,” Stephen replied tentatively. “You are, too?”
She tilted her head in affirmation. “I’ve been after him for two years. He’s quite slippery.”
“That long?” Huh. Stephen’s chances of finding this mysterious person were falling a little with each passing day.
He would not give up, though. Never.
For Tony.
“What have you been searching him for?” He couldn’t help but ask the woman.
“To kill him,” she said blatantly. “You?”
Stephen stared in silence for a moment.
What was it with galactic people always seeming to favor violence so much?
“Just.. just for a talk,” he told the woman. “Information gain.”
She scrutinized him for a long moment, and Stephen wondered if she was perhaps plotting his murder right then and there and if he would need to show himself out before things got out of hand.
“You’re decent at tracking,” she said after the long awkward pause, and it almost sounded like a compliment. She then dug a hand into her pocket, picked something out, and extended the thing towards Stephen; it was a small holocard containing what Stephen presumed to be a link to her communicator. “If you ever manage to find him in time, call me to the location and I will owe you a favor, anything you want. I will even help you get your information out of him.”
Stephen was taken aback. She was suggesting she would coerce him for Stephen. That..
Stephen did not appreciate that at all.
But he didn’t want to cause a scene here, right now.. He already had bountys on his head as it was. It would not do to get on the bad book of a seemingly dangerous, possibly sadistic cyborg.
“Understood..” Stephen simply said, and took the holocard from her.
The woman gave a curt nod, stood up, and left. Stephen watched her disappear through the exit of the bar.
He looked down at the holocard on his hand with distaste. Well, he would most likely never run into that peculiar woman ever again. And he knew for a fact that he would never, ever have a need to contact her.
With a single thought, he incinerated the holocard into orange sparks and dust.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stream of 4 minutes consciousness…
*sighs deeply like an old man weathered by life*
I’ve been through three different VPNs and three different countries on VIU to try and watch the uncut version of 4Minutes ep 2 and jfc I have finally succeeded
the effort I have gone to just so I can legally watch the series is honestly embarrassing (and I am fully unashamed about it lmao)
spoilers below for another post of my stupid thoughts while watching ep2…
?????? Who is this hooded figure??????? Who is BEATING someone to DEATH may I ask?????????
I rly wonder who this woman is???? And who her dead son is?????? Does it have something to do with Tonkla????? WHO KNOWS NOT ME
Tyme is so straight faced and serious in doctor mode
Ah GREAT MY BABY I will defend him with my life I’ve decided that rn
lol at the nurses gossiping abt tymes love life
Is that Greats friend arguing with his girlfriend??????
Great sitting in class all cute and distressed about his little seeing into the future problem
Ohh Dome…I fear you witnessed something you shouldn’t have
Title what the fuck have you done with your girlfriend?????? God he’s such a creepy dude
Omfg Great WHY ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH SUCH A FREAK
I love that all Great cares about is that someone might file a missing persons report about titles girlfriend even though his friend is a LITERAL KIDNAPPER
omfg Dome in the BOOT?????
GOOD BOY GREAT DON’T HELP UR FRIEND MURDER DOME
OMFG?????????????????????????
Oh the 4 mins thing is happening
NO DONT HURT GREAT MY BABY
Oohhhhh Tyme does boxing
Okay domes in the hospital and great has somehow hurt his head
PAHAHAHAH Tyme checking himself out in the mirror so he can go and treat the patient he has a crush on
omfg this interaction is so awkwardly tension filled AND I OOP
TYME STEPPING INTO GREATS LEGS LIKE THAT AND MAKING HIM PANIC THIS IS ROMANTIC COMEDY GOLD
Greats like: FUCK this is the beautiful man I’ve been having SEX VISIONS ABOUT
omg Tyme subtly flirting with Great as he treats his wound is killing me
PAHAHAHAH YEAH GREAT YOU STARE AT THAT WAIST … Tyme is a v sexy doctor I have to say
🥹…the way he held greats chin
you have good memory YEAH THATS BC HE FANCIES YOU GREAT jfc Tyme is so flirty I would fold so easily if he were my doctor
Idk if you should be asking people that Great it makes you sound crazy bby
Okay whose body have the police found?????TONKLAS BROTHER??????? poor bby😭😭😭😭 but WHO is Tonklas brother??
Again Greats outfit choices are impeccable
OMFG TITLE YOU ARE A PSYCHO why are you literally fighting Great?!?? Omfg don’t kill him Title
WHERE DID TYME COME FROM??????????? okay there must be two different timelines playing I don’t know how else that would happen
AWWWW TYME YOU WERE WORRIED
YEAH GREAT YOU TAKE THE SEXY MANS NUMBER
oh and we’re back at that weird gambling den that Korn has been so graciously given
Oh poor Tonkla😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Korn you have no idea you just hung up on your grieving lover😭 ugh this is messy😭
I feel like having a violin player in that tiny office is so unnecessary lmao
Ooohhhhhh Korn you really are in some deep shit aren’t you
Why is Korn in Fahs BEDROOM?? what is going on here? WHY ARE YOU NAKED????? Are you lovers?? Is this an agreement?????? Friends with benefits???? ….the slurp
Tonkla the nice policeman is checking on you bc he thinks you’re pretty!!!!!
OMG TYME????? YOURE THE ONE WHO PUT A MOLE IN KORNS GAMBLING DEN????????
but FOR WHY?????????????
Jesus that was another amazing episode
#I’m so normal about this#can you tell#4 minutes#4minutes#4 minutes the series#peachy’s series reaction
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Folder Game
RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Thanks for the tag, @nonsensicalsoliloquy!
So I distinguish between “active” WIPs and “probably abandoned” WIPs, where the first are ones that I may not be working on right now, but I still think there’s a good chance I’ll get around to them eventually. The second are really exactly what they sound like - maybe I’ll pick them up again at some point, but for the moment I’ve kinda accepted they probably won’t get done
So for the sake of this list, I’m using only the names of the “active” ones. If anyone is curious about the “probably abandoned” list, let me know and I’ll post those too, there’s just a lot more in there lmao as my active list is pretty short right now and I have stuff that dates back to 2016 in the other list lmao. There are some banger ideas there, though, if I do say so myself, so let me know if y’all want to see them
Star wars:
Bad Things
Braids
Renben 7
~*~*~
Plague doctor:
Lera + Serovolk
Lera meets the Rag
Soft Bottom Oleg
Not sure who to tag, so just gonna pick some people I know who write and I think like these, but no pressure to do this if you don’t want to! @kylosbreedingkink @aptenodykes @eldritchmochi @iwishtocountthestars @bunny--manders @bostarsky
#always love talking fic stuff#even if my posting schedule is just all over the place lmao#text#misc#tag games
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
some things never change
908 words chuck taylor/trent baretta (implied, can be read as gen)
death before dishonor changed me on some level. my first time with these boys like this so like. be kind to me. takes place post their title match (i also know oc was there but shh lemme have this)
its proofread and edited now, i dont think its terrible but be mindful that i wrote this in an hour of frenzy at 6am originally lmao
hurt/comfort. mild warnings for trent having stitches, theres mention of blood, chuck has issues liking himself and trent says shit once
@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate
on ao3
----------------------
Chuck had remained silent the entire time they had been sitting in the trainers room after the match. There had been too heated of a moment at ringside when the match ended for them to notice it, but when they got backstage someone had kindly pointed out that Trent had gotten cut at the brow at some point, so they were escorted to see the doctors, whether they wanted it or not. Chuck insisted that he was okay, apart from some mental wounds from yet another loss, only being worried about Trent right there and then.
As was tradition it seemed, Trent insisted on being okay, but complained the entire time he was being taken care of. Being walked to the medical, having to sit there, while they were cleaning up his wound and washing his face off of the excess blood, while he was being stitched up. Chuck watched all of this happen, not intervening, letting Trent get it out of his system.
When they were finally free to leave to get back to the locker room, Chuck just quietly accepted the ice packs from the trainers that Trent had left behind, knowing that he would bitch about leaving them behind later. Trent was clearly in a hurry to get out of there, being frustrated with the whole situation, which Chuck didn’t blame him at all about.
To be honest, Chuck only blamed himself for all of this. Even if it was indirect, he was the one that brought the team down by not being there to help Trent by breaking the pin, effectively causing them to lose the match. Not to mention since he wasn’t able to properly protect his partner, he had been bleeding by the end of it all.
Trent kicked the locker room door open, Chuck being kind of irked over the fact that it was only the two of them in the Best Friends locker room that night. He honestly would have felt very much the same if they had gotten those titles in their possession and had their friends there to celebrate with them, just with the opposite situation.
But now Chuck had to deal with all of this by himself, when he wished someone more capable was around to handle the moment he didn’t feel like he was able to hold together for much longer.
Maybe the sigh he let out was a little bit louder than he intended, Chuck instinctively wincing as he saw the concern on Trent’s face following the sound as the other man turned to look towards him, stopping in the middle of his annoyed rant that Chuck hadn’t been listening to at all.
“What’s wrong?”
Chuck just shrugged, weighting the ice pack in his hands that he suddenly found more interesting than anything else in the room. “Just… Bummed about this. Losing, once again.”
Trent’s eyes narrowed slightly, knowing very well when his longtime tag partner was lying to him. Without saying anything he grabbed Chuck by the wrist, walking him to the couch and sitting him down, taking a seat next to him. Chuck didn’t resist, knowing full well that doing so was going to make him explain himself even further. At least this way he was able to try to mask the disappointment and self-deprecation he was currently feeling.
“This isn’t just about losing, is it?”
Chuck glanced at him, but didn’t say anything, avoiding looking at any clear features of Trent, eyes landing on his stitched up brow. He carefully lifted the ice pack in his hand and pressed it against Trent’s face, a small smile blossoming on his lips briefly as he sighed again.
“At least I’m good for one thing, huh?”
Trent remained silent for a moment, but it was obvious that the gears in his head were turning at the statement. “What are you talking about?”
“We lost the match. I couldn’t get back to the ring in time. Sorry about that.”
Chuck removed the ice pack from Trent’s face briefly, wincing at the line of stitches on his face before pressing the ice back against the wound. “And sorry about your face.”
“Dude, it’s not like it was you who made me bleed.”
He knew exactly what Trent meant, but it still wasn’t easy to hear and Chuck’s mind to accept. He looked away, feeling the guilt gnawing on him under his skin.
“Yeah… But I could have prevented that. And I didn’t.”
Trent looked at him, observed the clearly defeated demeanor of the other man for a while, before his hand reached for the ice pack and Chuck’s hand holding it, carefully pulling it off his face and lowering it down, taking the obstacle away from between the two of them so he could finally directly look at Chuck.
“It’s not your fault.”
Trent slowly peeled the ice pack from Chuck’s hand, putting it aside as he grabbed a hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers with one another with ease. Chuck slowly looked back at them, staring at their hands for a moment before he could feel Trent giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t care how many times we win, how many times we lose, how it happens or who’s fault it supposedly is. We’re best friends, dude. As long as we’re together, none of that shit matters.”
Chuck nodded, a small smile crossing his lips, followed by a soft chuckle.
“…Yeah. Yeah. Thanks.”
#drabble#character: trent baretta#character: chuck taylor#ship: chucktrent#aew fanfiction#wrestling fanfiction
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
you gotta talk about short story scene-- put a hip out
lmao that's my favorite title too-- I promise there is more context than "What if a werewolf was on old man with creaky joints? What would be the most embarrassing thing that could happen if you were supposed to be doing cool werewolf things in Victorian London? It would be werewolf hip dysplasia."
but that's the main context, yes
Deakins leaned against the wall and laughed, breathless and flushed, hardly managing a few wheezes before gasping again. "Close one, eh?" she paused, waiting for some sign of his displeasure, another grouse to tease him for. "Reeve?"
Reeve lay where he'd fallen, panting, jaws open and tongue lolling. He hadn't been right, he knew he hadn't-- something had gone wrong during the change. He was incomplete, somehow, what he had dismissed as stiffness of many winters now manifesting as deficiency. He lay on his side, dirtying himself on the grimy cobbles.
He could do nothing else.
"Reeve?" Deakins knelt next to him, hands hovering. "What is it?"
He couldn't even tell her not to be stupid-- speech was beyond him, and the pain in his hip made thinking of some signal much too difficult. He let out a long whine, discomfort and frustration both.
"You hurt yourself? Is that it? Where?"
He tried vainly to struggle to his feet, but gave up and slumped back to the ground. Deakins hesitated, her deeply-ingrained instinct against going anywhere near a downed wolf warring with her desire to help.
"Look, you just tell me when I touch something that hurts, how's that?" she didn't wait for an answer before plunging her hands into the thick ruff of fur at his neck, running hands over ridged ribs and poking warily at his belly. He warned her off his paws with a growl, but she jostled his bad leg and was rewarded with a high yelp.
"Alright," she said, presumably for her own benefit. "And you can't get up at all?"
He only looked at her.
"Then we'll have to fetch a doctor," she declared. "I'll-- I'll carry you--"
The idea was obviously impossible, which didn't stop Deakins from gathering him in her arms for an abortive attempt. She succeeded only in dragging his wounded leg over the cobbles, causing him to cry out. Later, he would wonder what power had kept him from sinking his teeth in her arm.
"Oh, I am sorry-- here, you-- you stay there, I'll fetch help--"
Don't be stupid! Reeve would have called after her, had it been in his power. For now, all he could do was lie helpless in the alley, wondering what would become of him when the moon set and he was stranded and crippled in enemy territory...
His ears pricked at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Just this way," Deakins was saying, "my friend is down this alley-- remember, there's money in it for you, for your help and your discretion..."
"'Course, Missus. Glad to oblige. Now, is the gentleman waiting here or-- Jesus Christ!"
"No, no, its quite alright--"
"Stay back! Stay back, beast!"
Reeve rolled his head, getting only a skewed view of Deakins attempting to reassure the dustman that this wolf was, in fact, her friend. "He's quite tame, really, there's no need to worry-- just a few blocks in your cart, that's all I ask..."
Had Reeve been able to voice his opinion, he would have sided with the old man and declined to be wheeled about in a dustcart like yesterday's rubbish. He certainly would have refused the dustman's terms-- Deakins muttered a quick "I am sorry, old boy" before looping an old belt around his jaws, cinching it tight. It took both of them to finally heave him up and over into the cart, dumping him with an unceremonious thud that made him glad of the makeshift muzzle-- the pain was enough to make him do something regrettable. He thrashed in agony, even as Deakins attempted to soothe him and the dustman threatened to fetch the police on them both.
[they go to the vet]
For his part, the dustman pocketed the offered money without a word. When Deakins was pounding on the door, he leaned over the edge of the cart, watching Reeve with fearful fascination. He stretched out a hand, screwing up his courage, and laid it on Reeve's flank. He dragged his fingers through his fur, once, twice, coming away with a hank of hair.
"There's proof I tangled with one and lived to tell," he declared. Reeve wondered if it was for his benefit.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Magi reread] Night 14: Lord of the Dungeon
Still sick, and now my muscles hurt from all that coughing for the last MONTH. But anyway.
Fuck shit up, little magic boy.
Pretty.
Yo, I'm still kinda processing how badly beaten Alibaba's got, like, this is the next chapter and he still hasn't picked himself up. God damn.
First of all, "the slave of the rukh" is such a fucked up wording. Like, you could've said literally anything else. And then the whole "using slaves is my power", yeah, no shit, you have no actual skill other than being a sadistic piece of shit.
Yes, I'm going to overfocus on Alibaba still not standing up, like, bro. Actually, how big part of Magi is Alibaba just getting his shit wrecked.
No one wants you to accept anybody. It'd be an actual insult to be accepted by you.
Damn, what an expression. Shoutout to my boy Aladdin for not giving a shit.
Lmao.
He just wants the flute.
Will Alibaba pick himself up in this chapter? Stay tuned to find out!
Ok, but jokes aside, I 100% don't blame him. Like, dude got thrown into the wall by a Fanalis, and then kicked down by Jamil, that's a totally understandable reaction. It must've hurt like hell, and probably still does. Like, I'm making fun of it, but I legit feel bad for Alibaba.
Oh, shut up.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA TELL HIM, ALADDIN
You think he went to some doctor after this?
Your speak-cloud is wobbly, you're not good!
HE'S ALIBABA'S FRIEND ;______;
And he STOOD UP! With help, but still!
Saya, stop putting in all the Alibaba panels, just because you think he looks pretty there.
*touches*
They look a bit silly.
Lmao, get wrecked.
Oh, hi, Amon!
My son, obviously.
GET WRECKED, lmao. And F for Morgiana. Tho also this is why any "King Vessel Morgiana" AUs just don't work for me - she's literally stated to not have enough magoi to handle having a djinn. MUU barely has enough magoi, and he still can use the full-body djinn equip for several minutes max, and he's not a full-blood Fanalis. So, basically, unless the topic of her not having much magoi is addressed somehow, I'm like
with these AUs, even though they do sound cool. Though, to be fair, I also think her personality doesn't really fit a King Vessel. Ngl, tho, I wonder if that would've been the case if she hasn't spent most her life up until this point as a slave. How much of her personality is nature, and how much of it is her nurture? Tbh, I can kind of imagine her been a bit more like Myron, I guess. Who is, like, one of the two known Fanalis who DON'T have a history of being slaves. Shame the topic of Fanalis is so ignored later on.
On a different note, when it comes to Fanalis, I'm still kinda meh about them in the Final Arc. Like, they're kind of boring, ngl. I've always liked to headcanon them to be pretty conservative (like, give them SOMETHING), and maaaybe slighly look down on humans (they've certainly said something about Morgiana choosing to maintain her human form, instead of returning to her original one, tho I don't remember the specifics). And we know Fanalis are proud as fuck. I've always thought it'd be an interesting contrast with how the world before the Rift looks down on the Fanalis, while the Fanalis past the Great Rift look down on humans. It could've been an interesting topic to explore. Eh, guess I'm adding it to the "three four year timeskip" rewrite-esque fic outline that I have yet to start. Tbh, most of them already have titles, and quite a lot outlined, but this one still doesn't. Not gonna lie, tho, I might divide it a bit into several parts, cuz there'd be so much to cover.
OK, BUT AMON AND ALIBABA ARE LIKE "GRANDPA, AND THE KING VESSEL HE SAID HE DIDN'T WANT". Man, I could really use some Amon's perspective in Magi, as in, how exactly he went from "sigh, since there's nobody better" to "this is my grandson Alibaba, he's very cute, and a little bit pathetic at times, but he's very precious to me, he'd look so good in pigtails :)"
That he did.
You go, big magic boy.
I know as much as you do.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
u should tell me more about asa PRETTYPLEASE
AUGH I REALLY DONT HAVE MUCH. does it have to be only the genshin related parts? well yes ill stick to that because he has like four different flavors depending on what universe i put him in. okay so
this is roughly what he looks like. i thought i had more good picrews of him but i dont apparently<//3 well heres some fun facts about him like in general to start
- best friends with my oc sofia who. i haven't really put into the genshin universe. but if the people ask i can talk about her too loll
- ambulatory wheelchair user, typically uses a cane, has Some chronic illness that i dont really know which,, pots probably. unspecified chronic pain. but the thing is im not chronically ill or disabled myself so i need to search more stuff before im super confident exploring this side of his character lmao
- sadly he is just like baizhu. the chronically ill doctor trope is already filled in genshin but there's always space for someone else! right!
- not pictured here but sometimes i make him have wings. i still haven't decided if he should actually have them or not. when he has wings only one is functional so he can't quite Fly
- wings or no wings he likes birds a lot!
- i chose his name because it means healer or doctor in....hebrew i think? according to google? and it also means just. "wing". in my mother tongue portuguese so kshdksh hitting two symbolisms with one stone
- now focusing on the genshin part. his father is the actual doctor in charge of the cathedral infirmary but is currently on the varka expedition (look this guy's father is. I don't know what to do with him. like in any universe. idk if i give asa oc syndrome and make him a full orphan or if i just leave the man alone because he's a solid guy! a good father! anyways i digress) and asa is in charge sort of in a similar situation to jean being acting grandmaster.
- i think he's besties with barbara. she's like a younger sister. because i think hes around jeans age. (and dilucs and kaeyas i think all of them r around the same age)
- he has an anemo vision but don't ask me how he got it
- catalyst user and healer but do not ask me like what sort of talents he'd have i dont know. don't ask me if he's a 4* or a 5* either i don't know,, but if he were to have a banner his like. title? idk? would be, and this is kinda stupid, Healing Winds of Birdsong - does it not sound like something you'd read on a genshin banner. i think does
- hes very devout to barbatos but at the same time i kinda enjoy the idea of him. questioning some stuff about the archons and gods too. like those medieval(? do not quote me on this) philosophers who thought extensively about religion and the human condition and. etc. does this make sense
- if he knew the annoying bard is no one other than the anemo archon i think he'd combust
- he picks up his fantasy testosterone prescription at the alchemy shop. the image of albedo and sucrose coming up with hrt is just too dear to me
- i want him and kaeya to kiss just because im a kaeya lover and. why not. but i don't have anything developed about them At All forgive me
do you want to see my cringefail voicelines i wrote?
Something to Share: Did you know that Mondstadt alone has over three hundred species of birds? Around the city area, you mostly see pigeons and falcons, but the diversity in places with less human activity is much bigger. Also, a lot of the birds migrate during the winter months, towards warmer climates like Liyue and even Sumeru. Oh, and— um... Forgive me, I seem to have been talking for a while... It's a topic that interests me.
Favorite Food: I tend to like more savory dishes. In fact, Sofia won't let me cook anymore, because I "put too much salt in the food". You know, I don't see the problem. It tastes fine to me.
- oh!! on the topic of favorite foods! i tried coming up with a special dish for him and i ended up picking northern smoked fowl because. vibes. but its a stamina dish and i kinda wish his special dish was a hp one.,, but anyway:
Special Dish: Doctor's Orders
Asa's specialty. The same recipe for smoked fowl with vegetables that's been passed down in Mondstadt for years, with the doctor's own twists. It's a little heavy on the salt, but it tastes really good overall.
plus character voicelines
About Barbara: Barbara? Oh, we wouldn't manage at the cathedral if it wasn't for her. I have taught her a lot, but the healing techniques she comes up with never fail to amaze me. Her presence always brightens up the place and soothes even the most ill of patients. I hold her in very high regards.
About Rosaria: I can't say I approve of Sister Rosaria's negligence towards her duties in the church, or of her blatant disrespect towards the Anemo Archon. That being said... I think I admire her conviction to simply do whatever she wants. Perhaps trying to force her into the role of nun is a bit foolish. This is the city of freedom, after all, is it not?
About Venti: The bard? *sigh* Archons above. He'll sing beautiful melodies about Lord Barbatos, then turn around and immediately slur out the most sacrilegious things I have ever heard in my life. Being around him for too long is exhausting and he always brings trouble. Yet, I find that I can't truly dislike him. Heh, he's an interesting one for sure.
and my entirely self indulgent and overly long About Kaeya voiceline:
About Kaeya: Sir Kaeya? Way too much of a charmer. That overly confident attitude ought to backfire on him sometime. It's easy to get swept away in all his smooth talk, but after a while you start to see it for what it is: a convoluted way to either change the subject or make you the center of his jests... *sigh* Well... I suppose that, when he wants, he isn't entirely awful to talk to... Hm? What? Who– who told you that? No! Why would I go to the tavern "just to see him"!? That's– *ahem* It isn't like that. Is it that far fetched that I might enjoy a drink during my moments of leisure? It's not my fault if the Captain is there all the time... Hmph, did Sofia put you up to this?
yeah. what else can I say about him. i thought of writing character stories for him but couldnt find enough ideas. here's the only salvageable paragraph:
... Asa can recall exactly what Mother Maria told him when he came to her, realization still fresh in his mind, desperate for some sort of guidance.
"The winds lead each of us through different paths. Barbatos has granted you with the power to choose whoever you wish to be; that is part of His gift of freedom."
Like a gust of cool wind that brings with it epiphanies, something clicked inside his chest, like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place.
And it was on that day that the little girl who used to dream of nunhood grew into a sharp young man who named himself "Asa."
okay this is all I've got. for now
#it isnt All of it there's still the underdeveloped alternate universe where he's an amurta student from mondstadt studying in sumeru#but its just a really disconnected idea#my posts#oc tag#right how could i forget. he is definitely some degree of autistic#okay im sleepy and just. typed this entire post like in one sitting#so i didn't proofread it. okay have fun reading my infodump
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
MONKIE KID S1E7: Impossible Delivery (Live rewatch blog)
No comments, can't recognise the title again
Finally! I training episode!
Waoh, ok.... It's a good thing MK got powers or else he would've died from being thrown at that height
"I'm the number one focus guy!" MK, even as a neurotypical, I can see you have something needed to be diagnosed
Your not a focus guy either Wukong
Yeah! Go at him MK!
Ha! MK got him at the Buddha comment
MK's got a point there. Sometimes the same method won't work on a different person SWK
Is LMK animated in China or America? Because sometimes I wonder if this was in China, was the words in English or Chinese
Because Pigsy, SWK enchanted MK's forgetfulness. And this episode needs some sort of conflict
Music is sooooo good!
Yeeeaaah, no
Loving the resume here. And I can see the question mark on the name part
Poor guy
And, MK hold up a traffic
That little boy's voice reminds me of the gingerbread from Shrek saying "The muffin man!" Wait! I found my Leo(lmao nah)
Surprisingly, I don't know what's going to happen in this episode, and I'm already half-way through
Read this, as I'm about to turn this hilarious scene into angst!
MK has this feeling sometimes that he isn’t good enough. Good enough to have this life. He didn’t know when did this feeling started, maybe when he realized that he was abandoned by his birth parents? Or maybe it started when he got the staff. The sudden weight of the “Successor of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and Earth” title thrown onto him might be it. Or maybe the guilt when he messed things up, like the first time he used clones or… or…!
It's half-assed done, but you can see what I'm going for! Besides, it's not like I'm the first one to give this boy some self-worth issues lol
Man, MK getting paranoid/delusional/obsessive like his clones.
!!! I didn't expect those children to be demons! I mean, it is a bit odd that the child's voice sounds that way but there are people whose voices are like that!
Oh, MK is going to deliver noddles to SWK
Very inconsistent to the fact the origin episode of LMK , they had to take a boat to go to flower fruit mountain
Easy choice, which route is much more fun?
*MK picks the scary path* Knew it *sips lemon tea*
You can't be a master of focus instantly, MK.
I'll be honest, SWK advice on 'Focus' sucks. It's a good thing that flawed characters
Man, I thought this forest was just scary faces, but apparently, it says no to me and decided to use thorny vines to prove me wrong
Ok, the voices are too much, its either MK hallucinating or SWK is doing this
Ok, what???? Did I misunderstand SWK's advice on focus? If so, I'm sorry :(
"I also summoned monster trees because I'm stressed, should I see a doctor?" YES! YOU SHOULD! Also, I'm right on the hallucination part!
I didn't know there's little hut in FFM for the monkeys
Yeah no, pretty sure he just wants noodles, MK
Oooow, but for the customer and delivery boy, cuz wrong order! Those are the worst!
AND finished!
Wow, can't beilive I didn't remember anything in this episode
#lmk#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#SeiWatch#Monkie Kid SeiReact#Sei Talk#so I had a break during watching and I saw people shipping Tripipaka with SWK which get to to question how since I can see them father and#son duo! With the amount of scolding Wukong got the the monk I thought of it as a parent situation then again I haven't read the book(Which#I would totally do in the future to have some fun incorporations to the LMK timeline) so I can't exactly judge
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
jackals will see the words "plague doctor" and immediately black out so 👀 im curious about 'Blood Plague with Vampires and Plague Doctor Exorcists Book'
@dearly-beeloved
OKAY. This one is my horror novel, and it's got such a long title because it's just... a lot lmao.
It's about a blood plague that infected 65% of the world, and has varying stages that some people may or may not get to. Most people have the passive stage, but the worst stage is complete transformation into a horrific monster that's pretty much a vampire in that it needs blood (by... eating whole people) to survive, super strong and agile, and weak to religious imagery (mostly Exisa, the Goddess of Mercy that the whole Church involved in maintaining the plague follows. Also there are SO many gods in this universe, even just casual ones that roam the world. Some of them are pretty freaky.)
ANYWAY, the Church performs something called an 'exorcism' on the people who transform. It involves typical exorcism stuff and... surgically removing constantly regenerating organs and teratomas and stuff until the person is 'cured' (not cured but basically not a monster anymore. They gradually start to reform back into a person instead of an amalgam of teeth and bones and other things.). The survival rate is... Not great, but the chance beats just outright putting them down.
The protags are a 14-year-old girl named Fausta that has a minor level of the plague and is training to be a Plague Nurse, and her 28-year-old big brother figure named Arnaud who is pure of the plague so he's a Plague Doctor.
The main plot is still in the works, but it involves ~gruesome murder~ and ~church conspiracy~
It's my baby right now. As a treat, he's the descrip of the peek of the first Vampire that appears in the book. tw for body horror and gore
The arms were split from hand to elbow, sharp rows of tooth-like growths in various shapes and sizes rowing the schism of flesh and bone. The bones of the fingers had grown too thick and too long to be contained, only the remains of shredded skin around the barbed appendages that extended long and far.
As the Doctors lifted the cloth to strap in the legs, Arnaud wondered how they would even manage. The bones were snapped and twisted as if screaming out in protest to the anatomy ordained by the God of Creation. His answer came suddenly as the Doctors counted down, then snapped the almost plantigrade shape from the knees down into a straight-legged position, the body beneath the cloth suddenly jerking.
Arnaud thought he could hear a light clicking, but the way his nerves were screaming had him considering if his senses could currently be trusted.
Next came the upper legs, spread outward into an almost impossible frog-like position. Another countdown and then an ugly popping complimented by the chorus of flesh stretched beyond its limits violently tearing.
The resulting sound could only be described as obscene, ear-splitting, and chilling to the core.
#HOO this turned into a tldr real quick#but man i'm so excited about this wip#answers#wip#dream fics#sort of#jackal!#bee!
3 notes
·
View notes