#my ignorance precedes me lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lydiimae · 10 months ago

Text

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

968 notes · View notes

healinghyunjin · 9 months ago

Text

Blossom

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader (fem)

Genre: crack, smut, fluff; historical!AU, magic!AU, fuck-or-die(ish)!AU, enemies(ish)-to-lovers!AU, 18+

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, outdated sexual norms/attitudes, public sex.

Author’s Note: After another ~long~ hiatus... I'm back! The premise of this fic is heavily inspired by a super old, now deleted AO3 fic I once read for a now dead fandom (showing my age here for you children lol). I love navigating these forced interaction scenarios - so please let me know your thoughts! Feedback and reblogs are love as always - and I now have a Ko-Fi that I would really appreciate contributions to as well (linked in my Bio)! Thank you for your support~

Summary: But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court.

You were sure you looked like a thundercloud - dark skirts swirling, white sparks crackling from your fingertips - as you stalked through the castle towards the royal chambers.

“Milady!” Changbin chased after you, your long-suffering knight trying his best to head you off. “His Majesty is in a council meeting right now,” he huffed out. “Maybe we can seek an audience another time?”

“I don’t ‘seek audiences’ from His Majesty, Bin,” the title grating in your mouth. “I talk to Kim Seungmin when I want to talk to Kim Seungmin - especially when he wants to pretend like I don’t exist.”

You were laying it on a bit thick. But you were the High Sorceress. You had no insignificant amount of pride yourself, and nothing made your temper flare like Seungmin outmaneuvering you - exactly like he’d just done.

You arrived at the heavy wrought iron doors of Seungmin’s private chambers and, with a swish of your palm, sent the doors flying open, almost rattling off their hinges. A tableful of lords turned around to gawk at you - but you only had eyes for the man at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, watching you stalk into the room with a barely concealed grin. “And there she is.” The faint note of humor in Seungmin’s voice made you want to wring his neck.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted in the frostiest voice you could muster up.

Seungmin smirked. “You only use my proper title when you’re fit to rip my throat out, Lady Sorceress.”

You ignored the barb. “We have an urgent matter to discuss, my lord.”

One of the old, stodgy lords piped up in a reedy, disapproving voice. “What can take precedence over matters of council and state, Sorceress?”

“Matters of national security, Lord Park.” Seungmin rose to his feet, making everyone else jump up to theirs as well. “Council is adjourned, my lords.”

You held your head high as the councilmen streamed out of the room around you, some barely bothering to disguise their resentment. Seungmin sauntered his way around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. You scowled as you inevitably had to tilt your head back just to look into his amused face.

“You’ve been avoiding me, my witch.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snapped back, cringing at how petulant you sounded even to your own ears.

Of course you’d been avoiding him. Ever since he’d slapped those scrolls down on your worktable a week ago now, you hadn’t been able to think about him without flushing, let alone be in the same room as him. It would be for the good of the people, he’d announced crisply, looking so tall and prim and regal as he towered over you sitting on your little garden stool. I’m sure you won’t see any harm in it. You’d scanned through the parchment, ignoring the scribe’s careful translations to parse the ancient runes yourself. It outlined an ancient magical ritual to replenish the barrier wards for your nation if they ever fell - which they had. But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court.

Seungmin snapped you out of your thoughts with a brief “Ahem,” quirking a skeptical eyebrow at you. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Every time I’ve gone to your rooms since the day I gave you those scrolls, you’re conveniently ‘not there,’ and that poor fool,” he flicked a thumb over to point at Changbin, “is stuck trying - and failing - to make excuses for you.”

You shot a glare over at Changbin - he didn’t look sufficiently embarrassed of himself, but you would deal with that later. “Well, I’m here now, my lord. And I’d appreciate it if you could tell me how you unilaterally decided to add ‘Publicly Deflowering the High Witch’ to your agenda for this evening?”

You’d hoped to embarrass Seungmin, browbeat him - like you’d clearly done to Changbin, judging from the choking sound that came from next to you. But you’d underestimated your enemy.

Seungmin sighed, clasping his arms behind his back. “Because we don’t have a choice in the matter, my dear witch. If you’d allowed me the chance to actually talk to you this week, I could have convinced you of that, and you'd have had time to prepare yourself. But - you didn’t, and so, I had to force your hand.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his piercing stare as he continued. “I know you translated the runes yourself - you know just as well as I do that this ritual needs to be done soon. Now, if we don’t want the Eastern Army taking advantage and invading us as soon as they muster up the forces. But unlike you, my lady - I don’t have the luxury to pretend like this problem will go away if I ignore it.”

And that was exactly what you hated most about Kim Seungmin. He was smart and logical to a fault - enough so that he’d trained himself to not let pesky emotions get in the way of doing what needed to be done. You on the other hand… the less said the better on that front.

Before you could snark something back at him or even just bristle up, Seungmin stepped away from you, rubbing his hands together. “Now that that’s been settled, I’m sure you have no more objections. Anyways, you have a busy afternoon ahead of you, Lady Sorceress. I’ve sent several maids to your chambers to help ready you for this evening - I’m sure you remember how exact the runes were in terms of preparation.” Seungmin wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, striding out of the room.

That patronizing bastard. You briefly contemplated throwing a fireball at his laughing back - but being executed for treason wasn’t exactly the way you intended to go out.

With a deep, soul-weary sigh, you turned on your heel to leave, resigning yourself to your fate.

Of course, if you knew exactly how the rest of your afternoon was going to be spent, you might just have thrown that fireball at Seungmin and gotten it over with.

After that useless showdown, Changbin frogmarched you back to your rooms, handing you off to an actually intimidating keeper - Chaeryeong, your personal maid. But, to your even greater chagrin, she wasn’t alone. As promised, an army of maids descended on you, all charged with different vicious tasks - stripping your skin bare and smooth with hot sugar paste; kneading various herbal, floral unguents into your skin before dunking you into cold and hot baths; brushing your hair out until it fairly gleamed in the fading sunlight. By the time you were passed off to Chaeryeong for her final inspection, you almost didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

Chaeryeong clicked her tongue approvingly as she walked around you, tightening the laces on your virginal white chemise. “You finally look presentable, milady.”

You bristled. “Are you saying I usually don’t?”

“Last week I had to pull a twig out of your hair before sending you down to supper. There isn’t a single dress of yours that doesn’t have mudstains, milady, and you think a splash of cold water every morning or two is enough to care for your skin.” Chaeryeong looked scandalized.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I’m glad one of us is satisfied with this situation.”

“You’re not?”

“Why in the name of the Goddess would I be?”

“Sleeping with a man who’s young, tall, handsome, powerful, wealthy,” Chaeryeong giggled as she counted off each word on her fingers, “isn’t the worst thing in the world, milady.” She flicked you a mischievous glance as she smoothly slid to stand behind you. “Especially when the man in question has a major soft spot for you.”

You scoffed. “Kim Seungmin doesn’t have a soft spot for me, Chae. He can't even be in the same room as me without snarking at me - and I can't remember the last time he actually said anything nice to me.”

Chaeryeong’s fingers stilled in your hair as she stared you down in the mirror. “You really believe that, don’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at her in response. She let out a deep sigh. “For such a brilliant witch… you really can be dense.” She shook her head before reaching over to grab flowers to weave into your hair. “I hope you realize - the one thing standing between him and war is you. Most men - especially a King - would have just tossed you onto that table and had their way with you. And maybe they would have begged your forgiveness and understanding afterwards - maybe, if they were worried about you cursing them into oblivion. No one else would have spent a whole week waiting to try and convince you into doing this willingly.”

You opened your mouth to snap something back in your defense... and realized you had nothing to say.

“See,” Chaeryeong murmured softly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re… willfully blind to His Majesty’s kindness towards you. He’s always treated you with respect - and made sure you’re treated with respect. I wouldn’t take that for granted, my lady - or ignore what’s behind that mask he puts up all the time.”

As she put the final touches on your hair, you couldn’t help but reflect on Chaeryeong’s words. You had extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress…but no, that wasn’t exactly right. You were given extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress - by your King. If it wasn’t for his unwavering support for you - against the Council, against any and all reactionary forces - you wouldn't hold any of the power you did. Sure, he riled you up, jerked you around a bit - and you still hated just how easily he could outwit you. But you were being childish to fixate on that - to lose sight of the forest for the trees.

“And here’s the final touch.” Chaeryeong sidled up to you with a long scrap of silk in her hands - your blindfold. “You’re not allowed to see His Majesty until the ritual starts.” Her quick fingers made short work of fastening it around your head - and being the jerk that she was, she put it on properly tight, making sure you couldn’t see a thing. “Maybe that’ll teach you to let yourself lean on him for once,” she mused, before pulling you up out of your chair with none too gentle hands.

Chaeryeong, as always, was right. You were completely unmoored by the loss of your sight, limiting your magical abilities too. You were forced to rely completely, like a baby, on Chaeryeong to guide you through the halls to the oldest wing of the castle - and you only realized that you were in front of Seungmin when the two of you came to a sudden halt, a reverent “Your Majesty” coming from her lips.

This was it.

Chaeryeong subtly pulled you down into a curtsy, pinching you in the back to make sure you stayed low as she stepped away from your side. From the sound of her sharp footsteps receding down the hall and the lack of any other noise around you, you presumed she’d left - and you were now alone with your King.

“You may rise.” Seungmin’s amused drawl sounded from somewhere high above your head. Disoriented by your imposed blindness, you stumbled a little as you stood up - but you were caught by warm hands encircling your arms, steadying you on your feet. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?” Such a tease, you thought. But the gentle tone of his voice, the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your arms… he was helping ground you, to put you more at ease - which only made you feel more guilty.

“My lord,” you started softly - earning a harsh inhale in surprise from Seungmin. “I… I owe you an apology. My behavior earlier today - for this entire week - has been immature and not fitting for a ranking member of your court. Forgive me for my negligence.” You made to dip into a curtsy again - but Seungmin’s grip on your arms tightened, keeping you from lowering yourself.

There was a heartbeat of silence before Seungmin responded, his voice more tender than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know what prompted this… change, but - you don’t need to apologize. I knew we both knew this is what must be done, and I knew we were going to eventually do it - but that doesn’t make it any easier for you. You didn’t want this with me, and I know that.”

Why did that last statement sound a false note in your heart? You ignored it in favor of speaking out. “But I’ve spent the past week shirking my duty. You had to force me back in line.”

“And that is my responsibility as King, my sorceress. No harm done.” You could tell that he was leaning down closer to you, his voice loud and clear in your ear. “And remember - neither this kingdom nor I will ever forget this sacrifice.”

There was an oddly charged moment of silence after that statement - which was abruptly broken by the sensation of the ground suddenly falling away from under you. You gasped as surprisingly sturdy arms lifted you up until you were cradled against a lean, hard chest. “Seungmo!” You squeaked, the childhood nickname slipping past your lips. “S-since when were you strong enough to do this?”

There was a pause - you were positive that Seungmin had rolled his eyes at you. “Just because I don’t have bulging biceps like that bodyguard of yours doesn’t mean that I’m a weakling, witch.”

“Well, it won’t be good to kick things off with you tripping over your feet carrying me in,” you muttered sulkily.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver as Seungmin tsked, his warm breath ghosting across the sensitive shell of your ear. “Such disrespect for your king? Bold, given that you’re at my mercy for the next hour.”

“Next hour? That ego of yours is still clearly giant.”

Seungmin let out a husky laugh. “It’s not the size of my ego you should be worried about right now, sweet.” You thumped a useless fist against his chest - even as your core involuntarily clenched and slickened.

There was a ear-ringingly loud blast of trumpets, followed by the creak of the gates to the ancient hall being pushed open. The murmurs and chatter of the crowd awaiting your arrival fell silent, an almost eerie hush settling in as Seungmin strode into the hall. Even with the enormous fire spluttering away in the ancient hearth, the room was always chilly; gooseflesh pimpled your arms, and you almost automatically burrowed closer into Seungmin’s neck for warmth - at least, that’s what you told yourself. The sharp raps of Seungmin’s footsteps against the flagstones came to a halt, and you were securely sat onto a hard surface - the High Table. Your sacrificial altar, you mused to yourself cynically.

You jumped a little as you felt gentle fingers clasp your hands, giving you a firm squeeze. Those warm fingertips then ghosted across your cheeks, twining through your hair as they searched for the knot of your blindfold. Your heart was bounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as Seungmin leaned into you, that familiar, titilatingly musky scent of his flooding your senses as he worked to unravel the tight knot, until the blindfold finally came free.

You blinked your eyes open to mellow, golden light - and the sight of Seungmin standing over you, watching you carefully with a small, soft smile. The great hall was awash with candlelight, long tapering candles and sticks of smoking perfume burning all around you, throwing the faces of the crowd of onlookers beyond you into shadow - but bathing Seungmin in glorious, warm light. He looked impeccably regal as he stood above you in his smart black leather doublet and swan white shirtsleeves, his royal purple ermine-edged cloak clasped around his throat. His hair was up, brushed off his forehead, and the gold of his royal circlet shone out bright against the ink black of his hair - but the brightest of all were his eyes, warm and deep brown, steady and clear as he - your King, you truly felt down to your bones for the first time - held your gaze.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself fall back, the ancient stone of the table icy against your spine. While you couldn’t see any of the spectators surrounding you and Seungmin - the vaulted ceiling of the great hall the only thing in your line of sight - it felt like you could sense their gaze prickling across your skin, weighing you down. But before you could let your mind wander too far, Seungmin was there, leaning over you with those broad, square shoulders, blocking your sight of anything but him. You felt your cheeks flame as his hand came up to cup your face, and your heart skipped a beat as he pressed a petal soft kiss to your forehead, breathily whispering into your skin. “It will be good, my sweet. Trust me.”

Maybe Chaeryeong was onto something… You searched his eyes, finding so much affection and reassurance beaming back at you that you blinked your own shut - before giving him a brief nod.

He let his lips drag over to your temple, then down to your cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake as his lips trailed lower and lower, down your jawline, down your neck - and lower. Your mind reeled, your hands fisting the flimsy material of your gown. This was supposed to be brief and impersonal - you’d even readied a lubrication charm in preparation for the inevitable. But you should have known that Seungmin wouldn’t just do an adequate job like that. You were fighting for your life to stay silent as he added his teeth into the mix, working the thin, sensitive skin of your throat until you felt the sickly sweet pain of a bruise forming. His hand slid down from your cheek so he could softly thumb at the mark - his mark - marring your skin, and when he pressed down just right on the bruise, you whimpered - and watched as his eyes darkened to black.

From there, he was insatiable. Your hands flew up to his shoulders at the swipe of his tongue against your hardening nipple; they desperately slid to clutch at his hair when he took it whole into his mouth, the wet heat tantalizing even through the cotton of your chemise. He palmed your neglected breast hard, the soft flesh spilling through his fingers. A whine finally tore itself free from your throat, and Seungmin snapped his head up to look at you, lips twisting into a triumphant smirk. “I thought you weren’t going to enjoy this, Lady Sorceress.” His fingers came up to tweak your nipple - hard - as he mouthed carelessly at your other breast, his eyes watching you hungrily as you writhed under his touch. The pleasure carried you away on a hazy cloud of lust, into the dreamland of dangerous possibilities. What would it feel like to have this dumb chemise out of the way, so his fingers and lips could traipse your naked skin? What would it feel like to have the heat of his bare skin pressed up against yours - the weight and friction of his hard chest crushing into your sensitive breasts?

Your attention was yanked back into the land of the living at sudden, discordant noise: gasps and murmurs, you quickly realized, rippling through your audience - for your King was dropping to a knee at your feet, hands sliding with promise up your legs under your chemise. You shot up onto your elbows, staring down at him in horror. “Your Majesty,” you hissed. “This is wanton.”

Seungmin arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather be wanton than have you in pain at my hands.” You felt a traitorous flutter in your chest. “And most importantly - when you have the kingdom’s most powerful woman laid out in front of you... you worship her.”

Those large, long-fingered hands of his found purchase in the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing them spread and keeping them spread with that hidden strength of his. He let out a small groan at the sight of your swollen folds, dragging a single, deliberate fingertip down the length of your slit. At the very first touch of his soft lips to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you choked out a moan - and startled as the candles around you all simultaneously popped. From between your legs, Seungmin laughed darkly. “Looks like I won’t need to ask you whether I’ve done a good job,” he said, the sensation of his breath and lips against your core making you squirm with stimulation. His hands slid up to your hips, anchoring you in place as he lapped languidly at your cunt, tongue flicking in and out of your aching entrance, nose rubbing up against your swollen little pearl.

There was no chance in hell you could stay quiet any more. As a moaning keen spilled forth from your lips, your eyes flicked up to the shadowy figures in the crowd watching you. You’d thought they would be judgmental - critical, gossipy, as people always were in situations like this. Instead… there wasn’t a face you could make out that wasn’t flushed, expression glazed over. Seungmin slid his arms under your legs, yanking you down the table until the base of your spine rested on the very edge of the table, your core putty under his mouth as he supported your weight - and you watched as some woman in the crowd whimpered, biting her lip in response.

Your head lolled back onto the table, and you started shuddering in Seungmin’s hands.

“I guess I was wrong about needing an hour.” With a final kiss to your folds, Seungmin rose to his feet, leisurely wiping his mouth on the back of one hand, the other drifting down to the laces of his trousers. “I didn’t anticipate just how thoroughly you would enjoy my attentions, my witch.” Tease. His eyes danced with mirth as you whined in annoyance. You felt the blunt tip of him dragging through your folds, its weight catching deliciously against the tight ring of your entrance. “I’ll start slow,” he murmured, a hand coming up to brace himself above your head. And from the first breach of his length into your walls, you knew you were in trouble.

“Big,” you gasped out. Seungmin let his free hand run loose over the flesh of your thighs and hips, kneading and caressing and soothing. “Relax for me, sweet - it’ll be easier if you let me in.” His voice was breathy and soft, eyes so warm - daresay loving - as he leaned in over you, covering your body with his. You gave him a small nod, breathing deeply and doing your best to let your body sink into the stone under you. As he carefully, firmly worked the rest of his length into your tight cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the deep, deep stretch of him, your spine arching off the table as your body contorted to accommodate him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pupils dilated with lust. “Made to take me.”

And as the sting and discomfort started to morph into the burning, insatiable stretch of pleasure, you were inclined to agree with him.

“Let me know when I can move, sweet,” he asked, the flat of his hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower belly. “Please,” you rasped out - and the delightedly vicious grin that curled his lips in response only sent another surge of fire through you. Your limbs ached to twine around him, pulling him down into you, imprisoning him between your legs - but you were determined to maintain some public decorum. Seungmin made the decision for you though, salaciously bold as ever as he leaned forward into you, splaying your legs out wide, knees almost to your chest. He tested the waters with a rapid snap of his hips in and out - and the two of you stared at each other with wide eyes at just how deep it all felt in this position. Seungmin’s hips started rocking back and forth, almost as if on their own volition - almost as if they were enchanted - and your hands desperately scrabbled for purchase on the unyielding stone as he started pounding into you.

Your hips canted up into his, trying to answer his thrusts with your own. And you were clearly doing something right, judging by his drawn out groans. “Mine,” he moaned. As he bore down on you, every thrust ground delicious friction into your bundle of nerves - and Seungmin’s hips were driving into yours at such a punishing pace that you were overwhelmed by stimulation. You were sure the two of you were making an absolute mess, the squelching sounds of him pumping into you only growing louder with every thrust. Just with his lips and nose and tongue, the friction and sensation and pleasure had all already brought you close to the cliff of your peak. You knew it wasn’t going to be much longer now before he dragged you over - but there was something positively strange happening to you. Your pleasure was merely riding the edge of some deeper, powerfully visceral sensation that had you gasping, shivering with every plunging stroke. But Seungmin, your ever-wise, your ever-aware Seungmin, had cottoned onto what was happening to you - and wrapping you tightly up into his arms, he only picked up the pace of his hips. “Let go, sweet,” he eked out. “I’ve got you safe, here - let go, my queen.” And before your mind could even process what he’d just given away, you felt yourself clenching up, eyes squeezing shut and nerves singing in pleasure as you hit your release - the pain of your fingers digging into the broad expanse of his back, the spasms of your tight cunt triggering Seungmin’s release simultaneously, spurts of his hot, thick seed flooding into your core, serving as a balm for your aching walls as he collapsed into your waiting arms.

Before you could let the waves of pleasure carry away your mind with it, however - your eyes shot open at the gasps and shouts coming from around you. Gold - that was all you could see - a golden bubble encasing you and your King. Seungmin lifted his head up from where it was pillowed on your chest, a look of pure wonder on his face as the two of you watched the bubble slowly float and collapse inwards, coalescing into a glowing yellow orb hovering above all of your heads. The hazy whorls of incense and candle smoke in the air took on a bright golden hue - before it all whooshed outwards in a rapid gust of wind, rattling the windows of the hall as the orb and its golden mist exploded out into the sky . You recognized the magic for what it was - the largest, purest barrier charm you’d ever witnessed.

You and Seungmin had pulled it off. A giggle of delight squeezed out of your chest, and you let your gaze snap back down to the man resting on his elbows over you. Seungmin was watching you with a small, mysterious smile, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath. And as you looked back at him… you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, as powerful as if the ground had literally shifted under your feet. An almost unbearable fondness filled your heart as you beheld him - your King, your protector…your lover.

You had been right about one thing - there would be no going back from this, at least for you. But now you found yourself wondering… why was that such a bad thing?

Ignoring the shuffling footsteps around you as your audience slowly started to disperse, you let your arms wrap around Seungmin, relishing the feeling of his muscles bunching under your touch as he slid his arms in turn around you, helping you to sit upright. His dark eyes were fixed on the place the two of you were joined as he slowly extricated himself from you, the feeling of his sticky seed trickling out from between your legs strange and foreign. That ever intelligent, searching gaze then slowly scanned your body, looking you over head to toe as he tucked himself away in his trousers, before his eyes fluttered shut. Seungmin let out a slow exhale before blinking his eyes open again - and you were startled to see that professional mask of his slide back into place.

“Up you go,” he murmured, arm sliding around your back as he helped you off the table, supporting you as your legs quailed under your weight. With a few deft pulls, he unfastened his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead. You were thankful for the warmth it provided - and the coverage, you realized, as you noticed the servants hovering at a respectful distance from the two of you. “Give me a second,” Seungmin said before turning away to address his valet and knight-at-arms.

One of the maids stepped forward, a fan in her hand to put out the few lingering candles. Before you could even hesitate on what to do, she dipped into a low curtsy, bowing her head - to you. “Your Highness,” she breathed out, an almost reverent look on her face as she glanced back up at you. Awkward with the unfamiliar courtesy, you smiled hesitantly, tilting your head at her in acknowledgement.

How had you misjudged this situation so badly? Part of your hesitation leading up to all of this had been because you’d thought that you’d be made out to be a slag - no better than the King’s kept woman. Why hadn’t you appreciated the power inherent in this? With the spectacular care with which he’d pleasured you, with the demonstration of your magic in front of the whole court, Seungmin had marked you - just as he’d told you with those hungry eyes - out to be the most powerful woman in the kingdom.

You snapped out of your thoughts to see Seungmin making his way back to stand in front of you. You frowned to see that mask of his still in place, a strange awkwardness in his manner as he addressed you. “I can help you back to your rooms now. Or,” he turned to gesture behind him, “one of the servants can take you if you prefer.”

You arched a critical eyebrow at him. “Could we go to your chambers instead?”

His eyes widened for a second, before you watched understanding wash over his face. “Ah yes, that was careless of me - there’s too many stairs to get back to your chambers. You can rest in mine as long as you need.”

Wrapping an arm loosely around you, he let you lean on him as the two of you walked out of the hall. His rooms weren’t too far away, the royal chambers taking up a significant portion of the ancient wing of the castle. But an awkward silence reigned over the two of you, Seungmin stoically looking straight ahead as you limped along beside him.

Something had clearly changed in you - because for once, instead of being the reactive fool you normally were, you saw the situation - and his reaction - for what it actually was. Seungmin was taking his turn to be the awkward overthinker - a role he’d grown out of once he’d become King… except when it came to a few specific things he couldn’t stay purely rational about. The things he cared about the most, the things that mattered most deeply… in this case - you.

You sighed. You’d probably need to gift Chaeryeong a necklace or something after all of this was over.

You bided your time until Seungmin finally shut the two of you into his chambers. He’d turned away to lock the doors behind him - and startled when he turned back around to find you standing right in front of him. As you stared up at him, watching his lips twitch in discomfort… you came to a shocking realization.

“You never kissed me,” you breathed out, even more surprised as you said it. He’d kissed you literally everywhere else - but he hadn’t touched your lips. You gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Why?”

Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. “It felt too…intimate.”

What? “You took my virginity - in public. We unleashed a magical force field together,” you deadpanned, trying to get a laugh out of him - and failing, as Seungmin continued to look at you stoically. “I’d say that’s pretty intimate, my lord.”

He shrugged, hugging his arms around him and hesitating for a second - before bluntly, in Seungmin fashion, getting to the heart of the matter. “The reality is that… freely given sacrifice, prophecy, whatever you want to call it - I took something from you that you didn’t mean for me to have.” It was a testament to Seungmin’s poise that his voice stayed even, his eyes stayed steadily on you as he spoke. “I wanted you to have something - a part of you - you could still give away of your own will.” He sagged heavily into the doorframe, finally breaking eye contact as he trailed off.

Poor baby. Your heart fluttered. “That is… quite thoughtful of you, my lord,” you choked out, taking a small step forward. Then another. And another, inching towards him. “So - that means it’s alright with you for me to do this, right?” Reaching up, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up onto your tiptoes to press your body into his. His hands reflexively grabbed your waist, steadying you even as his eyes widened in surprise - before fluttering shut as you pressed your lips to his.

His mouth was divine heat - soft, pliable against yours. He gasped as you nipped at his lower lip, and you seized the chance to lick into his mouth, deepening the kiss until your head was whirling, ignorant of where you ended and he began.

When you finally pulled away for air, his lips chased yours for a second before he caught himself. You giggled, beaming up at him. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?”

Seungmin let out a low warm laugh, such fondness in his eyes that you couldn’t help but shy away. “I have much, much lower to fall still, don’t worry,” he murmured as he bent down over you, his hair falling into his eyes as he smiled. In a single, smooth movement, he flipped the two of you around so he had you pinned up against the wall, his body pressed firmly into yours.

You cleared your throat. “Y-you really like having me against hard surfaces, don’t you?”

He shrugged, focus elsewhere as his fingers busied themselves with the laces of your chemise. “Seems like it’s the only way to keep you good for me, witch mine.” You whined as his hand accidentally grazed your sore, tender nipple, the sound making his eyes snap back to yours. A dark, wicked smile curled his lips before he crashed his mouth back onto yours, long fingers working your breast deliberately, possessively. You responded with enthusiasm, tangling your own fingers into his silky hair, until the spell was broken - for you at least - by loud noises from outside his chambers.

You pulled away from his lips with a loud smack. “What’s that?”

“Never mind that,” he rasped out, pulling you in tight against him. “Worry about it later.” Your breath hitched as he nosed his way into your neck, pulling at the loosened neck of your chemise to expose your collarbone for him to feast on.

Steeling yourself, you pushed your hands firmly against his chest. “Seungmo, I want to worry about it now.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, but let you go without a fight, releasing you from his embrace. Turning on your heel, you tugged him along to his balcony. The sounds had seemed to come from the royal gardens, which were sprawled right below Seungmin’s chambers. Pulling your cloak - his cloak - more tightly around you, you stepped out onto the balcony - and froze, as an astounding sight brought the two of you to a standstill.

Wherever you looked - below you, around you - every single plant and tree was in abundant bloom. Regardless of season, of age - fruit and flowers were everywhere, swinging in the breeze, littering the ground. You turned to Seungmin in shock - only to see him looking back at you with loving, wondrous awe. “That’s all you,” he murmured, brushing a fond hand against your cheek. “My powerful, mesmerizing sorceress.”

You flushed. “No, it’s not.” You stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s us.” You tiptoed up to press a kiss into his cheek - and promptly hid into Seungmin’s neck as whoops and cheers rang up to you from the gardens below.

Seungmin laughed, tucking you into his side as he led the two of you back inside. “Well, you know what this means,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Shooting a dazzling smile your way, he caught you up in his arms once again, the heady sensation already warm and familiar to you - before peremptorily throwing you onto his bed.

“The fate of the flora of this kingdom is in our hands, Lady Sorceress.” He intoned in a faux serious voice - made only the more ridiculous by the sight of him crawling on all fours towards you on the bed. “We have crucial work to do, milady - and we must start posthaste.”

You threw your head back in laughter before wrapping your limbs around him. “Yes, my lord - let’s start immediately.”

Fin.

[If you made it all the way here... please comment, reblog and give me feedback!! My Ko-Fi is also linked in my blog if you're able to support :)]

#skz fic #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #seungmin x reader #seungmin fic #seungmin smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction

662 notes · View notes

daemour · 10 months ago

Text

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees. You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

1K notes · View notes

laughing-with-god · 1 year ago

Text

Unsaid Vow I

(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)

Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.

Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!

Read first: Prologue

“I’m a grown man.”

These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.

You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.

If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.

“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.

“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.

“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”

You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth. How could you ever forget that hellish day?

“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.

“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”

“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.

Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.

It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.

“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”

“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.

“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.

“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”

Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.

With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”

The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.

You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.

It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.

No.

Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.

Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.

Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.

A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.

You had asked why, bewildered at the request.

Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?

“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.

That didn’t really make sense to you.

You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.

It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.

It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.

You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.

When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.

“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”

“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.

The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.

You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.

The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.

“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.

“Thanks mama.”

The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.

“Something wrong, dumpling?”

“It tastes…fa-fam-”

“Familiar?”

“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”

You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”

Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.

Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.

“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”

“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”

Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.

Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.

Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.

So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”

Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.

“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”

“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.

With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.

When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.

Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.

‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’

#yandere jungkook #bts #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts fic #yandere imagines #bangtan boys #bts x reader

1K notes · View notes

wormwrites · 2 months ago

Text

villains like yours

jason todd x f!reader | 1.4k words | hurt/comfort

warnings: allusion to sa in reader's past, very self-indulgent fic, if i should include any other tags let me know!

a/n: this is my first fic in a very long time, so be gentle lol. excuse any awful grammar mistakes, enjoy!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Most of the time, when Jason came home after patrol, you were ready to take care of him. Comfort him, help him rinse the blood from his knuckles, stitch his wounds, and hold him. He’d rest his head on your heart, and be reassured that despite the violence on the streets, you’re still here, heart beating steadily, each thump reminding him why he fights, adding to the overflowing cup of his love for you.

It took a long time to get to that point, for him to let you see him like that, his soul stripped raw from whatever had happened on patrol. He’d go to a safe house to wash up first, lock himself in the bathroom, or even go to the manor. He’d do whatever he could to keep that violent and dark side of his life away from you, but somewhere along the line, he saw your own darkness, and found parts of it had nestled its way into his ribs, beside his lungs, where it had wrapped itself up with his own.

Today was different. Where he’d usually open the window to you laying in bed, scrolling on your phone, he saw an empty bed, sheets rumbled, empty of you or your two cats.

“Princess?”

If he hadn’t had the extra edge to his senses, both the one crafted by the bat and by the pit, he wouldn’t have heard the soft hiccup that came from the bathroom, or the soft sobs that preceded it.

Quickly his gear was dropped in a haphazard pile on the floor and he was knocking on the bathroom door.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was soft as he tried to calm his quickly rising heart.

“I-I’m alright Jay.” Your voice sounded heavy, your throat sore. He could still hear sniffles.

“It’s just some bad cramps, I’ll be out soon.”

He didn’t believe that for a second, and before he could think about it, he had roughly shoved the door open. The building's old lock stood no chance against him when you were hurting.

When Jason opened the door, he saw you, curled up on the ground next to the bathtub, face flushed and eyes stung red with tears. You were holding your knees so tightly he could see the strain on your knuckles and wrists. He quickly bent down and swept you into his arms, and despite your earlier words, you immediately crumpled into him. You buried your face in his neck, desperate for any comfort. One hand quickly went to hold your head, the other to your back, both stroking softly.

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured alongside other soft words of comfort.

After a minute or two, he carefully rearranged the two of you, setting you on his lap so that you didn’t bruise yourself on the hard bathroom tile. Carefully, Jason coaxed you out of his neck, hand gently cupping your face and wiping your tears away.

“What’s wrong? What can I do?” You quickly just began shaking your head, mouth opening a few times, unable to form words.

“It- It’s nothing” You said quickly, but with a soft and meaningful look from Jason, you stuttered for a few moments before finally speaking.

“I can’t- I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it, about…” you made another soft sob sound, and your eyes glazed over, unseeing of your lover in front of you, seeing something, -someone else.

“...him”

Immediately, Jason understood. Of course he understood. He wasn’t the only one with villains in his past; memories he’d rather avoid. Long before the Joker had picked up that crowbar in Ethiopia, Jason knew of villains like yours.

Your villain didn’t need to paint his face or employ goons to commit his evils, he just needed to say the right words, smile at the right moments. He didn’t need a weapon to destroy and violate you, he just needed to say a few choice words at choice moments. He only needed to ignore a few choice words from you.

Jason wasn’t good with handling emotional situations like these, he was still learning, improving his emotional intelligence after being raised by the most emotionally constipated man in Gotham. He never knew what to do or say, but you always insisted he does the right things, so he holds your face in his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and tries his best to push all the love and care he feels for you into it.

“Everything is alright my love, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” he cooed, arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you. As he holds you, whispering soft reassurances, it takes all of his will power to not to hunt down the man who did this to you years ago, to not tear him limb from limb. The strongest restraint comes from him knowing that you deserve to be the one to do that, not him.

Eventually he picks you up and carries you out to the kitchen, setting you down on a stool and quickly leaving to grab a blanket from the couch. On his way to wrap you up in it, he gives a look to your cat, Moose.

“Go comfort her, hairball,” he whispers, pointing at your slouched figure. The petulant cat, usually indifferent to Jason, agrees, jumping on the counter and licking your face in earnest, while Jason begins fixing some tea.

“I’m sorry…” you breathe out, finally having stopped shaking. Jason puts your favorite mug, filled with some comforting Earl Grey, in front of you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart” He reaches his hand out, palm up.

“No, I know how hard some nights are for you. I don’t like adding to it.”

“Hey, nuh uh, what is it you always tell me when I’m in a bad place?” Your eyes meet and he sees you are back to yourself, although still clearly shaken.

“.. we take care of each other,” you eventually let out, meeting his outstretched hand with your own. Your other arm is wrapped around the cat now curled up in front of you, practically on your chest. “Still...” you let out a small sigh

“How was patrol?”

“The usual. Stopped some muggings, beat up some of Black Mask’s guys." Then a grin appears on his face, “Saw Tim get his BatBurger stolen by a crow.” he adds with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with gentle light.

“I think the most rewarding part, though, was when I comforted this sweet girl on 22nd street. I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I think I got through to her.” He waited with a baited breath to see if you’d follow the bit.

“...I bet you did, you’re better at comforting people than you think you are. I bet she feels a lot better now that she knows the big bad Red Hood is always going to protect her.” A small smile starts at the corner of your lips.

“I hope so. She was real pretty too, the kind of girl that makes me speechless, I think if I see her again I may just ask her out.”

“She may just say yes.” You finally smile fully, a small and muted smile, but Jason sees it as a victory nevertheless. “Maybe you should just come kiss her right now?”

Jason needs no more invitation. He quickly rounds the kitchen island and meets his lips to yours as the butterflies that seem to have lived in his stomach ever since he met you flutter their wings once more. His fingers hold your face. It’s not a heated kiss, it's sweet and soft. A comfort for you both to feel your pieces meet each other in perfect harmony. The darkness and hurt behind each of your ribs blending into one, a burden carried equally between the two of you.

“Meooooow,” the cat between you two protests. You two separate with a small laugh, both your hearts a little lighter.

“Sorry baby” you coo at your cat, scratching his favorite spot under his chin, and Jason pouts.

“What about me? I’m the one losing kisses here!” He whines, and you playfully roll your eyes and give him a peck.

“Thank you, Jay,” you say as Jason puts the now empty mugs of tea in the dishwasher.

“I.. I would have had a hard time pulling myself out of that place alone.”

“Always, princess. Now why don’t you pick out a movie while I shower real quick?” He wanders off to clean up, leaving you to sit with the cat.

You smile, and later, after you’ve fallen asleep on his lap while watching a Ghibli film, Jason will carry you to bed. When he’s sure you are both settled for the night, with the apartment locked up, phones charging on your nightstands, he’ll press a kiss to your temple, and repeat his words.

“Always. I’ll love you always.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd X fem!reader #worm writes #jaybird

169 notes · View notes

stolenorchids · 3 months ago

Text

WARNINGS - this drink may include the following: afab! reader, possessiveness, refusion of attention, Chuuya being a dick, choking, dirty talk, Dazai, penetrative sex, mentions of alcohol, reader is a part of the ADA, suicide mention if you squint (it's Dazai lol), not very nice words:(, Chuuya being a menace towards Dazai lol ("Dazai couldn't charm his way out of a paper bag")

ALC percentage - 3.6%

(3.6k words)

the dim light of the bar cast a warm glow over the polished mahogany countertops, the low hum of chatter blending with the occasional clink of glasses. Chuuya Nakahara was a sight to behold, as always - his tailored suit impeccable, his auburn hair catching the light like flame. he leaned casually against the bar, whiskey in hand, exchanging terse words with a colleague of his from the Port Mafia. you, however, sat at a small table in the corner, feeling increasingly invisible. it wasn’t that Chuuya ignored you outright - he had greeted you with a quick kiss when you arrived and introduced you to his associate, granting that he let out the part where you were an ADA member. but that had been hours ago, and you were left nursing your drink, his attention fixed elsewhere.

that’s when Dazai entered the room.

Dazai Osamu always carried an air of effortless mischief, his trench coat swaying as he strolled in like he owned the place. his sharp eyes scanned the room before landing on you, and a slow smirk curved his lips.

"ah, what a surprise," he drawled, sliding into the seat opposite you without waiting for an invitation. "I didn’t expect to find such enchanting company in a dreary hole like this. where’s Chuuya? slacking in his boyfriend duties again?"

your lips twitched, both at his audacity and the idea forming in your mind. Chuuya’s inattention had grated on you all evening, and Dazai’s sudden presence was…opportune. if anyone could provoke a reaction from Chuuya, it was him.

“oh, he’s around,” you replied breezily, leaning in just enough to give Dazai your full attention. “but he seems pretty busy. maybe I should find someone else to entertain me.”

Dazai chuckled, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “now, now, don’t tempt me like that. Chuuya might try to kill me. again.”

your fingers brushed lightly over the rim of your glass, and you tilted your head with a coy smile. “would it really be so bad if he did? isn’t that your whole thing?” Dazai’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “you wound me. am I just a tool for your petty schemes, my dear?”

before you could respond, the sound of a glass slamming onto the bar shattered your moment. you glanced up to see Chuuya’s gaze locked onto you both, his jaw tight and his whiskey abandoned. his strides toward your table were swift, his blue eyes blazing with something between annoyance and jealousy. Dazai, naturally, didn’t flinch under Chuuya’s heated glare. in fact, his smirk only grew wider, like a fox toying with a cornered prey. “ah, Chuuya,” he greeted, reclining lazily in his seat. “I was just keeping your lovely partner company. you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Dazai.” Chuuya’s voice was a low growl, the kind that usually preceded a broken nose or shattered kneecaps. his gaze flicked to you, narrowing. “what the hell are you doing?”

feigning innocence, you shrugged and took a sip of your drink. “what? you seemed pretty busy, so I figured I’d make my own fun. Dazai’s surprisingly good at conversation. charming, even.”

the vein in Chuuya’s temple visibly twitched. he stepped closer, his shadow looming over the table. “Dazai couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag.”

“now, that’s not fair,” Dazai interjected, placing a hand to his chest as though deeply wounded. “your partner seems to think I’m quite charming. isn’t that right?” he turned to you with a wink, his tone dripping with mischief.

you didn’t miss the way Chuuya’s fists clenched at his sides, and you couldn’t help the thrill that ran through you. this was the reaction you’d been waiting for. finally, his attention was entirely on you.

“well,” you said slowly, dragging the word out just enough to make Chuuya’s jaw tighten further. “he’s definitely been giving me more attention tonight than you have.”

Chuuya’s lips parted, his anger momentarily replaced by something resembling shock, but it didn’t last long. his eyes flashed with fire, and in an instant, he grabbed your wrist - not rough, but firm enough to make his point.

“alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone sharp. then, with a glare at Dazai, he added, “you. get lost.” Dazai tilted his head, the picture of mock innocence. “me? why, Chuuya, I was just—”

“get. lost.” Chuuya’s voice dropped an octave, a growl laced with venom, and even Dazai seemed to recognize he’d pushed enough buttons for one night. with a theatrical sigh, Dazai rose from his chair and straightened his coat. “fine, fine. but just remember, I’m always here if your partner decides you’re not worth the trouble.” he gave you one last cheeky grin before sauntering off, leaving you and Chuuya alone.

the silence between you and Chuuya was thick, the air around him practically crackling with tension. his grip on your wrist didn’t loosen - if anything, it tightened, his fingers firm and unyielding as they curled around your skin. it wasn’t painful, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice was low, almost a growl, his blue eyes sharp as they pinned you in place. you raised an eyebrow, refusing to let his intensity intimidate you. “what do you think I’m doing?”

“don’t play games with me,” he snapped, leaning in closer. the scent of his cologne and whiskey hit you, intoxicating in its familiarity. “you’re trying to piss me off, and congratulations - it worked.”

a sly smile tugged at your lips, and you tilted your head. “is it so wrong to want my boyfriend to notice me?”

“notice you?” he scoffed, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “you think I haven’t been paying attention? that I haven’t been thinking about you?”

“have you?” you countered, holding his gaze. “because it hasn’t felt like it.”

Chuuya’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. for a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, his hand moved, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. the gesture was fleeting, almost tender, before his grip tightened again.

“don’t push me,” he said, his voice rough. “you know I can’t stand seeing you with him.” the corners of your lips curved upward, your voice soft but teasing. “then maybe you should’ve stepped in sooner.”

his eyes flashed, and his free hand slammed down on the table, the sound drawing a few curious glances from nearby patrons. Chuuya didn’t care. his entire focus was on you, the weight of his presence pressing down like a storm about to break. “you think this is funny?” he asked, his tone laced with irritation. you met his fire with your own, leaning forward until your faces were mere inches apart. “I think it’s about time you started acting like you care, Chuuya.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you electric. his grip didn’t falter, his body taut with restraint. then his lips parted, his words low and full of promise.

“you’re going to regret that,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “but not here.”

without waiting for a response, he pulled you to your feet, his grip on your wrist never faltering. his movements were deliberate, each step radiating purpose as he led you toward the door. the air between you was thick with anticipation, unspoken words and unresolved emotions crackling like sparks in the dark.

as the two of you stepped outside, the chill of the night air did nothing to cool the heat building between you. Chuuya glanced back at you, his gaze smoldering, and for a brief moment, he hesitated, as though giving you a chance to pull back.

but you didn’t.

╰──╮ ╭──╯

Chuuya closed the front door behind you as you walked into your shared home, the familiar smell briefly reaching your senses before you were roughly shoved against the white wall.

“you think it’s fucking funny to go around flirting with other guys? especially Dazai?” Chuuya questioned you, and although the true answer to that would be no, you didn’t enjoy flirting with his rival, you couldn’t say that. not when you had finally got the reaction you’d wanted out of him. you wanted to test the waters: see just how far you could take this little game of yours, so instead of answering him you just smirked, letting out a small giggle before feigning innocence once more.

“I don’t know what you mean Chuuya…”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed, his hand slamming against the wall next to your head, the force rattling a nearby picture frame. “don’t play dumb with me,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, sending a thrill straight through your core. “you know exactly what I mean.”

you tilted your head, the smirk on your lips growing as you leaned back against the wall, feigning indifference. “I was just being polite,” you replied smoothly. “Dazai’s the one who wouldn’t leave me alone. what was I supposed to do?”

“polite?” Chuuya’s laugh was humorless, his teeth gritted. his other hand came up to grip your chin, tilting your face so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “that wasn’t being polite. that was you trying to piss me off. and guess what? It worked.”

you bit your lip, doing your best to suppress the grin threatening to spill over. this was exactly what you wanted - Chuuya’s full, undivided attention, his usual cool composure cracking as he wrestled with the jealousy you’d stirred in him.

“I don’t know,” you teased, your voice light despite the intensity of his gaze. “you seemed pretty busy tonight. what else was I supposed to do? just sit there?”

“yes!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “you’re my partner. you’re not supposed to-” he stopped himself, his fingers tightening slightly on your jaw as he leaned in closer. his breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, his anger wavered, replaced by something darker, more possessive. “you’re mine.”

your pulse quickened at the raw emotion in his voice, and the smirk slipped from your lips, replaced by something softer. but before you could respond, Chuuya’s lips crashed against yours, cutting off whatever clever remark you’d been about to make. the kiss was rough, heated, and full of the frustration he’d been holding back all evening. his hands slid down, one gripping your waist while the other pressed against the wall beside you, keeping you pinned in place. you gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged. “do you have any idea what you do to me?” he murmured, his voice low and strained, as if holding himself back was taking every ounce of control he had. you couldn’t help the small smile that played on your lips. “I might have an idea,” you whispered, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. his heart was pounding beneath your fingertips, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

for a moment, the tension hung in the air, heavy and electric, neither of you willing to break it. then Chuuya stepped back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he reached up to loosen his tie, the gesture slow and deliberate. “you’ve been testing me all night,” he said, his voice a low growl. “now, it’s my turn.”

╰──╮ ╭──╯

Chuuya’s fingers tugged the knot of his tie loose, the silky fabric slipping through his fingers before he tossed it aside. his eyes never left yours, the stormy blue depths darkened with emotion - frustration, desire, and something else you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your chest.

“you like pushing my buttons, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He took a step closer, closing the distance again, his hands finding your hips and pulling you flush against him. you let out a soft gasp at the sudden contact, your hands instinctively gripping his shirt, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric. “maybe,” you admitted, your voice breathless. “you make it so easy.” Chuuya’s lips twitched into a smirk, though the heat in his gaze didn’t waver. “you’re gonna regret saying that.”

at his words, his hands slid down, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your thighs. the way his fingers dug in - not rough, but firm, as if claiming you - left no doubt about the depth of his feelings. his lips brushed against your jawline, a teasing, fleeting touch that left you aching for more.

“tell me something,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a velvet whisper. “was it worth it? watching me lose my mind over you?” your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. “completely.”

Chuuya pulled back just enough to look at you, his smirk softening into something almost dangerous in its intensity. “then let me show you what happens when you push me too far.”

his lips found yours again, but this time the kiss was slower, deeper, the kind that made the rest of the world fade away. his hands roamed, his touch searing against your skin even through the layers of clothing. he didn’t rush, taking his time to savor every sound you made, every little reaction as if committing them to memory.

your back hit the wall again as his body pressed against yours, his warmth enveloping you completely. his lips trailed down to your neck, lingering on the sensitive spots he knew would drive you wild. every brush of his teeth, every press of his lips sent sparks racing through you, setting your nerves alight.

“still think it’s funny?” he asked, his voice teasing but laced with a raw edge that made your knees weak. you opened your mouth to reply, but the words dissolved into a soft moan as his hands found the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin. his touch was maddeningly light, like he was daring you to beg for more.

the air between you was thick with unspoken promises, your senses overwhelmed by the way he touched you, the way his voice curled around your name like it belonged to him alone.

Chuuya’s hands lingered beneath your shirt, his fingertips tracing featherlight patterns against your skin. each touch sent a wave of heat coursing through you, your breath hitching as his lips returned to the curve of your neck. this time, his kisses were less restrained, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.

“tell me,” he murmured against your neck, his voice dripping with command, “did he touch you like this? did you let him?” your breath caught, and your hands instinctively gripped the front of his shirt tighter. “Chuuya, you know I didn’t-”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice lower now, rough with barely contained emotion. “but I need to hear it.”

you tilted your head, meeting his intense gaze. his eyes burned with something raw and unfiltered, a mix of jealousy, frustration, and desire all tangled together. it wasn’t just possessiveness - it was the depth of his feelings laid bare, a silent confession that no one else could touch what belonged to him.

“I didn’t,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “you’re the only one I want.” the words seemed to break something in him. his grip on you tightened, his lips crashing into yours with a renewed fervor, as though trying to pour all his emotions into the kiss. it wasn’t just passion - it was need, urgent and unrelenting. his hands slipped under your shirt completely now, pushing it up as his palms roamed your sides, your stomach, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. you lifted your arms, letting him pull the fabric over your head and toss it to the floor without a second thought.

Chuuya took a step back, his gaze raking over you with a hunger that made your cheeks flush. “you drive me insane, you know that?” he said, his voice softer now, though the intensity behind it hadn’t diminished. you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “good,” you replied, your voice teasing. “i’d hate to make things easy for you.”

his laugh was low and breathy, but it quickly gave way to a sharp inhale as your hands brushed against his skin. you took your time, undoing each button with deliberate slowness, watching as his composure began to crack under your touch. when his shirt finally joined yours on the floor, Chuuya’s hands found your waist again, pulling you close until your bare skin pressed against his. the warmth of his body was intoxicating, his heartbeat thundering against yours as his lips found your collarbone, his hands sliding lower, teasing at the waistband of your skirt.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice hoarse, though the look in his eyes made it clear he already knew your answer.

you met his gaze, your voice steady despite the rapid pounding of your heart. “don’t you dare.”

╰──╮ ╭──╯

everything after that was a blur, the only thing still clear in your mind was the way Chuuya currently used his right hand to finger you, his left simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his pants, the clinking of his belt hitting the floor making you shudder further around his fingers in anticipation, as your head fell backwards toward the headboard of your shared bed.

“look at you…” Chuuya started, his gaze fixated on your blissed-out face as the left side of his mouth curved upwards into a side grin. “so desperate for more…” he cooed at you mockingly, as he slowly leaned down toward you, his fingers leaving your pussy as you let out a whine in disagreement, looking up to him before you eyes widened at the sight before you: Chuuya had taken his fingers coated in your slick into his mouth, sucking on them and letting out a soft groan in ecstasy at the taste.

“god baby…” he whispered out to you before prodding himself at your entrance.

you moan out softly as you feel Chuuya’s length slowly making its way into your tight pussy.

“fuuuuckkk... so tight for me.. hah.” his eyes squeezed shut, his hands making their way down to grip your hips, his dick sinking into you inch by inch.

you shift, a loud, almost pornographic moan leaving your throat as you arch your back further into him, his thick dick bullying its way into you before he finally bottomed out, small cries of pleasure leaving you.

“Chuuyyaaa..” you whine, attempting to raise your hips into him for more friction, however, your attempt quickly stopped as he held onto your waist tighter, his grip so tight it might just bruise by tomorrow.

you’re practically shaking at this point, the pleasure of Chuuya’s cock throbbing inside you almost too much to bear. the fullness of him inside you is slightly uncomfortable, you note to yourself, but mostly arousing as you feel yourself stretched obscenely around him to accommodate all his size again, and again, and again.

“such a filthy little slut. flirting with that idiot Dazai right in front of me, hmm?”

“fu-ck.. chu’..!” you don’t know what to say as Chuuya’s pace never falters, your boobs jiggling and whole body moving along his thrusts, as loud moan after loud moan gets ripped out of you.

“fuck… you’re mine. is that clear to you? or do I need to remind you again? maybe in front of that idiot this time, huh? you’d like that wouldn’t you? having Dazai see the mess I make of you..” Chuuya spits out through loud grunts.

your eyes roll back at his words. even though you’d never admit it to his face, you love the way he talks so obscenely to you when he’s jealous. You’d never actually do something with Dazai, but for now, Chuuya could believe that.

“fuc—kk…” you softly moan out at his words, not answering him to upset him further.

Chuuya seems to have gotten angry at your loss for words, his eyes only half-open and small grunts coming out of his mouth as he continues to move his body against yours, jaw clenching. “fuck.. such a slut. as if i’d ever let you do anything with that idiot..” he exclaimed, his grip on your waist never easing.

as if eager to prove his point further he lifted his left hand from your waist to grab around your throat, not quite hard enough to not let you breathe, but hard enough to the point where you had to actually try to get in gasps of air, your face turning a crimson-red at the contact and your walls clenching harder around Chuuya’s dick.

“fuck..! shit, baby..!” Chuuya’s voice comes out desperate as his right hand leaves your waist to instead form small circles on your clit, desperate to feel you cum around him. as he does so, your walls clamp impossibly harder around him, and you reach your hands behind your head to grab at the sheets.

at the pure sight of you Chuuya’s hips begin stuttering as he fills you full with spurts of lukewarm, white cum, his body shuddering at the feeling, and as you lay there you can’t do anything but whine and moan out his name, almost like a chant.

“ngh… ‘chu- ‘chu, fuck… Chuuya~!”

you’re cumming soon after, your mind momentarily going numb as your high washes over you, your toes curling and your back arching off the bed and into Chuuya’s chest as small whines leave your body.

it was going to be hard to explain to the ADA tomorrow why you had such red marks around your throat. well... maybe Dazai could guess.

97 notes · View notes

queenmarytudor · 2 months ago

Photo

BECOMING ELIZABETH REWRITE

I’m so sorry this is like 2 years late lol.

After my re-imagining of The Spanish Princess Series 2 (as well as a proposed series revolving around Mary I’s adolescence) here I am, constructing a more historically accurate version of the Starz series Becoming Elizabeth.

I mixed two rebellions (Kett’s and Prayer Book) together and shortened the episode count, because we did not need six episodes of Thomas Seymour!

This is Elizabeth learning from a variety of mentors to actually... become Elizabeth, Gloriana!

Episode One - Replete With Sorrow

In the middle of the night, Lady Elizabeth Tudor and Prince Edward are woken from their sleep and told their father, King Henry VIII is dead. They embrace weeping as the men bow before their now king, Edward VI.

The pair go to court, which is clad in black for mourning. There, they have an emotional reunion with their step mother Katherine Parr and older sister Mary.

The three siblings dine together, reminiscing fondly over their father. Edward asks Mary to attend his coronation; she politely refuses, saying she needs to go and oversee the new lands their father’s will granted her. Talk turns to marriages; there is already rumours that Edward is to marry Mary Queen of Scots as their father’s wishes made clear.

A proud Elizabeth attends Edward’s coronation. At the banquet afterwards, Katherine introduces the newly crowned Edward to Archbishop Thomas Cranmer. They discuss expanding his father’s religious policies. Overhearing, and jealous of the dowager queen’s influence, the Duchess of Somerset Anne Seymour begins to argue with Katherine over precedence and jewels. Elizabeth watches on, a careful observer on how to react. Thomas Seymour interrupts, erasing the tension and making the irate King laugh. Katherine casts him a grateful glance. Elizabeth is charmed/smitten by him.

As the Duchess leaves, Katherine says Elizabeth must pack her things as she is going to live with her away from court if she finds that agreeable. Elizabeth is ecstatic, as is Katherine.

Weeks pass; it is spring.

Elizabeth sits with her cousin Lady Jane Grey, being tutored by her schoolmaster William Grindal. The two constantly try to beat the other in languages, etc. There is a fierce rivalry between the pair.

Elizabeth walks with her governess Kat Ashley and lady Isabella Markham in the gardens, still clad in black. She complains about Lady Jane Grey, who always tries to beat her in lessons. Her father would not have stood for it. It is clear she misses him.

Katherine calls the trio inside, where she is standing with Thomas Seymour. She reveals she secretly married him a few weeks ago, and he is now to live with them.

At dinner, the pair quiz Elizabeth on what she has learned. They’re impressed; Thomas compliments her and Elizabeth flushes, pleased at his attention. Katherine leaves, claiming she feels sick.

Thomas talks of grief, saying he knows it well after the death of his sister, her brother Edward’s mother. He says her father wouldn’t want her to grieve him forever, it has been several months now and she shouldn’t feel guilty to be happy again. He reveals he saw her in the garden earlier looking upset; she tells him what had happened. He assures her she is better than Jane in every way. Elizabeth smiles and bids him good night.

In bed, she sighs dreamily to Isabella and Kat about Thomas Seymour; did they know he had commanded her father’s army? They warn her to be careful but she ignores them.

The next morning, she is woken by Thomas and Katherine tickling her. Winking, Thomas offer his hand. Flushed, Elizabeth smiles and takes it hand eagerly.

Episode Two - Noli me Tangere

Katherine and Elizabeth watch as Thomas storms about. He is annoyed over his brother being made Lord Protector of the King and he has nothing. Elizabeth approaches him and asks if he is okay. He says can’t Elizabeth ask her brother for help for him? Elizabeth is uncomfortable. She doesn’t have that much power. He begs jokingly on his knees, kissing her hand then her cheeks, and she laughs giddily, the tension disappeared as they talk.

Katherine and Grindal tell her and Jane Grey that Edward is releasing a new prayer book in English, not Latin with the help of Archbishop Cranmer. Katherine supports it. As a result, Grindal gives Elizabeth an updated list of work.

Elizabeth is involved in her studies, avidly reading. She rebuffs Thomas’s playful advances, saying she is busy with work her tutor Grindal gave her. Thomas is peeved.

Later, Katherine angrily asks Elizabeth if is true what Thomas told her - that she had been embracing her tutor William Grindal. Confused, Elizabeth bursts into tears and refuses it. Katherine apologises and comforts her, blaming her confusion on her current state - she is pregnant.

The next morning Thomas comes alone to Elizabeth’s bedchamber as Katherine feels ill. Elizabeth fears she is avoiding her because of what happened with Grindal. She wonders who would make something like that up. Thomas says someone jealous of such a beautiful and smart girl, hinting at Jane Grey. Elizabeth is incensed. Thomas diverts her with more tickling, then suddenly slaps her behind. She jumps, startled and laughs uncomfortably. Kat orders him away while Elizabeth is dressed. She hears Katherine and Thomas fighting in a room nearby over him going to Elizabeth’s room without her. Miserable, Elizabeth puts her mourning dress back on.

While walking with Isabella and Kat in the gardens, Thomas appears and says he told her she looked better in colours, not black. He chases her around, with Katherine suddenly appearing and joining in. She holds her down as Thomas slashes Elizabeth’s mourning dress to pieces. The pair of them are laughing but Elizabeth is close to tears.

Later that night an upset Elizabet talks to Kat, who says tomorrow morning she won’t let Thomas near her into her bedchamber. He protests his way in anyway, shaking the hangings as if he is to get in. She pulls her bedcovers up and Kat tells him to go away in shame as he tries to kiss her. He leaves laughing, saying he will get her when he returns from court.

An ill and extremely pregnant Katherine writes to her husband, and asks Elizabeth to arrange a messenger to get the letter to him. On the outside of the letter, in Latin, Elizabeth writes “Thou, touch me not”, then crosses it out and writes instead, “Let him not touch me”.

She devotes herself to her studies, and when Thomas finds her on his return, she is frightened. He doesn’t see her obvious distress, tossing her book over his shoulder, stroking her cheek and begging him to forgive her for the dress incident. She nods, and he pulls her into a tight hug Thomas Parry witnesses.

She is abruptly dismissed by a cold Katherine to Anthony Denny and his wife, Kat’s sister. Elizabeth is upset, and her stepmother softens a little, assuring her this is the best for all three of them.

Episode Three - Hope Prevailing

At the Denny’s, Elizabeth is devastated to hear of Katherine’s death in childbirth.

Her new tutor, a French preacher Jean Varon, instructs her in the new doctrine and the French tongue. They talk about the new prayer book; Elizabeth thinks it is a good thing but Varon says there are rumours the common people will revolt.

Elizabeth returns to her old childhood home of Hatfield House, and has a moment of peace with her ladies and Kat.

They are interrupted by Thomas Seymour visiting. He seems unhinged. Thomas proposes marriage, but Elizabeth is horrified and refuses. Kat thinks he would make a good match considering his status, but she stands firm. She tells her lady Isabella she will never marry, after seeing what happened to her father and mother.

While walking in her estates Elizabeth witnesses angry peasants tearing down fences. Her preacher Varon tells Elizabeth the people have rebelled against enclosure laws, but chiefly the new prayer book.

Elizabeth learns Thomas has tried to kidnap Edward VI and shot and killed the king’s dog during the kidnapping attempt.

As a result, Thomas is arrested for plotting to kill the King, his brother and King’s Protector, the Duke of Somerset, and marry Elizabeth.

Privy Councillors arrive in Hatfield to question Elizabeth, while Kat is taken to the Tower.

Elizabeth is interrogated. She denies any knowledge of Thomas Seymour’s actions, saying her reputation is being defamed and she wants a proclamation put out denying rumours of any relationship with him.

She gets her wish, and writes to Edward Seymour to say thank you for the proclamation as his brother Thomas is executed. She is informed the rebellion has been ruthlessly supressed by John Dudley.

With the threat of an uprising and Thomas Seymour both disappeared, Elizabeth gets an invitation to visit the King for Christmas. She is anxious to please him and declares she will wear white for her innocence from this moment on.

Episode Four - Christmas

1550 bottle episode focusing on the awkward Christmas dinner with the 3 Tudor siblings!

Upon her arrival at court, garbed in angelic white, Edward rewards Elizabeth with Kat being returned to her. She embraces her governess lovingly. Elizabeth is invited by Mary’s lady, Susan Clarencius, to play cards. She accepts.

Mary questions Elizabeth, unsure whether to believe the claims issued of her innocence. Mary has also heard about an updated prayer book being released that Edward himself has had a hand in. Elizabeth reiterates her innocence. After, Mary tells Susan privately that Elizabeth is so like her Mother...

Edward is preparing for the feast. John Dudley informs him that Edward Seymour does not have the nerve to tell him, but he will. He has broken the king’s betrothal to Mary, Queen of Scots, who is now engaged to the French Dauphin. Edward is furious.

The table is set for a magnificent feast. The trio begin amicably enough, reminiscing on their shared childhoods with their father. However, soon the tension overwhelms them, with all their emotions coming out. Mary begs Edward not to release his new prayer book, but he replies he is not a child, he is King. Elizabeth tries desperately to keep the peace between the oldest and youngest Tudor siblings. The night ends with Mary leaving, ignoring Edward. King Edward orders her servants to be arrested, and has a furious monologue to Edward Seymour. His brother had taken advantage of his sister and stepmother, and Edward himself had taken him to Windsor - a prison! John Dudley was the one who had the nerve to tell him he has ended up breaking his betrothal to Mary Queen of Scots, who is now engaged to the Dauphin of France. He will look an idiot as her mother Marie of Guise is visiting his court soon! He has obvious and ominous shades of Henry VIII in his behaviour.

In the aftermath of the evening, Edward Seymour is arrested and beheaded. Edward, backed by the Privy Council, announces John Dudley is to be the Duke of Northumberland and new Protector of the Realm due to the loyalty he had shown him in suppressing the rebels, promoting the new religion and aiding the King.

Elizabeth congratulates her friend and John Dudley’s son, Robert, who has arrived at court to celebrate the advancement. He is full of joy; he has married a lady, Amy Robsart.

King Edward, overhearing, is happy for them. He thinks it is time for Elizabeth to marry.

Episode Five - Sister Temperance

Several months have passed. Elizabeth and Edward are watching bear baiting. Whilst the beasts fight, Edward goes through a list of various potential suitors for his Sweet Sister Temperance. Elizabeth is non-committal.

She is saved from further answer by their sister Mary, interrupting the event. She and the large company of people with her all wear prayer beads as Mary begs for her servants to be released. Both Edward and Mary end up crying, and he eventually promises to release them. She leaves, begging him not to think badly of her.

Marie of Guise is to visit court soon, and in the absence of a queen Edward nominates Elizabeth to host her. Jane Grey comes to court as part of the festivities and her and Elizabeth’s old rivalry flares again.

Robert Dudley finds it amusing, especially when the King falls into fervent conversation with their cousin on Protestantism.

Edward is taking more of a leading role in state, having talks with Archbishop Cranmer about the new and improved prayer book. Some wonder if the Lady Mary and others of the old faith will rebel again; John Dudley says he’s stopped one uprising, he’ll finish another if it happens.

Marie of Guise visits court. Elizabeth talks with her about the young Scottish queen Mary, her daughter, and her marriage, and the challenges of ruling a country.

During the festivities, Elizabeth and Robert Dudley are having fun together. Robert says his wife doesn’t like court, and reveals his father is trying to convince King Edward to marry Jane Grey. He laughs, guessing from her sour attitude Elizabeth would not accept her as a queen.

Episode Six - Troublesome Waves

John Dudley wishes to exchange one of his houses for hers, and Elizabeth is not pleased. She reluctantly agrees when Robert visits, taken by his charm. He says she need not fear, for her brother Guildford is marrying Jane Grey now, not the king, who is ill.

Elizabeth sets off to see her brother, but is turned away by his guards.

She is extremely worried about her brother, turning to prayer.

Elizabeth is asked to relinquish her claim to the crown via a grant of more land and money. She refuses.

She talks with Kat and Isabella. Because of Mary’s obvious religious differences, she has come to believe she will become queen upon Edward’s death.

News breaks of Edward’s death/Jane’s accession/Mary’s rebellion. Elizabeth is upset, grieving, incensed with betrayal that her brother has looked her over. She is urged to act by her ladies. John Dudley and Mary both send messengers; she listens to both and plays them against each other then feigns illness, arming her guards for protection as she waits for the outcome.

Mary proves victorious and Elizabeth makes orders to go to London.

Elizabeth greets Mary, assuring her she was preparing her servants to bring them to help her cause. She watches statues and crosses be put back up with foreboding.

Jane Grey and Guildford Dudley are sentenced to die, while John Dudley is executed. Elizabeth comforts Robert.

At night, she sneaks out in secret to see her old tutor Jean Varon. He wants to leave England, but she orders him to remain, telling him not to leave or abscond, but for he and other followers of Protestantism to show themselves in the streets. They need to fight back against what Mary plans! Varon nods, and tells her now Edward is dead they look to her for guidance and hope for the nation.

Elizabeth attends Mary coronation. The new French ambassador, Antoine Noailles, introduces himself. He says Marie of Guise spoke highly of her, and that the crown would look good on her head... Elizabeth gazes at it thoughtfully, and merely smiles in response.

#you can probably tell I ran out of steam after the first two episodes lol but I really wanted to show an accurate portrayal of her abuse ins #*instead of the romanticised shit we got #becoming elizabeth #elizabeth i #elizabeth tudor

59 notes · View notes

makeste · 1 year ago

Text

Plus One For All

so guys. can we talk about how there’s somebody chilling out inside of Katsuki’s mind who’s not supposed to be there.

hello there Mister All Might Vestige sir. you should not exist, just FYI. you’re not some Nighteye-type plot hallucination. because if you were, you would not be appearing here as Cloud Might, a version of yourself whom Katsuki has never met and has no frame of reference for. ergo he did not imagine you. ergo you are, in fact, real.

which means Katsuki has One For All.

because that’s the only way he could have a Vestige -- which is indisputably what this is -- inside of him. he has OFA. so. where did he get it. how does he have it. and why is it only making its presence known now.

let’s discuss.

okay so I’m going to try and lay this all out as clearly as possible while also attempting to be as succinct as I can. but knowing me, I’m probably going to wind up sacrificing the latter in pursuit of the former. I’ll do my best though. here goes.

1. Heroes Rising is canon.

which is a fact we’ve recently been reminded of not once, but twice -- first with the appearance of Katsuma and Mahoro in chapter 405, and then in chapter 406 with the “Bakugou no Kacchan” callback. the timing of this almost certainly isn’t coincidental. Horikoshi wants this to be fresh in our minds.

mind you, it is extremely unusual for movies, even technically!canon ones, to actually be relevant to the plot. but BnHA may be one of the few exceptions. we’ve already seen movie 1 impact the series both with Star & Stripe’s backstory, and with Deku’s new gauntlets. so there’s precedent, and it’s something I am paying very close attention to.

2. Deku giving OFA to Bakugou is canon.

just in case anyone here hasn’t yet seen or been spoiled for Heroes Rising, that is in fact what happens in that film! so yeah, that certainly seems like an extremely relevant detail right about now.

3. we never found out why and how Deku got OFA back at the end of the movie.

okay so I was looking for a clip to link before we discuss this next part, but I unfortunately couldn’t find one that hadn’t been edited to avoid copyright issues, so you’ll just have to make do with this.

skip ahead to about 7:10 for the relevant part. for the purposes of this theory, we’re just going to ignore everything All Might says here, because tbh he has no fucking clue what’s actually going on and is just guessing wildly lol. however, I do want you to take note of one thing which will be important later. and that’s the fact that, when OFA “returns” to Deku’s body, it’s only his body which starts glowing, and notably not Kacchan’s. the latter just keeps lying there unglowingly. nothing to indicate any kind of transfer is actually happening between him and Deku, in other words.

moving on.

4. OFA and AFO are probably the same quirk.

as summarized here and here. which is relevant because if they are the same quirk, or close to it, then OFA can most likely do anything AFO can do. so file that away for later.

5. AFO was able to split his quirk and give it to Tomura while still keeping a piece of it for himself.

what’s more, he was able to do the same with Garaki/Ujiko’s quirk, and presumably other quirks as well. while it’s possible that this quirk duplication has nothing to do with AFO and is simply something Garaki was able to figure out using ~*~Science~*~, I think it’s more likely that the two of them used AFO’s quirk in some way to accomplish this feat. particularly since Tomura not only received AFO, but a bunch of its stored up quirkdata as well, such as the information stored in Ragdoll’s stolen Search quirk.

6. OFA responds to Deku’s feelings and desires.

or at least this is the case according to Banjou in chapter 213. recall this interesting conversation on how Deku first activated Blackwhip.

he was thinking that he wanted to capture Monoma, and so OFA obediently activated his “capture Monoma” quirk. despite him being unaware he even had said quirk. it responded to his need, even though he wasn’t consciously trying to activate anything.

now then, let’s revisit that scene in Heroes Rising one more time.

7. during the climax of Heroes Rising, Deku was NOT thinking, “I need to give OFA to Kacchan.”

here’s the scene one more time for reference. this time you’re gonna want to skip to about 3:57.

here’s where we are going to get extremely technical, because this scene right here is the key to everything. Deku’s lines in this scene are, and I quote: “a way we can protect [everyone]... there’s just one way...!” but he very notably does not specify exactly what that “one way” is.

until we get to this scene a minute or so later, which spells it out for us very clearly.

two One For Alls. as in, “with two One For Alls, we could win this battle and save everyone.”

that’s what he was thinking at the moment of the “transfer.” NOT, “give OFA to Kacchan.” but, “we need two One For Alls.”

which, I think, may have made all the difference.

8. OFA created a copy of itself to share with Kacchan, so that both of them could have OFA and use the two OFAs to defeat Nine.

let’s recap. OFA is AFO. AFO can clone itself. so it stands to reason that OFA can presumably clone itself as well. and that’s exactly what Deku wanted to do. make a second One For All.

he didn’t know that he could do that. but as previously established in the Blackwhip incident, OFA is more than capable of making its own executive decisions in key moments just like this in order to help him out.

which would mean that what we saw at the end of Heroes Rising was not OFA being transferred from Bakugou back over to Deku. it was actually just Deku’s OFA briefly self-activating (possibly in response to his delirious apology to All Might -- kind of a “no worries bro, you’ve still got your quirk actually, so go back to sleep and stop stressing over it” type of thing). and Kacchan’s OFA doing... absolutely nothing. it didn’t actually transfer back into Deku. it didn’t actually go anywhere.

let me repeat that: it didn’t actually go anywhere.

in other words, Kacchan still has OFA. and has had it ever since Heroes Rising. he just didn’t realize it. and neither did anybody else.

9. Kacchan’s OFA went dormant once Nine was defeated.

okay, so. remember all of this exposition from chapter 304?

basically, if someone who already has a quirk receives OFA, using it will slowly destroy their body until it kills them. the Vestiges learned this from All Might while he was researching the past generations of OFA in chapter 241, incidentally. Heroes Rising takes place right around this same time (immediately following MVA if I recall). so by the time the film’s climax rolled around, the Vestiges would have known that giving OFA to Kacchan could have devastating consequences down the line if they did not take action immediately after the fight.

so they did.

once Nine was defeated, the Vestiges shut the whole thing down. the crisis was averted, and they no longer had need of a second OFA. they have this boy who is way too similar to Deku in terms of his willingness to put himself in harm’s way in order to achieve his goals. and they absolutely do not want any harm befalling this boy. more on that momentarily.

so they go dark. and they even seal his memory so that he’s no longer aware of even having the quirk. they are essentially in sleep mode. and if circumstances hadn’t eventually become desperate enough to force their hand, they might have remained inactive for the rest of Katsuki’s life.

now, you might be wondering to yourself, “why is OFA willing to go to such unusual lengths in order to protect Katsuki?” and well, the answer to that is pretty simple.

10. Kacchan does not have the same version of OFA as Deku.

Deku is ninth gen. Katsuki, however, is tenth gen. which means that his version of OFA has one additional Vestige. a Vestige whose presence immediately explains why OFA is so goddamn determined to protect him at all costs.

:’)

long story short, while Deku’s version of OFA has proven itself all too willing to enable him in his increasingly suicidal mission, Katsuki’s version of OFA is very much a different story, on account of it being under the management of what I’m guessing is the most willful Vestige ever to exist. and said management being just the slightest bit unhinged when it comes to Katsuki’s safety in particular. seriously, you can’t tell me this is not exactly how a Deku!Vestige would behave. “oh hell no. no OFA for you!! and no memories either, because you can’t be trusted, goddammit. we never should have done this. what the hell were we thinking. if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

so yeah. dormant.

right up until they literally couldn’t afford to be anymore.

11. OFA can self-activate in moments of crisis to protect its user.

Sports Festival. chapter 33. Deku vs. Shinsou.

aw yeah. it’s all coming together.

12. OFA reactivated itself in order to save Katsuki’s life.

I would now like to briefly draw your attention to this scene from chapter 405, in which Edgeshot explains how Katsuki was finally saved. please note my man is very clear that he did not restart Katsuki’s heart himself. he was basically just performing quirk CPR up until Katsuki’s own quirk returned him to life apropros of nothing.

“what brought you back... was the power you’ve honed.”

except... that should have been impossible. because Katsuki was dead. meaning he should not have been able to activate his quirk on his own, on account of the whole “being dead” thing.

however, if he by chance had a quirk with just enough of a mind of its own to activate in critical situations in order to help its user. situations like being forced under mind control. or, perhaps, being stabbed through the heart. well then. that would certainly go a long way towards explaining all of this.

and oh hey, when exactly was it that we saw this guy, again?

oh? it happened at the exact moment when his heart was stabbed through? you don’t say. well that certainly is interesting.

in summary:

Deku cloned his quirk in Heroes Rising and gave Kacchan a copy of OFA. owing to the hyperprotective Deku!Vestige inside Kacchan’s copy of OFA, it shut itself down once Nine was defeated, and all of Katsuki’s memories of having OFA were deliberately wiped, or sealed away. OFA itself remained inactive until TomurAFO stabbed Katsuki through the heart, at which point OFA was forced to reactivate itself to save his life. which it did, by forcibly restarting his heart.

that’s it. no idea how close to the money any of this is, but I think it would explain most of the lingering mysteries and questions about what exactly is going on with Katsuki. and I’ll throw in one last observation as well -- Katsuki has a nine in his name (BaKUgou), but not a ten. which I know sort of contradicts what I was saying earlier about him being the tenth gen, lol. but he both is and isn’t. if Deku split his quirk, Kacchan would in theory receive everything that’s currently in Deku’s quirk right now, and that includes Deku’s own power that he’s been adding to the mix. so he’d still have the Deku!Vestige. but he’s also still ninth gen, because he and Deku are sharing that distinction now. or at least I think the argument could be made at any rate.

so yeah. I’ve been obsessing over all of this for the past few days lol. what do you guys think?

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #one for all #bnha meta #bnha theory #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #it's also possible that I put way too much thought into this and in actuality katsuki is just using the OFA embers #or something else along those lines #we'll see lol #but in the meantime it's fun to speculate

339 notes · View notes

skiller0dani · 2 years ago

Text

The Morning After (NHoG Short) | Ominis Gaunt

M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Harry Potter Masterlist

smut | slytherin!reader requests info w.c | 2.3k summary | You have a soft morning with Ominis after the traumatic events of last night.

I wasn't ready to leave The Noble House of Gaunt (NHoG) behind yet lol this is just a short thing. I might write more blurbs but I really doubt it. This is the final piece I wanted to add, enjoy! I have some ideas for Sebastian & Ominis I'll be working on soon.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The first thing Ominis felt the next morning was pain. It was quickly succeeded by joy, happiness, and a flurry of butterflies swarming in his stomach. But the pain remained nonetheless. His entire upper torso was so sore it felt hard to breathe, and every muscle felt as though it had been put through a meat grinder. He nearly forgot what this pain felt like- nearly. He had endured it during his childhood more times than he could count. He had endured the horrible ache that lasted the week preceding the curse, and he was determined not to sully the wonderful night the two of you had by making you worry. Lest of all feel guilty for something that was never your fault in the first place.

The second thing Ominis felt when he woke up was you, snuggled against his bare chest. Your cheek was pressed against his collarbone, and his arm was curled around your torso. He felt your bare skin beneath his fingertips, felt all your soft dips and curves. You were enough to make him smile through the residual pain. Your hand was resting on his chest, and he felt so at ease to have you here in his arms first thing in the morning. He wished you two could wake up like this every morning. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and breathed in your scent, like lilacs growing in a strawberry field. Ominis had no idea what time it was, there were thankfully no classes today so there was no rush. The Great Hall was likely serving breakfast, and he wanted to make sure you ate something.

He carefully sat up, smiling when he hears you whine softly, your hands reaching for him to protest him standing. He reaches for his clothes, which is a bit of a task as they got strewn about the Undercroft the night before. He groans softly as a sharp pain runs down his back, unfortunately the sound stirs you awake.

"Ominis? Are you okay?" You mumble, your voice still thick with sleep. He gave you the best 'I feel fine and not like every inch of my body is bruised' smile he could muster.

"Of course my love, just going to get you breakfast." He says sweetly, and you smile widely. You pull yourself to sit up in bed, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you pull the blankets around your naked body. You eye him suspiciously as you watch him slowly put on his clothes, wincing when he has to lift his arms or bend over. You swing your feet over the side of the bed and make an attempt to stand, which doesn't go well due to the wobble in your legs and the deep ache from between them.

"-shit." You curse, stumbling against the bedframe. Ominis is quick to reach in your direction, his arms encircling your body once he locates you. You lean against him, nuzzling your nose against his like you always do and you try to ignore the worry on his face.

"Are you alright, my heart? Did I hurt you last night?" He frets, helping you sit back on the bed. His hands smooth up your bare thighs before one reaches up to gently brush through your hair. You lean up to kiss him, its short and sweet but it stops him from nervously rambling.

"No darling you didn't. I just feel a little sore is all." You explain, and he cradles the back of your head as he presses his lips against your forehead. The gesture is sweet and romantic and it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

"Let me get you something to eat, you stay here and don't you even think of putting any clothes on." Ominis teases, and your cheeks color. You lean back against the headboard, pulling the blankets and enveloping your body in warmth. Ominis pulls out his wand and smiles, heading towards the entrance to the Undercroft.

"I love you!" You call after him, and it makes him smile.

"I love you more, be back soon sweetheart." He calls back, hearing your beautiful laughter before the gate closes behind him.

Normally Sebastian sat with either you or Ominis at breakfast, but seeing as neither of you are here he had no choice but to sit with Imelda. She would make much better company if she didn't ask so many personal questions.

"You sure you don't have a thing for Y/N?"

"Positive."

"Because I thought at first that you might, especially during 5th Year."

"We're just friends Imelda, she's definitely in love with Ominis." Sebastian sighs, trying his hardest to tune her out.

"But if she wasn't in love with Ominis..."

"I still wouldn't have a thing for her. Can you stop please?" He asks, his tone getting snippy. Imelda grinned, resting her chin in her palm. She picked at her oatmeal, with you gone she felt nearly as bored as Sebastian. Which is why she kept pestering the poor boy with questions she already knew the answers to. She knew he didn't like you, of course she did. She was only asking to irritate him.

"Why? Is this a sore subject?" Imelda teased, laughing behind her palm when Sebastian throws her a glare.

"Like when she beat all your fastest times? Shall we talk about that instead?" Sebastian fired back, playful grin on his face.

"Okay, not funny Sallow."

"Why? Is this a sore subject?" Sebastian says casually, but there's still a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I swear if you-"

"Now that is unbecoming behavior at the table, Imelda." Ominis scolds, feeling as Imelda shakes the entire table trying to punch Sebastian.

"Ominis!" Sebastian says happily, smiling up at him. Ominis doesn't sit, he smooths out a bandana he brought with him on the table. With a wave of his wand, tarts, biscuits, and some fruit all float neatly into the bandana. He reaches down to tie the top, and lifts his neat little package before turning.

"Woah hold on, where are you going?" Sebastian asks, scrambling to catch Ominis before he walks away.

"Nowhere." Ominis says dismissively, Sebastian eyes the food in Ominis's hands suspiciously- and the fact that you're nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Y/N?"

"Nowhere." Ominis says his cheeks steadily flushing, and Sebastian smiles wickedly. He's beginning to figure out what's going on here.

"Ominis you sly dog!" He laughs, and Ominis huffs in annoyance. Though his ears have begun to turn red.

"Poor thing can't walk can she? Ominis I never knew you had it in you..." Sebastian continued his teasing and the only reason Ominis hasn't slapped him is because it's only Sebastian. If some other guy were to speak of you in that way, he'd be on his way to Nurse Blainey by now. Sebastian is harmless, Ominis knows he doesn't mean any disrespect, and won't tell anybody.

"Though I suppose it wasn't you that had anything in-"

"Sebastian." Ominis's voice was low, a gentle warning that Sebastian is about to push the teasing too far. Sebastian raises his hands in surrender with a chuckle, following Ominis to the Undercroft. Once they reach it, Ominis pauses.

"You can't come in."

"Why not?" Sebastian is playfully smiling, though he knows Ominis can't see that.

"Because Y/N is indecent." Ominis states firmly, sure to block the entrance to the Undercroft with his body.

"Oh is she? Prove it." The teasing tone hasn't wavered, Sebastian is likely going to be teasing Ominis about this for weeks. Ominis reaches towards Sebastian's direction and punches him, not caring where he hits. His fist lands square in the middle of Sebastian's chest, pushing him backwards lightly.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs, and Ominis has nothing but an irritated look in his face. Ominis turns back to the Undercroft with a huff, though he doesn't move to open the entrance.

"Go away." He says, and Sebastian laughs again before Ominis can hear his footsteps on the marble flooring.

Wait.

"Go!" Ominis snaps, and he hears Sebastian laugh from behind him again.

"How on Earth do you know when I'm faking?" He says, actually walking away this time. Ominis doesn't bother giving him a reply as he enters the Undercroft.

"My love? I've brought breakfast." Ominis calls out and he can hear your squeal of excitement, probably because you've already sniffed out something he brought for you.

"Strawberry tarts?" You're overjoyed once he unwraps breakfast, and he can't fight the smile that appears on his face. You immediately grab one, taking a big bite as Ominis sheds his robes. He sits back against the headboard next to you, reaching for a banana.

"I missed you, what took so long?" You whined, scooching closer to him to feel the warmth coming from his body. Why do men emit heat like furnaces? You're always cold, and he's always warm.

"Sebastian was being a pest." He says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"What did he do now?" You ask, though there is a smile on your face. You're so happy Ominis is spending time with Sebastian, even if he complains about him afterwards.

"Um, nothing." Ominis evades your question with a blush dusting across his cheeks. You look at him curiously.

"Ominis."

Silence.

"Ominis."

"He figured it out." Is all Ominis says eventually. He looks a little embarrassed.

"Figured what out?" You ask, though you're fairly certain you already know.

"What we got up to...last night." Ominis says softly, and if you didn't know better you'd say Ominis looked shy. You smiled fondly at him, he's the cutest person you've ever seen.

"You're right. He is a pest." You agree, coaxing a chuckle out of Ominis. You wait a few moments before you swing a leg over Ominis's lap, straddling him. Your arms circle around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his.

"You're far too clothed." You mumble softly and Ominis smiles at you.

"Are we not leaving the Undercroft soon?" He teases with a loving smile.

"Eventually, but there are a few things I want to try first..." You say softly, and Ominis is already fumbling with the buttons of his sweater. You stop him with a gentle hand, you're practically aching and you don't feel like waiting.

"Trust me?" You ask him, as if you even need to ask.

"Always." He replies firmly, clenching his jaw when he feels one of your hands traveling south. You've begun to rock against him, and he can hear the soft whines leaving your lips.

"You took too long Ominis...I've been craving you." You whisper softly, and Ominis feels a shudder go down his spine. Now that you two have crossed this threshold he knows now you'll never go back. He's turned into a beast.

"I would have sent Sebastian away sooner had I known you were needing to be taken care of sweetheart." Ominis whispers back, his lips brushing against yours. He feels the wet, warm heat of your cunt grinding against his cock through his pants. He feels blood surging south, and you moan when you feel him getting hot and hard underneath you. You reach down to undo his belt clasp, leaving is displaced enough to work the button of his trousers open. You reach into his pants, your fingers encircling his shaft as you take him out and jerk him a few times. Ominis groans softly, feeling your thumb swipe over his head. His hands have cupped your cheeks to pull your lips against his.

You lean up on your knees, positioning yourself over him before you carefully lower yourself until his tip is nudging against your entrance. You continue to lower yourself, sighing in relief as his cock breaches your folds and slides into you. You continue traveling downwards until you're sitting on his lap, your pelvis flush against his and his cock stretching you open. You're gasping into each others mouths as you raise, only to carefully sink back down on him again. Ominis's hands reach up to explore your bare skin, his hands massaging your breasts as you sweetly bounce on his lap. He swears he's in heaven, nothing on Earth or beyond could be better than this.

You begin to moan louder, the sound becoming desperate and hoarse as you slide down on his cock again. This angle is delicious, it reaches even deeper places that you didn't know could be reached. Ominis's hands have found your hips, helping to control the pace. He is, as you're discovering, a bit of a control freak. He likes to have a say in how fast you're going, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Ominis reaches forward to thumb at your clit, causing you to cry out as your nails bite into his shoulders.

"C-Can't come inside you." Ominis gasps, and you whine in annoyance.

"No my love please, please I love feeling you come inside-" You protest, bouncing on his cock faster now. You're close to release, and so is he. But he won't risk getting you pregnant, at least not until he can properly provide for you and the baby. Besides, the two of you are way too young for that right now. Ominis's arms curl around your body, flipping you over after ensuring the mattress is beneath you. He sweetly thrusts into you, leaning over you on his forearms. He's still fully clothed, and you're stark naked. The image shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

"Please-" Your plea is so carnal, so desperate that Ominis almost complies. But luckily his rational thinking is breaking through the haze of lust clouding your judgement. He thrusts harder, groaning as he feels you clench around him as you come. Your back arches and you cry out his name, your cum drenching his cock. Ominis thrusts a few more times and just as that band snaps, he forces himself to pull out, coming in white ropes across your stomach. You groan in annoyance, you know why he did it, but the feeling of being full of his cum is euphoric. His body is trembling as he lays down next to you, and you can see how badly he hurts.

"Are you okay?" You ask, taking his hand. He smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Never better."

TAGLIST: @abbiesxox @nekee-lilac02 @atomictrashcollectorme @idcabouttumbl @thevintagevictorian

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy spoilers

608 notes · View notes