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#nothing was meant derogatory
hwestil · 2 years
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Mmmm, this chapter solidifying my dislike of Vera. Like. Didn't she go off on Nicholas about not taking her things (an inkwell) but she's out there going through and reading Sonya's papers on Sonya's table.
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pseudowho · 18 days
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"...alright. Just the usual ones? Night time too...and tampons. Don't ever apologise. Alright. We'll be home soon. I love you."
The mid-morning traffic, less frantic now than an hour before, shhhaaaahed around the car. From the passenger seat, Yuuji watched Kento with a fascination about to bubble over with suppressed laughter. Kento put the phone down. Yuuji, just a boy, grinned, almost teasingly at Kento.
"Tampons, huh, Nanamin?"
Kento looked to Yuuji, flicking the windscreen wipers on to rid the screen of drifting cherry blossom. His face remained neutral, sincerely questioning. Yuuji scoffed, bold as brass, before continuing.
"Jeez Nanamin...you're such a simp."
Kento's eyes narrowed, searching for meaning. He repeated, slowly, the word unfamiliar upon his tongue.
"...'simp'."
"You'd do anything for her, right?"
"Is that...a bad thing? You say the word, not that I know it, as if it's derogatory."
Kento tapped on his phone, and Yuuji backpedaled, his grin sliding away to a wide-mouthed grimace as he waved his hands in a fit of no, wait, I can explain. Kento appeared to be reading, his face growing dour. He huffed, one short puff of air from his nose. He tucked his phone away.
"Ah-- Nanamin-- I didn't mean--"
"A simp, hmm? Alright. Come along, Yuuji."
They drove. Yuuji bit his nails as he stared out into traffic. Kento was silent, calm.
And Kento took Yuuji on errands.
At the Conbini, Kento collected pads, tampons, snacks and pain relief.
"Do you have any of the night time ones?" Kento asked the assistant, holding up a pack of pads, unashamed, as Yuuji tried to sink into the floor, just a boy. As the assistant walked away, Kento asked Yuuji, calmly.
"Would a simp do this?"
"Ah...jeez, I...yeah, I guess so."
"Alright."
In the Florist's, Kento was meticulous with the sweating assistant, identifying only the finest blooms of your favourite wildflowers. He commandeered, insisting they were wrapped in brown paper, stamped with wax and tied with ribbons. Tapping his fingers on the counter, bored, Yuuji's reverie was once more broken by Kento's smooth timbre.
"Would a simp do this?"
Kento walked up beside Yuuji, with a spray of sweet botanicals in his arms. Yuuji squirmed beneath the schooling.
"Yeah, I...I reckon so. Probably."
"Splendid. Come along."
At the launderette, collecting your repaired jacket; "Would a simp do this?"
At your parents' house, dropping off a birthday card; "Would a simp do this?"
At Jujutsu High, filing some late paperwork for you; "Would a simp do this?"
In the car, calling Ijichi to cancel drinks the following night; "Would a simp do this?"
By the time Kento had completed his errands, Yuuji sulked, just a boy, begrudging how overboard Kento had gone, all because Yuuji had used slang that meant nothing apart from something Kento couldn't understand.
Yuuji stood back in the hallway, shucking his shoes off, as Kento walked ahead.
Yuuji's eyes darted up, to you, shocked to see that you were...a mess. You could hide the tears all you liked, but your puffy lips and salt-sore cheeks told of a whole day of crying. The dinner Yuuji usually enjoyed wasn't made. The fragrant candles that Yuuji usually enjoyed weren't lit. The curtains were closed.
Yuuji felt vicariously guilty for something he had not done, but he listened to yours and Kento's mumbled conversation.
"...sorry...so shit...haven't done anything...needed you...Yuuji must be hungry, I..."
"...shhh...done nothing wrong...Ijichi cancelled tomorrow anyway...order take-out...come here..."
Kento held you in a rustle of bags and brown-papered flowers. He did not begrudge the tear stains on his lapels. He looked at you as though your very blood ran divine, when you gave the flowers and bag of snacks a watery smile, pressing a salty kiss to Kento's cheeks before walking to the kitchen.
As Kento and Yuuji stood back, watching you swipe your tears away before beginning to fill a vase with Kento's wildflowers, Yuuji dawned upon the cusp of a bold new understanding. Kento felt it, this gentle yearning, and took Yuuji by the hand over the horizon.
Kento's voice was, slow, considered, and gut-wrenchingly sincere.
"Never deny yourself the beauty of loving someone without restraint, for the fear of vulnerability, Yuuji. Never let anyone taint the way love should guide and consume you. Because if loving wholeheartedly is weakness...you shouldn't want to be strong."
Yuuji watched the gentle golden thread of joy that Kento had woven through your sadness. He shuffled, his hands in his pockets, his peachy head tilted down as he kicked at his shoes.
"...yeah, I get you. I'll... I'll be a simp too, then. When I find the one. And...and I'll be proud of it."
Kento smiled, pressing a bag of snacks to Yuuji's chest.
"And I'll be proud of you."
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d0ttiezz-x3 · 1 year
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remembered when i posted my roy x mousse ship art, someone put in their reblog tags something like "i didnt knew people ship them" and now idk what to think anymore
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overgrown-ruins · 1 year
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It may seem counterintuitive, but inaction is still action.
Essentially, it's you saying, "I'm okay with this not happening." And if that upsets you - if you really DO want that thing to happen - then this is your call to action.
If you haven't taken action because:
1.) you haven't figured out the best way of going about it
You're overthinking it and you're putting a lot of unnecessary pressure on yourself. It doesn't have to be perfect. Just do it the way that's simplest or easiest for you.
Because I promise you, others will probably just accept your action at face value. AND they'll likely appreciate a simple action on your part. Because something simple and straightforward is much easier for them to act upon in turn. (This is especially true for busy people, who really appreciate it when others are considerate of their time.)
2.) you're scared
If you really REALLY want the thing, then you're just going to have to do it scared. The scariest outcome is the one your mind comes up with. 99.9% of the time your fears won't materialise. At least in the way you envisioned them.
Either way, if you don't act, it WILL pass you by. It won't wait for you forever. And if the thought of that scares or upsets you, then
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loljaeyunz · 15 days
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𝐒𝐔𝐍 & 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | 𝐏𝐒𝐇
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PAIRING: neglected prince! sunghoon x princess! reader
SUMMARY: park sunghoon, the forsaken prince of the south, had always lived in the shadows of jaeyun's favor. but then you arrived. your presence ignited a flame within him that he had long thought extinguished, and he became profoundly attached to you.
but, when the news of your marriage to jaeyun, the very bastard who had usurped everything sunghoon held dear—reached him, his world shattered once again. now, consumed by helplessness and bitter longing, he understands that no matter how desperately you both cling to each other, you are slipping through his fingers. there is nothing he can do but watch as the love you share is slowly pulled away, knowing that no amount of trying can change the fate that’s already been written. but still, he is willing to try.
GENRE: royalty, love triangle, forbidden love, angst, smut, fluff if you squint
WORD COUNT: 9k
RELEASED: 12th september
TAGLIST: @dollyyun @indigoez @shuichi-sama @capri-cuntz @jiminie-08
@isa942572 @tasnim10 @alienqbrain @arcimedais @irers @mitmit01
@304files @sjakewrld @superbbananananana @deezbin @woorcve
WARNINGS: poor attempt at angst, sunghoon kinda desperate, unprotected sex, pull out method, fingering, breast play,
***
sunghoon was born into a world of privilege and wealth. he was surrounded by unending luxury since he was the lone heir to the royal line. his father planned a sumptuous feast to celebrate his birth and mark the coming of the beloved prince.
everything he could ask for was at his fingertips. he was educated by the most esteemed scholars, dressed in the finest silks, and surrounded by attendants eager to fulfill his every whim. he received expert sword training, had access to the most prestigious collections of art and music, and was given a magnificent garden by his mother.
he embraced every luxury and opportunity, fully prepared to ascend the throne one day. but everything changed when he turned ten. the king, to sunghoon's utter disbelief, revealed the existence of another son, jaeyun, an illegitimate child born of a mistress. 
people were at ease calling jaeyun the king's son, even though he lacked the royal qualities sunghoon so clearly displayed and looked nothing like the king. yet, what infuriated sunghoon most was the king announcing jaeyun as the crown prince, casting aside the rightful heir who carried the true royal blood.
sunghoon was left in a storm of anger and betrayal, unable to understand how his father could deprive him of his birthright and give preference to a kid who, in his opinion, was just a fake.
jaeyun swiftly rose to become the beloved, kind kid of the castle. and as he became the kingdom's favorite, sunghoon watched in rage. it was almost like a bad joke. nobility, attendants, and even royal officials all admired the mistress's kid, the bastard. they spoke of him as the real example of morality and commended his generosity, compassion, and soft heart. in the meantime, sunghoon was ignored, written off as nothing more than a spoilt, pampered prince who was born into wealth and status but didn't deserve the affection of the people.
the world around him refused to treat sunghoon with respect or justice, and his mother was the only one who stood up for him. but, despite her best efforts, the bitterness that was consuming him remained, and she was unable to protect him from the constant barrage of rumors that were echoing through the hallways and comparing him to jaeyun.
sunghoon hated jaeyun for stealing everything from him, including his position, title, and the affection that was rightfully his. but what he hated even more was jaeyun's constant attempts to build a bond between them, as if they were meant to be brothers. he always smiled and stretched out to sunghoon with his boundless generosity. sunghoon couldn't stand it. he hated that every time he made jaeyun cry or called him derogatory names, or pushed him away, jaeyun would always forgive him. that unwavering kindness served as a constant reminder that jaeyun will always be the preferred one, which only made  unghoon more enraged. he never referred to him as a brother since, to him, jaeyun was only a bastard.
but there was one thing sunghoon believed that the bastard couldn’t have; you. 
you were the only princess of a faraway kingdom, visiting theirs for the first time when you were seventeen. sunghoon first met you in his garden one bright morning, where the soft sunlight cast a golden glow on you as you were determined to gather a tangerine from one of the trees. he stood in amused silence as he watched you struggle, your expensive dress catching on branches as you failed miserably at climbing the tree.
“i do not recall permitting strangers to enter my garden?” he called out to you, a smirk playing on his lips. the sound of his words frightened you to the point that you lost your balance and fell off the tree. but before you could hit the ground, sunghoon was there, swift and steady, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. he held you close, his grip firm and protective, your faces mere inches apart as you both froze in the moment, his gaze fixed on yours. “stealing tangerines, my lady?” 
he liked you in that moment, your wide-eyed surprise and the way you had been so determined despite the absurdity of climbing a tree in such fine clothes. there was something endearing in your boldness, in the way you held your breath as if caught in a mischievous act. sunghoon found himself lingering a little longer, not letting you go immediately, enjoying the closeness. and though he spoke of tangerines, it was clear that his interest had already shifted entirely to you.
but he knew he had fallen in love with you when you began treating him with kindness, not out of obligation like everyone else in the castle did. your kindness wasn’t because he was a prince or someone you had to impress. it was genuine, natural, and so effortlessly sincere. you spoke to him as if he were just sunghoon, not the forgotten heir, not the spoiled prince, but simply a person. it was in the way you laughed with him, how you listened, and how you seemed to see him for who he truly was. and that, more than anything, captivated him.
he sought your attention whenever you came, always finding excuses to be near you. whether it was arranging to meet in the garden again or subtly positioning himself where you would be, he was driven by a desire to be close to you. your presence, your genuine warmth, became the highlight of his days. he cherished every moment, every conversation, and every smile, desperate to savor the connection he had come to treasure more than anything else in his world.
you made him run after you for a whole two years, tirelessly pursuing you with an intensity that left no doubt about his feelings. he begged for your attention, presented you with countless gifts, and did everything in his power to win your heart, all in an effort to prove his devotion to you.
every time you visited his kingdom, he was there, waiting, hoping, and showing you just how much you meant to him, making you feel as though you were the only girl gracing the world with your beauty and grace. 
and finally, you accepted him into your heart. 
you began meeting him in secret, sneaking away from the prying eyes of the court. you both knew that keeping your relationship hidden was the only way to avoid the mess that would come from the royal court’s intense scrutiny. if people found out, it could create a scandal, stirring up all sorts of trouble and judgment. with sunghoon’s complicated position and the favoritism toward jaeyun, you wanted to protect what you had from all that drama. so, your secret meetings were your way of keeping your love safe and away from the harsh realities of court life.
you knew he truly loved you. it wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, but in every small thing he did to keep you close. his love for you ran so deep, it felt like something unbreakable, something that would make anyone jealous if they knew about it. he didn’t just see you as an escape from his struggles; you became his reason for peace, the one person who made all the weight of the world disappear when he was with you. and as much as he adored you, your love for him was just as fierce, a connection so intense that it felt like nothing could come between you, not even the royal court or the kingdom’s expectations.
though, it had all been an illusion – an illusion you both had created in your minds, one that allowed you to live in happiness for a time. but it was always fragile, destined to shatter eventually.
it came crashing down when your families made an unexpected arrangement – one that bound you to jaeyun instead. the announcement that you were to wed him, and not sunghoon, tore through everything you had shared. the life you had envisioned with sunghoon vanished in an instant, leaving only the cold, harsh truth of the kingdom's expectations. 
he thought you were his, that no matter what titles jaeyun held or how beloved he was by the kingdom, you belonged to sunghoon alone. jaeyun could never take that from him, or so he thought. but sunghoon was mistaken. the moment the marriage preparations started, he realized with crushing clarity that even you, the one thing he believed jaeyun could never possess, had been about to taken from him.
sunghoon’s frustration boiled over in the days following the preparations. the thought of you standing beside jaeyun, the very person who had stolen everything from him, sent waves of anger coursing through his veins. he couldn’t understand how fate could be so cruel – how it could give him someone as precious as you, only to rip you away and place you in the arms of the bastard he despised. 
that’s why sunghoon couldn’t just sit still and watch you slip away. his anger turned to determination, and one day he stormed into his father’s chambers. he didn’t know that was going to be the first mistake he made.
“how can you be so blind?! jaeyun is nothing but a bastard from the slums, not even your real child. and now you’re marrying off the princess of the east to him? this is a disgrace and an insult to the royal family and to her!” 
after sunghoon’s outburst, the king’s eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and fury. “you have no right to question my decisions! what is it that’s making you act out so violently?! is there a secret affair between you and the princess that you’re trying to protect? speak now before i take drastic measures!”
sunghoon stood paralyzed, his throat tightening as he struggled to find the right words. fear gripped him, thinking that disclosing any details about his relationship with you would put you at risk. he couldn’t afford for you to be harmed in any way. the words caught in his throat, and his silence only served to heighten the king’s suspicion. unbeknownst to him, this inability to respond only made him appear more guilty in his father’s eyes.
the king laughed bitterly, a harsh, derisive sound that filled the room. “so, you have no defense, only silence. how convenient. it seems you have been hiding something after all.” the king walked up to sunghoon, his hands clasped behind and a sick smile adorning his face. “pray tell, son, do you truly believe yourself a more suitable match for the princess? do you imagine that a mere boy like yourself could bring her the happiness she deserves? do you even understand the nature of women, boy? jaeyun will prove a far better husband for her than you ever could. he embodies all that you lack—kindness, duty, wisdom, and the adoration of the people. most importantly, he will be a true family man, qualities you sorely lack.”
sunghoon’s jaw clenched, and eyes fell to the floor, his father's words cutting through him like a blade. he felt as if he was nothing more than a pampered fool, unworthy of the love he sought and the life he was born into. he clenched his fists, struggling to push back the crushing weight of his own insecurities.
“she will wed jaeyun, and if you possess even a shred of regard for her well-being, you will abandon this foolish defiance. if your love for her is genuine, then you will step aside with dignity, for any further insolence will only bring suffering upon her—suffering caused by your own unworthy and unlovable nature.” with those final words, the kind left no room for further discussion, his decision made clear.
his heart, once filled with certainty and defiance, now cracked under the weight of doubt. he felt a wave of self-loathing wash over him. the king’s contemptuous questions echoed in his mind, making him question his worth and his place in the world. was he truly so unfit to love you? had his anger and resentment blinded him to his own flaws? was jaeyun truly the better man—the one who could offer you everything sunghoon never could? the thought of stepping aside, of watching you live a life with jaeyun, made his chest tighten with unbearable pain. he had always believed you were his, that his love was enough, but now... now, he wasn’t sure of anything.
a dark seed of insecurity planted itself in his heart, twisting his anger into something deeper, more dangerous. it was no longer just about losing his birthright; now, it was about losing you, the one person who made him feel like more than just a shadow. the idea of you loving jaeyun, of smiling for him the way you once smiled for sunghoon, was enough to drive him mad. but still, the king’s words echoed in his mind: if you truly love her, you will let her go. and for the first time in his life, sunghoon didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that.
and as he watched you across the table one dinner night, his gaze never left you. he observed your every movement as you sat beside jaeyun, the way your hand delicately rested near his, how jaeyun leaned closer to speak with you. every soft smile you gave jaeyun felt like a dagger in his chest. sunghoon’s jaw tightened as he gripped his cup, a torrent of emotions raging inside him. 
that should be me.
she should be marrying me, not him.
unable to take it any longer, sunghoon abruptly stood, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor echoing through the room. all eyes shifted towards him, but he didn’t care. his gaze remained fixed on you. 
“this charade has gone on long enough,” sunghoon declared, his voice cutting through the murmur of conversation. “i have no time for this.”
the king’s face darkened with anger as he seethed, his voice harsh and commanding. “sit down, sunghoon. the evening is not over, yet.”
sunghoon met his father’s glare with a defiant stare. “i refuse to be part of this farce,” he replied sharply. his eyes then shifted to you, and in that fleeting moment, his gaze was filled with longing. “i will take my leave now, your majesty.”
without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, his footsteps echoing as he made his way toward the exit. he threw one last meaningful glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that spoke of all he couldn’t say. the door slammed shut behind him, leaving an empty seat and a heavy silence in his wake.
that night, sunghoon knew for certain that he couldn’t bear the thought of jaeyun’s hands on you. even the mere idea of jaeyun taking what was meant to be sunghoon’s was unbearable. his insecurities, his pain, all fed into a singular, desperate resolve: he would make you his. you might be promised to jaeyun by royal decree, but sunghoon would make sure that it was his touch, his smell, his presence, that lingered in your thoughts, that stayed with you long after the wedding vows were spoken. he couldn’t let jaeyun steal this last piece of his world, and he was willing to keep you tied to him, heart and soul. 
*
you wander through the garden, eyes scanning the surroundings as you search for your lover. you find him in his garden, as always. the early morning sun bathes the greenery in a soft, golden glow, its light just beginning to filter through the trees. the air is crisp, but you feel a simmering frustration inside as you approach sunghoon, who stands with his back to you, staring into the distance.
"what was that all about last night?" you ask, your tone sharp but not quite angry. it’s more of an irritated curiosity, the kind that demands an answer but without real fury behind it.
he doesn’t turn immediately, but you can see the tension in his posture. after a moment, he glances over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours. 
“you can’t seriously be asking me that.” he says quietly, though there’s an edge to his voice.
“i am,” you reply, stepping closer. “i don’t understand why you acted that way in front of everyone.”
sunghoon finally turns to face you fully, crossing his arms as he leans back against the stone bench. his gaze is intense, like the morning sun itself. “what else was i supposed to do? sit there and pretend everything’s fine? pretend i don’t care when jaeyun’s sitting next to you like-” he cuts himself off, jaw tightening.
you sigh, crossing your own arms. “you can’t keep doing that, sunghoon. storming off, making a scene. it only makes things harder.”
“for who?” he snaps. “for me? for you? or for that bastard, who gets everything handed to him while i-” his voice wavers before he swallows hard, regaining his composure.
there’s a beat of silence between you two, the only sound being the soft rustle of the leaves in the breeze. the frustration still lingers in the air, but underneath it is something deeper, unspoken, pulling at both of you.
abruptly, sunghoon closes the gap, his hands finding your cheeks with a surprising tenderness. the suddenness of his touch makes your breath hitch, your heart skipping a beat as his fingers brush lightly against your skin, holding you in place with an intensity that leaves you momentarily frozen.
“you don’t get it, do you, my love?” sunghoon’s voice trembles slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “you don’t get how i can’t bear to see jaeyun near you,” he says, his nose brushing gently against yours, the touch almost tender, as if he’s trying to bridge the gap between your hearts.
“stop, someone could see us.” you attempt to push him away, but he stands his ground, his body staying firmly in place as if anchored to the spot. 
“no, you don’t get that even just the thought of him breathing the same air as you drives me to the edge of madness,” he continues, his voice growing more urgent. “you, my love, don’t get how much it hurts that he has what should be mine - that you are to wed him, even when you should only be mine.” sunghoon’s grip tightens on your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours. 
you hold his wrists, your voice filled with emotion. “don’t say it like that, sunghoon. i am yours, always and forever. not a day goes by that i am not yours. i shall be yours forever. my beloved prince, the only thing keeping us apart is the world. i need you to feel and know that nothing, not even a promise or a crown, can ever change the reality of who we are.”
the weight of everything presses down on you in that moment, his touch, his words, the sharp edge of the world you both live in. your mind spins, torn between the life you've been forced into and the one you yearn for. sunghoon’s desperation, his jealousy, mirrors the conflict in your own heart. a part of you wishes you could forget the chains that bind you to the kingdom, to jaeyun, to duty. but reality is there.
you know the risks, the consequences that will follow if you give in to this, yet here you are, heart racing, palms sweaty, trembling under his touch. sunghoon’s love is overwhelming, but a part of you craves it. it’s been so long since you’ve felt that from anyone. he wants you fully, without restraint, and that truth fills your chest with warmth, even though it terrifies you.
but there’s guilt, too. jaeyun. the wedding. the vows you haven’t spoken yet but are bound by, nonetheless. you wonder if there’s a way out, if you could ever find peace in the chaos that surrounds you. you want to reach out, to close the gap that has been forced between you. 
despite the anxiety swirling within you, sunghoon’s presence feels like a powerful anchor, grounding you in a way nothing else can. his closeness, his unwavering focus on you, drowns out the chaos and fear. his love feels like both a burden and a gift, but in this moment, you realize how deeply you want to bear it.
“i want to show you a place,” you say quietly, your voice steadying as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze.
his brow furrows slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together. “come with me.”
you lead sunghoon deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser with every step. branches twist together overhead, blocking out most of the light, casting the two of you in shadows. it’s a narrow, almost overgrown path—one that seems untouched, hidden from the world. 
after several minutes of walking in silence, sunghoon speaks up "where are you taking me?"
you glance over your shoulder, offering a small smile. “i know a place. somewhere no one will find us. just us.”
he doesn’t press further, and you continue the trek, leading him through the maze of trees. the forest seems almost impenetrable, the thick canopy overhead making it feel as if the world outside doesn’t exist. it’s as though you’ve left everything behind- the kingdom, the responsibilities, jaeyun - all of it feels far away here.
finally, after what feels like a long walk, the trees begin to part, but not in any obvious way. the path narrows further, and you have to push aside a thick cluster of branches. beyond the trees, the hidden lake comes into view, shrouded by the dense foliage that surrounds it. its surface is perfectly still, barely catching any sunlight from the sky above. it’s a place that could easily go unnoticed, tucked away in this forgotten corner of the forest.
you step aside to let sunghoon take in the view, the two of you standing at the edge of the water. “this is it,” you say softly. “no one ever comes here. it’s just us.”
sunghoon’s grip on your hand loosening slightly as his eyes scan the serene scene before you both. the hidden lake is breathtaking, a secret world untouched by the palace’s watchful eyes. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the gentle ripple of water are the only sounds breaking the silence between you.
after a moment, he speaks, his voice laced with curiosity. “how did you come to know of this place?” he glances at you, brow raised. “i’ve lived here my whole life, and yet i was unaware of its existence.”
you flash him a cocky smile, a teasing glint in your eyes. "the castle walls are thin," you say with a playful tone, leaning in slightly. "i overheard one of the servants talking about it."
sunghoon lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “so, the esteemed princess of the  east takes it upon herself to eavesdrop on the musings of servants?”
you laugh, shrugging. "sometimes it pays off. i couldn’t resist coming to see if it was real. and now..."
your gaze grows more sultry, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. you step closer, fingers brushing lightly against his chest as you slowly unfasten the buttons of his blouse. the intimate gesture shifts the mood, and the air around you becomes charged with a new, heated energy.
“and now,” you say again softly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear, “i think it’s time we enjoy this secret together, don’t you?”
sunghoon’s breath catches, and eyes darken at your words, faces inches away from each other.
the blouse slips off his shoulders, exposing the smooth lines of his chest. his hand reaches for your wrist, guiding it to rest gently on his chest, where you can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. he holds your gaze, a silent question lingering in his eyes, waiting for you to respond to the unspoken invitation.
without warning, you grasp the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him toward you with a forceful urgency. his eyes widen in surprise, but they quickly soften as your lips crash against his. the kiss is fierce, filled with the passion and frustration that have been building between you, a desperate need to close the distance that has always existed.
sunghoon’s breath catches in his throat as he responds, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your very beings together. 
he pulls away just enough to catch his breath. he speaks with a voice rough and filled with an almost primal need. “do you crave me too like i crave you, y/n?” then, he moves to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a series of burning kisses along your collarbone. "like i crave your body, every inch of you,” he murmurs between kisses, "the way you feel against me, the sound of your breath, the taste of your skin. please, i need all of you." 
“then have me, my beloved. have me all to yourself.”
your breaths mingle, warm and ragged, as you stay close. sunghoon’s hands slide to the front of your kirtle, his fingers finding the strings that are secured at your chest and he works them loose.
as the kirtle loosens, it gradually falls away from your shoulders, exposing your bare body to his appreciative eyes. sunghoon’s gaze roams over you with unabashed hunger, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts, the softness of your skin. the sight of you, fully revealed, makes his breath quicken and his eyes darken with raw, intense desire. he takes in every detail with a mixture of awe and possessiveness, as if he’s discovering a hidden treasure that belongs only to him.
to him, you are nothing short of a blessing, a gift that he feels unworthy of receiving. his breath catches as he takes in every curve, every detail, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of adoration. he feels blessed just to be in your presence, to witness you like this.
"you’re more beautiful than i ever dreamed." he whispers, his voice reverent, filled with a deep, unshakable awe.
he slowly removes his breeches, freeing himself from its confines, his movements unhurried. as his garment falls away, your eyes linger on him for a moment, drawn to the sight of his exposed manhood. a rush of heat floods your cheeks. your gaze trails over his physique, the hard lines of muscle and the evidence of his arousal, standing proudly before you.
sunghoon smirks at the shy look in your eyes before he reaches for your hand with a gentle yet firm grip, guiding you toward the shimmering surface of the lake. his touch is both reassuring and electrifying as he leads you into the cool, inviting water, the gentle ripples caressing your skin as you step together into the embrace of the lake’s serene depths.
“now, aren’t you my swan?” he murmurs, his voice soft. with deliberate slowness, he reaches out, brushing aside the strands of hair that had been modestly shielding your breasts. “such beauty, such grace. oh my lord, is it all for me, my love?” 
sunghoon pulls you closer, his chest pressing firmly against yours as his lips find yours once again, the kiss deeper and more fervent. the gentle waves lap at your skin, but the only thing you feel is him, his hands gripping your waist, his lips moving in sync with yours, the sheer desire in the way he touches you.
his hands roam over your back, the cool water contrasting with the fire that blazes between your bodies. you feel the way his fingers press into your skin, the possessive grip of someone who has craved you for too long, unable to hold back anymore. his breath is ragged against your lips, each kiss hotter and hungrier than the last.
"you're all mine, right?" he whispers between kisses, and you can only softly hum as an answer. 
his lips move down the column of your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin, drawing soft moans from your lips. hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your thigh beneath the water. a rush of heat surges through you, mixing with the cool sensation of the lake, and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, steadying yourself as his kisses grow more fervent, more desperate.
sunghoon's lips trail lower, grazing over your collarbone and down toward your chest, his breath hot against your damp skin. every touch sends shivers through your body, your pulse quickening as his hands explore the curves of your waist, your hips, your ass. he tilts his head back up, head resting on the valley of your tits, eyes locked onto yours with a look of pure hunger.
the voice is low and hoarse as he breathes against your skin, “please tell me you’re mine, i need to hear it. i need to know you’re only mine. that no one else will ever have you like this.” his hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze burning into yours, desperate for your answer. "say it, please… that you’re mine, now and always." his breath shaky, waiting for you to respond, his need for reassurance almost as overwhelming as his desire for you.
you cradle his cheeks in your hands, your eyes softening. “in this moment, and every moment that follows, i am wholly yours. i promise you, my dearest, no one else will ever touch me, love me, or have me like you do. only you have this piece of me, forever.” you pull him for a kiss, pouring every ounce of your affection and reassurance into it. his grip on you tightens, and before you realize it, he has you pressed up against the edge of the lake, your back against the cool stone as he leans into you, while his lips continue to caress yours with a loving, unhurried rhythm.
his hands roam freely now, the water sloshing gently around you as his touch becomes bolder. the tension that’s been simmering between you for so long has reached its breaking point, and neither of you can resist it any longer. you can feel every inch of him against you, the heat, the longing, the urgency in the way he holds you. 
“i want you to make love to me, sunghoon.” 
sunghoon’s eyes darken with a fierce intensity as he hears your plea. he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “i’ve waited my whole life for this, my love.”
as sunghoon captures your lips once more, the kiss quickly deepens. he bites down on your lower lip, causing you to whine into his mouth. seizing the opportunity, he slips his tongue into your moist heat, seeking yours with fevered urgency. his movements are messy, growing hungrier and sloppier with each passing second. the way his mouth devours yours, the slick heat of his tongue against yours, makes it feel as though you’re both desperately trying to claim every part of the other. 
your breath falters when his hands move to your breasts, fingers curling around them with a firm, possessive grip. his palms brush over your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. it overwhelms you, and you break the kiss, your forehead resting against his as you pant softly. a thin string of saliva still connects your parted lips. unwavered, he begins to massage, kneading the soft flesh with a steady rhythm, your gazes locked. the pressure of his hands send waves of slick pooling in your cutn, each squeeze making your nipples tighten even more.
then he lowers himself to the same height as your nipples, taking one into his mouth and beginning to suck it like a parched man at an oasis. with a consuming rhythm, his tongue tracing circles around the sensitive peak. he lavishes the same attention on the other, his fingers deftly rolling and pinching the neglected nipple. the combined sensations of his warm, eager mouth and the stimulation from his fingers cause a moan to escape your lips before you can hold it back. you bite down on your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle the sound, but your body betraying you as quiet gasps escape.
he pulls away from your nipple with a wet, audible pop and looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. “don’t try to hold back,” he commands, though his voice betrays a hint of need. “i want to hear every sound you make.”
he then attaches himself to your other nipple, wetting it with his saliva like the other one. your hands instinctively grip his hair as you arch your back. his mouth works eagerly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless rhythm. his fingers dip into the water and finds your clit, teasing it with skilled strokes.
the pleasure builds swiftly as he lavishes your breasts with attention, his hot, insistent mouth working in tandem with the relentless stimulation below. the overwhelming sensations push you to the edge, gasps and moans escaping uncontrollably as your body trembles under his touch.
“sunghoon… it feels-” you say, tightening your grip on his hair as you battle to retain your control.
“good? this is nothing compared to what i am about to make you feel, my love.” 
suddenly, a loud moan erupts from you as his finger breaches your entrance, sliding inside with a slow, deliberate motion. the new sensation leaves you breathless, your body instinctively pushing back against his hand, wanting more. the sight of him never taking his eyes from your face as he keeps busying his mouth, sucking and teasing your nipple, is an utterly lewd display, his gaze filled with raw desire. 
he curls his finger within you, searching for that perfect spot to send you spiraling further into pleasure. every movement of his hand is synchronized with his mouth on your chest, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through your entire body. you feel yourself losing control, the overwhelming pleasure making it harder to hold back your cries.
he inserts another finger inside you, scissoring them to ease you open nicely. you feel a deep pressure building within, like a tightly wound knot yearning to be undone. with each stroke, the tension winds tighter, leaving you aching with a desperate need for release.
“i… ugh please, sunghoon, i wanna cum,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the urgency of your desire. hearing the desperation in your voice, his fingers hasten, thrusting deeper with a renewed fervor. every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through you, drawing you closer to the brink, your body instinctively arching towards him as the pressure inside you mounts, ready to burst.
the lake water churns around his rapidly moving wrist, splashing against parts of your body that have remained dry until now. the sudden coolness of the water only heightens your climax as you come undone on his fingers. your broken moans reverberate through the forest, and you can only cling to the hope that no one is nearby to hear you.
sunghoon helps you ride out your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers. gently, he brushes the damp strands of hair clinging to your face from sweat, then cups your face in his hands and captures your lips in a searing kiss. lips moving against each other in a harmonious rhythm, and his tongue dances with yours in a way that feels both urgent and consuming.
sunghoon's fingers trail down the sides of your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave marks, his eyes burning with desire as they wordlessly tell you to prepare yourself.
with a throaty sound, he pulls you up in one swift motion, your body rising from the water as his hands grip your thighs tightly. your legs instinctively wrap around him, pulling him against you as he steps forward, pinning you against the rugged stone, its cold surface digging into your skin.
you cling to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he keeps you suspended against the rough stone. his hands move higher up your thighs, fingers digging in as he adjusts his grip, making sure you're locked around him. 
you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your folds, the thin layer of water between you doing nothing to cool the growing heat. you both whimper when his hips press forward, cock grinding against your folds in slow, teasing motions.
“sunghoon, don’t tease,” you moan as his cock’s tip presses inside you, then pulls out with a maddening slowness. the slick head brushes against your sensitive inner walls before withdrawing, making your body writhe in frustration. you shiver, your hole gaping as it aches for the fullness that was just barely given. “please, just fill me up. i need you inside me."
hearing your desperate plea, his hips snap forward with a brutal force, the head of his cock slamming deep inside you. a guttural groan rumbles from his throat as he fills you completely, stretching you with a pressure so intense it makes you shiver. you moan loudly, your walls clamping down around him, trying to accommodate his hard, throbbing length.
he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a relentless pace, each motion driving him deeper, his cock dragging along your inner walls with an intoxicating friction. the raw and rough feeling of him moving in and out makes your body quiver with intense pleasure.
he thrusts into you with such unrelenting force that each powerful stroke causes you to bounce up and down on his cock, making your tits jiggle with every thrust, moving rhythmically to match his powerful rhythm. his strong arms, wrapped securely around your thighs, keep you steady; without his firm hold, you would surely topple into the water. 
while he continues to drive into you, he lowers his mouth to your collarbone and begins to kiss, bite and lick the sensitive skin there. his lips are hot and insistent, trailing a path of fiery pleasure along your neck and shoulders. your mouth falls open in a breathless gasp, the only sounds escaping you are guttural moans of ugh ugh ugh that reverberate in the air.
as the pressure inside you mounts, your fingers claw at his back, leaving angry red trails as you cling to him for support. each thrust he delivers feels impossibly deep, his cock stretching you to the brink with every powerful movement. 
your climax builds rapidly, and you clench around him, muscles spasming around his cock with intense need. you can hardly keep your moans in check, the sound of your gasps mingling with the rhythmic slapping of flesh.
feeling the way your pussy tightens around him, he growls low and rough into your ear, his voice dripping with lust. “you’re so tight, my love, i can barely hold on. perfectly wrapped around my cock like you were made for me.” his filthy words drive you even closer to the edge. your head is thrown back, eyes shut tight, your body quaking uncontrollably as you come undone around his cock. 
he continues to thrust into you with relentless intensity. your body, already sensitive and over-stimulated from your recent climax, quakes with every powerful motion. the sensation of his hard cock pounding inside you is nearly overwhelming, making it difficult to catch your breath as the relentless pleasure surges through you.
as he feels the pressure building within him, he pulls out abruptly, the sudden emptiness making you gasp and shiver. his grip on you tightens with one strong arm, keeping you pressed  between the wall and his chest. with his other hand, he begins to pump his throbbing cock furiously, his movements desperate and urgent. each stroke is fast and rough, his hand sliding up and down his length with a frenzied rhythm as he chases his own climax.
his breath grows ragged and uneven, his groans becoming more guttural as he nears the edge. the water around begins to ripple with his frantic movements, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own gasps. finally, with a low, throaty growl, he reaches his peak, his body convulsing as thick, hot streams of cum shoot from the tip of his cock. the warmth of his release spills into the water, mixing with the ripples created by your own tremors.
as he finishes, his hand slows, and he gasps for breath, still clutching you. the lake is tainted with his cum, turning the clear water cloudy with its creamy white streaks.
sunghoon carefully lets you down, his hands slowly loosening their grip on your thighs but keeping you close, never fully letting go. your bodies remain pressed together, slick with sweat and lake water, your skin sticking to his as your chests rise and fall in sync, catching your breath. his forehead rests against yours, the warmth of his skin comforting. between you, his cock, now soft but still thick, rests against your stomach, a reminder of how nice and hard he’d just fucked you.
his lips trail across your face, soft and unhurried, each kiss deliberate and warm. the gentle brush of his nose against your cheek sends a shiver through you as he moves down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "i love you," he whispers, the words barely audible but filled with a deep sincerity, his voice low and intimate.
his arms remain around you, holding you close as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. "you're mine," he murmurs, his tone firmer now, possessive but tender.
sunghoon gently guides you out of the lake, his grip both firm and tender, ensuring your safety on the uneven ground. as you step onto the soft grass, he supports you, his hands brushing away droplets of water from your skin.
he retrieves your kirtle from where it was set aside. as he holds it up, his fingers brush your skin, sending a shiver through you. he helps you into the kirtle, the material clinging slightly as it slips over your body. sunghoon fastens the straps with a practiced touch, his fingers lingering on the delicate fabric. each movement is meticulous, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of this fleeting moment.
as sunghoon finishes fastening the last strap of your kirtle, his thoughts drift to the bittersweet reality of your situation. he feels incredibly fortunate to have shared such a deep connection with you, to have experienced your love and to hold you in his arms. the warmth of the moment, the way you look at him, and the way your body fits against his all fill him with a profound sense of luck.
yet, this profound sense of luck is tempered by a heavy dose of misfortune. the knowledge that you will soon leave his side to return to jaeyun and the duties that come with being by his side weighs heavily on him. the thought of you being with someone else, especially that someone being jaeyun, fills him with an ache he can’t easily shake.
sunghoon’s heart longs for more than just these moments. he wishes he could take you far away from the constraints of the kingdom, from jaeyun, and from the burdens of duty. he dreams of a place where the only thing that matters is the two of you, where worries and obligations don’t intrude on your happiness.
for now, though, all he can do is hold you close, cherish the time you have together, and hope that one day, he can make his dream of a life together away from everything else a reality.
“if only we could remain like this forever.” hee murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, holding you close one last time before you part again. as he drapes his blouse over your shoulders to shield you from the morning breeze, he presses a soft kiss to your neck, his touch lingering with a tender warmth.
*
being with sunghoon is not without its difficulties. each moment together demands a careful balance, where every look and touch is meticulously controlled to keep your affair with him under wraps. 
over the years, you've both perfected this unspoken language. a fleeting glance, a slight tilt of the head, or a barely perceptible smile - all of these become powerful tools in your covert exchanges. it’s an intricate dance of subtlety and intuition, where a single look can convey a world of emotions and thoughts. you've learned to read each other's cues with astonishing accuracy, understanding what the other is saying without a single word being spoken.
sunghoon, for instance, has become adept at detecting the smallest signs of your distress. he can sense when you're upset by the way your gaze momentarily drifts or how your smile falters just a fraction too long. a subtle furrow of your brow or the way you avoid direct eye speaks volumes to him. he’s attuned to these subtle signals, knowing instantly when something is amiss.
just like always, he notices how your body language shifts subtly right now too - the way you absently fidget with your dress or how your gaze drifts towards the window, clearly searching for an escape from the stifling room. it’s evident to him that you're not enjoying the conversation between your older brother jongseong and jaeyun, as they drone on about politics and subjects that bore you to tears.
sunghoon’s eyes narrow slightly as he watches you, his concern masked by a composed expression. he can see the restlessness in your posture, the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other. every now and then, you glance at the door as if willing it to open and offer a reprieve.
oh, the ways he could make you feel good, unlike jaeyun who is making you listen political matters that you couldn’t care less. 
he could slip his fingers inside you, feeling every tight, hot inch as he stroked and teased those sensitive spots, making you writhe with overwhelming pleasure. his mouth could bury itself between your legs, lapping up your sweet nectar and driving you wild with every skilled lick and insistent suck. and his cock, it could plunge deep inside you, filling you to the hilt and delivering a relentless, mind-shattering pleasure that no other man could ever hope to match.
he fantasizes about taking you in this very room, in front of jaeyun, to prove just how much you crave him and need him to make you forget everything else. sunghoon imagines your body responding to his touch, the sounds of your moans calling out his name, and how he could bring you to a peak of pleasure that leaves you utterly spent, all while jaeyun watches as soon-to-be-bride being ravished by him.
the vivid images make sunghoon’s pants tighten. he shifts slightly, trying to adjust his position discreetly, but the growing tension in his trousers becomes impossible to ignore. he knows he needs to act on his desire, and quickly. sunghoon subtly shifts his gaze towards you, his eyes locking with yours for a fleeting moment, filled with a smoldering intensity. then, with a casual but deliberate movement, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans slightly against the wall.
his stance is carefully crafted to appear nonchalant, but his posture is intentionally relaxed, his body angled in a way that draws your attention to the slight, purposeful pressure he applies against the wall with his hip. it’s a subtle but unmistakable signal, a quiet, urgent plea for you to follow him, to find a way to get closer, and to address the growing need he has ignited within him.
as you notice his silent message, you decide to make an excuse to leave the room. you mumble about needing to step outside for some fresh air, citing a vague headache that has suddenly come on. your voice is calm, but there's an edge of urgency as you quickly exit the room.
jaeyun’s gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes revealing a depth of unspoken emotions. though his expression is subdued, there’s a quiet longing in his stare. it’s more than just idle curiosity; his look reflects a mix of disappointment and a barely concealed yearning, as he silently observes your departure with a sense of unvoiced heartache.
sunghoon, noticing the subtle shift in jaeyun’s demeanor, lets a smirk creep onto his face. he meets jaeyun’s gaze with a knowing, almost triumphant expression before turning to follow you out of the room. the smirk lingers on his lips as he exits, leaving jaeyun behind, whose eyes remain fixed on the door, his expression a blend of wistful longing and resignation.
even as you're bouncing on his cock vigorously, sunghoon’s triumphant grin stays fixed, relishing the intense pleasure that the bastard never can have.
he lays on his back, eyes fixed on the way your breasts bounce with each thrust. gripping your hips tightly, he guides you to ride him harder and faster, ensuring to make sure you don’t miss a single stroke. with each movement, he takes satisfaction in the control he has over your body, his pleasure intensifying as he brings you closer to your peak.
as you cum, your body convulses with intense pleasure, and you collapse onto Sunghoon’s chest, trembling. he groans deeply, pulling out of you with a rough jerk. his thick, hot cum spills between your thighs, seeping down your skin. sunghoon, still catching his breath, carefully lays you onto your side, his eyes fixed on the mess he’s made.
with a satisfied smirk, he strokes your hair, his eyes fixed on the mess he’s made
, his cum glistening on your flushed skin. he watches intently as it trickles slowly down your inner thighs, savoring every drop. his hands, now resting possessively on your hips, hold you close, feeling the warmth of your spent body pressed against him. his breathing is ragged, each inhale a testament to the raw pleasure and control he’s reveling in. the scene of his dominance, with you at his mercy, drives him to the brink of satisfaction as he admires the evidence of his claim.
“you are breathtaking, my love.”
you smile faintly, your eyes barely open as you lay beside him, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax. sunghoon’s gaze softens slightly, his smirk giving way to a genuine, if tired, smile. he runs his fingers gently over your skin, savoring the warmth and softness of you against him. 
“i want us to leave all of this behind,” he says quietly, his voice a blend of resolve and affection. “this palace, the endless expectations, the life that’s been forced upon us—let’s abandon it all. i need you with me, y/n, far away from here, where we can build something real and ours. a place where no one knows our names, where we can escape from all the burdens and start anew.”
he gently squeezes your hand, his expression earnest and hopeful. “imagine a life where we’re not bound by duty or tradition, where we can simply be ourselves, where we don’t need to hide from everyone.” 
as soon as you part your lips to say his name, “sunghoon…” his hand reaches up to gently cup your cheek, silencing you with a soft touch. his eyes are intense, filled with longing, but also with a flicker of hope as he continues.
“i know what you're going to say,” he murmurs, his voice unwavering. “but just hear me out.” he moves closer, his forehead almost resting against yours as his words spill out with quiet urgency. “we could go north, far beyond the mountains, to a place where no one knows us. i could build us a home, nothing grand, just something simple. you’ve always wanted a small house and a farm, haven’t you? somewhere quiet, peaceful, where we can live on our own terms.”
his thumb brushes over your lips, his tone growing more earnest. “i’ll work the land. i'll give you everything you need. no more castle walls, no more titles or duties. just us. we could wake up with the sun, plant gardens, raise animals, and fall asleep under the stars. you always say sheep are cute, i could get you a whole flock if you want.” you don’t miss the quivering in his voice as he rambles continuously, “imagine… you, tending to them every morning, their soft wool in your hands. maybe a little goat or two as well, something to make you smile every day. that’s all i want, y/n—a life with you, away from this place, away from everything that’s held us back.”
sunghoon’s eyes glisten slightly as he searches yours, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly. “we could have a life we’ve only dreamed of.” 
your eyes glisten with unshed tears as you hold his gaze, a faint, broken smile tugging at your lips. “sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice wavering. “you don’t even believe those words.”
his face falters for a moment, the hope in his eyes dimming just slightly, but his grip on you remains firm. "i do," he insists, his voice low, almost pleading. “i believe it-” 
"you want to believe it," you interrupt gently, your voice cracking. "and believe me, i want to too. i'd love to wake up next to you, tend to sheep, live that simple life… but we can’t, sunghoon." your eyes well with tears as you hold his gaze, the broken smile fading. "we can’t just leave it all behind. it’s not that simple as it sounds.” 
“please don’t say no, y/n,” he says quietly, his voice cracking with the weight of his plea. he holds you close, his grip firm but gentle.
“i’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “i wish things were different. i wish we could escape and live that life together, but i just can’t.”
sunghoon's face crumples with the weight of your words. his shoulders slump as if the very air has been knocked from his lungs. the passionate fervor in his eyes dims, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. his grip on you tightens momentarily, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting hope you offered, but the strength quickly ebbs away.
the light that once danced in his eyes is now overshadowed by a shadow of despair. he swallows hard, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. his hands, which had been tenderly cupping your face, now fall limply to his sides. 
it hits him hard. that you being with jaeyun and playing the role of his wife is like a knife in his heart. he has a tremendous feeling of hopelessness, knowing that he can no longer fight for the life he always dreamed. 
the thought of never being able to claim you openly or stand by your side without hiding makes him feel confined and smothered. he future he wished for is now permanently out of reach.
he knows that, even if he were to try and find a semblance of normalcy, he will always be living in the shadow of jaeyun. 
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livinginshambles · 1 year
Text
You're unbelievable (derogatory) | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: You're best friends with James, but since his new relationship with Lily, you find yourself standing on the side more often than not.
Your friendship with James breaks when he has to choose between you or Lily, and it's only after the damage is done that he realizes the consequences of his actions.
Note: Lily's kind of a not cool in this fic. Not proofread, mistakes (grammar and maybe continuity because I rewrote the middle from memory) Time lines are wrong, howarts is endless.
_______________________
“James Potter, you’re unbelievable!” You exclaimed, and if not for the widest grin ever plastered on you face, those words could hold an entirely different meaning. You gave James a tight side hug while you clutched your precious gift to your chest.
“Well, you better believe it darling,” Sirius appeared on your left. “Prongs made us stand in line for that signed copy for eight hours. EIGHT HOURS,” he complained and shook James back and forth by his shirt collar.
“And not to mention, he woke us up at 2 o’clock in the morning for that,” Peter happily reminded him, and Sirius wailed at the memory and dramatically dropped to his knees. You stumbled back and James was quick to hold you steadily.
“Oh, quit it with the theatrics,” Remus mused, and he pulled Sirius up from the floor where he had slouched his entire weight against your legs. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Sirius huffed. “For you maybe. Because you secretly wanted to get your book signed too,” he accused Remus. Remus sheepishly shrugged.
James pressed a kiss to your temple, and you melted inside. “Happy birthday, love,” he whispered with a fond smile, and you bashfully looked away.
“Thanks,” you muttered awkwardly. Godric, you despised the attention that birthdays bring along.
“On that note, I’m heading towards the library,” you excused yourself. “But thank you guys so much for getting that book for me, I love you guys so much,” you said and blew them a kiss as you stepped backwards to the door.
“Hold on,” James frowned. “We’re not celebrating?”
“Uh, no I have to work on our Potions assignment.”
“Oh. Well, let me walk you to the library, yeah?” James offered, but you had an inkling feeling that it wasn’t really a question.
You laughed and pulled a face at him. “I can’t stop you anyways, can I? You’re an absolute menace, Potter.”
“I’m just trying to spend the day together.” James wrapped an arm around you and guided you towards the door. 
“You know, the day on which the world has been blessed with your birth. And just as it was always meant to be, might I add, because look at where this led, such a perfectly beautiful day to celebrate.” He winked.
“Today is a wonderful day,” you hummed in agreement. “But you know I was supposed to be born late April, not March. So not really ‘as it was always meant to be’ at all,” you pointed out.
James rolled his eyes. “Uh, yes it was. Otherwise, we would’ve never met at the hospital and become bestest friends.”
“That’s not even correct gramm-”
“Besides, didn’t see you much today,” James unbotherdly continued.
You shook your head in amusement. “Come along then,” you pretended to relent in a joking manner. James was already pulling you along anyway.
You looked back at the rest of the marauders. “You guys also coming?”
You got an unenthusiastic hum from Peter and nothing from Remus, who was too deep in his book to have heard you. You looked at Sirius.
“Darling, I love you, but that’s six flights of stairs,” Sirius laughed, and he settled in on the sofa.
You gasped in fake horror. “So, is that the limit of your love for me?” You sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear. “I guess-, I guess that’s it then. We’re just not meant to be,” you sighed.
“I know, darling. And I’m sorry. Just know, it’s not you, it’s me,” Sirius solemnly agreed.
You opened your mouth to continue your devastating-sad-ending-love-story when James, who had felt strangely annoyed at Sirius, impatiently grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.
You enjoyed the feeling of walking hand in hand with James, even though it was short-lived. He let go of your hand as soon as he realized he was still holding it, and you two walked next to each other in a comfortable silence. Again, short-lived.
“I swear, one of these days, Lily might give me a chance. She smiled at me yesterday after supper, you know.” James happily bragged, eyes in a dreamy haze, no doubt imagining Lily.
You peered up at him and quietly admired his blissed look. It may never be directed towards you but seeing him so happy really made you glad and all warm inside.
Not that you’d ever let him know that.
Instead, you snorted at his words, tiptoed, and slung an arm across his broad shoulders. “In your dreams, maybe,” you sassed at him. James wanted to huff at your reply, but at your struggle to reach his other shoulder, he couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder instead.
“You’ve got to stop growing, James,” you protested and ducked out from under his arm.
“Quite the opposite actually, perhaps you should start,” he mocked you and you reached out to shove him but he put a step back out of the way fluently and then smoothly pulled back his shoulder just in time when you tried to shove him again. “So predictable,” he tsked. You opted to stick out your tongue instead.
“So,” James started. You hummed in reply. “Mum’s asking if you’re spending Easter with us again,” he casually mentioned.
“Oh really, Euphemia is asking me huh,” you teased him.
James looked away embarrassedly.
“Hm, not sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “Think I’m gonna be sort of preoccupied with my cousins from Ireland,” you looked at him through the corner of your eyes and caught his disappointed expression. A grin grew on your face like that of a Cheshire cat and you nudged him again.
“Oh, come on James, I’m kidding, you know. I’ve literally never not spent Easter with you. Besides, I live right across the street, James. I can literally come over any time, even if my cousins visit.”
“Yeah, but I meant like stay over at my house for the whole holiday,” James pouted. You glanced at him and smiled fondly. “Well, again; I live right across the street. So I guess I can also just go and visit my cousins at my house any time.”
You finally reached the bottom of the staircases and stopped mid-step. “Bloody hell, I forgot my books.”
You shot James a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just have to go back up real quick, but it won’t be long at all-.”
“I’m right behind you, love.”
“You can’t be serious,” you gaped at him.
James was beaming. Sirius and Remus’ jaws were slacked on the floor and Peter frowned as if he was trying to comprehend James’ statement.
“She agreed to a date!?” Sirius shrieked out. “But-,” Sirius stammered and he let his eyes fall onto you for a split second. It was very quiet for a moment while all of you processed this news.
“Well, I’ll be damned, Prongs,” you grinned up at him. “Not such a far-fetched idea after all.” You smiled encouragingly at him and he shot you a grateful look.
“Congrats,” you nudged him, and that seemed to break the rest of the marauders out of it, all congratulating and offering date ideas.
You zoned out for a moment. A bitter-sweet taste in your mouth. You we’re thrilled for James. You knew how much she meant to him. But that little piece of hope that you had unconsciously clung onto, made the news tough to take.
Regardless, you were just happy to have James in your life. He was your best friend, and you would support him, no matter what. Because you knew he’d do the same for you.
“When’s the date?” you curiously asked.
James scratched his head. “Uh, next week, Friday night.”
“Wait, Friday when you were going to take me to see the blue crescent moon?” you deadpanned.
“I’ll take you to the next one, I promise,” James solemnly swore and he put his hand on his heart.
You huffed in disappointment but quickly turned around to face Remus with a sweet smile. “Remus, my best friend,” you started, and instantly got pulled back by James who wore a pout on his face.
“Wait, it was supposed to be a you and me thing,” he whined while he tugged you back into his side. You stuck your tongue out and ruffled his hair.
“You’re busy, and the next blue moon is going to be a full moon, so we’ll be with Remus,” you pointed out. “And after that, it’ll be another two years until the next.” Then you skipped back over to Remus.
James hummed in thought. He knew you were right. “Fine,” he reluctantly said. “But I’m taking you to watch the passing comet next month,” he bargained.
You stuck out your hand with a laugh. “Deal,” you grinned.
“It’s a promise,” James confirmed.
It became clear to you that you might have overestimated your own importance to James after he and Lily officially started dating.
Your eyes were searching for James, and you decided to confront him when you spotted him.
“James!” You ran to catch up to him. You smiled at Lily with a small wave. “Lily,” you acknowledged her. “Can I borrow him for a moment?” You asked her. She shrugged and waved her hand in a discarding manner, “of course.”
“Hey uh, you didn’t show up yesterday, just checking in?” you asked James in concern when Lily was out of reach.
James mind blanked for a moment. He was racking his brain about ‘yesterday’ and his eyes grew wide when realization hit him. “Bloody hell, I completely forgot!” He exclaimed.
“Yeah,” you laughed, relieved that he was alright and had just forgotten about it.
“Well you didn’t show up in the astronomy tower so I tried looking for you, but I couldn’t find you. I asked Sirius for the map, but can you believe it? He said he’d lost it.”
You chuckled when you recalled his apologetic expression and completely missed the way James shut his eyes and pinched his nose in guilt.
“I’m so sorry,” James said. He pulled you into a hug.
“Eh, don’t worry about it, Sirius joined me to watch the comet pass by. Wasn’t that impressive, but it did look like a falling star so I guess I made a wish, and-”
“Can have him back now?” Lily’s voice came from behind him, and he quickly released you. “Yeah, of course,” you rushed to say, but she had already grabbed him by the arm and led him away.
James looked back at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’ at you. You shook your head dismissively and raised your thumbs up.
It was only during the next missed hangout, two weeks later, that you found out he forgot because he’d been with Lily instead.
Peter had seen you off to find James, and had watched you return three hours later, a sad look on your face.
“Not again,” he’d groaned and slipped up. You couldn’t be angry at James because you realized that he was just putting effort into his new relationship. Peter had hugged you and you two had spent the evening sneaking into the art room to paint each other.
Peter was surprisingly a splendid artist and you had put the painting that he painted of yourself against the wall on the floor next to your bed, and gave Peter the one you painted of him.
“Damn, Peter,” James nodded at the canvas. “You painted that?”
“Huh? Oh,” Peter was getting dressed and pulled his sweater over his head. He looked from the painting to James. “Uh, Y/N did,” he beamed. “It looks good right?”
“You guys painted..?”
“Yeah, cause you didn’t show up again yesterday,” Peter casually mentioned. “You know, she was-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because James had already sprinted out of the room to find you to apologize.
But as usual, James thought it had to be a grand gesture.
Flowers! Lily liked flowers. Girls like flowers, perfect. The idea popped up in his head, and he went to work to cover your entire dorm and bed with flowers.
It seemed like a perfect idea.
Until it evidently wasn’t. 
“Shit, I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind,” James apologized for the thousandth time as he sat by at the side of the hospital bed with the rest of the marauders. They shared a look with each other.
“Well, I bet you’ll never forget about my severe flower allergy ever again now,” you joked in attempt to console him. Your face was swollen and your eyes were bloodshot.
You smiled at James and tried to push back the hurt you felt at the fact that he forgot about something as important as that.
“I’ll make it up to you,” James quickly promised with a grimace.
“Do you get that same sense of déjà vu or is it just me,” Sirius remarked from the other side of the bed.
“No, I get it too,” Peter agreed almost too quickly.
James frowned at his friends for the little jab. They knew he didn’t do it on purpose right? He looked at Remus for support.
“Better be one hell of an idea,” was all he said.
“Oh come on,” you attempted to kick Sirius weakly with your leg but failed because your legs were still half paralyzed.
“Stop giving him such a hard time,” you started. James shot you a relieved look.
“He’s already feeling shit for almost killing me,” you grinned and James groaned and dropped his head on the side of your bed. You moved your arm with some effort and let your fingers stroke through his hair.
“I’ll be the best best-friend there is, starting from right now. I’ve got so many ideas for Easter holiday and it includes your favorite chocolate,” he promised in a muffled voice.
 
Whatever you imagined his ideas for activities during the Easter holiday included, it wasn’t with Lily in the picture. Yet here you were, sitting across of her at the dinner table.
They were both deeply engrossed in each other and you and Fleamont shared a look.
“How’s your year been, sweetheart?” Fleamont asked and he looked at you over his glasses. You smiled at him, relieved.
“It was great so far, I mean, despite being bedridden for two weeks, but the guys have been great,” you jumped to talk about your adventures.
“I went to watch the blue crescent moon with Remus, and the comet with Sirius. And I’ve painted with Peter! I’ve got to say, he’s painted me in a flattering light,” you rambled on passionately.
“Oh, and we’ve started a study group thing together, it’s basically just Remus and I trying to help Sirius and Peter though,” you lightheartedly joked.
“We’ve played some harmless pranks too, like turning every toad into a cat and every cat into a toad, it was utter chaos!” You shared and at his disapproving look and focus on James, you quickly intervened. “Don’t worry, James didn’t do anything, he’s been good,” you joked.
You missed Fleamont’s raised eyebrows.
“I’ve been swimming in the lake with the boys and pranked Remus and Peter with Sirius and pretended to be merpeople, you should’ve heard their screams!”
Your eyes were gleaming at this point as you relived your happiest moments so far. “Well, until Remus cast a spell on Sirius that turned him into a slug of course.”
“So when the four of us went to Hogsmeade…” You continued to ramble on and failed to notice how James’ eyes subconsciously trailed over to you every now and then, listening in on the conversation and realizing his name never fell once.
Lily noticed his divided attention and was unsurprisingly and rather justifiably annoyed at James.
She voiced out her concerns to James that very night during which you had excused yourself and gone home across the street.
You didn’t want to third wheel and Godric forbid should you share a room with Lily.  She hated your guts as it was and you didn’t feel like being smothered in your sleep.
When you had offered to go back home, you had sort of hoped he would say something along the lines of “No, please stay” and instead were met with a “Yeah, that’s probably for the best”.
And now, all he could wish for was chilling on his bed with you next to him while he was being chastised by Lily. His eyes glanced up and he stared at the enchanted bedroom ceiling full of stars, Lily’s voice long gone from his mind.
“Are you even listening to me?” She waved her hand in front of his face and he fought the urge to pull an annoyed face at her.
At his lack of response though, she repeated herself. “I’m your girlfriend. I thought you wanted this?”
James let her words sink in for a moment. She was all he ever wanted. And it was so so different from what he’d imagined it would be like.
Of course, he wasn’t planning on breaking up or anything, he didn’t want to be that douchebag that was only in it for the chase after all. And he hoped somehow that those feelings would return sometime.
She was everything he wanted. He just wished she’d be more interested in his friends, less disapproving of his pranks, or more proud of his achievements at Quidditch.
He would appreciate it if she were just a little bit more patient with him, and shared a little bit of his humour.
He just wanted her to be more open and enthusiastic about their relationship and himself.
He wanted her to be a little more like you-
He reeled back from that revelation. Oh.
Oh no. That would ruin his friendship.
“-and you know what, you can’t have both, James,” Lily continued and he snapped out of his thoughts.
“I can’t be your girlfriend if she’s in the picture. So choose. It’s me or her.”
James stared at her in surprise and then walked out of his room without another word to her.
He looked out the window at the real starry night sky. It seemed to him that he’d lose you regardless. But maybe, he’d be happy with Lily. She was all that matters, he convinced himself.
“Don’t you see how wrong it is that she’s making you choose,” you asked him incredulously, but your eyes looked at him pleadingly. James forced himself to look back at you and shook his head.
“No, she’s-, she’s right,” he mumbled, and you staggered back at that. “I mean, you’re a girl, you know?” You raised your eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. “Astute observation.” You dryly remarked.
“And everyone assumes things about us, so please, you have to understand that this isn’t fun for Lily either,” James tried. “I just can’t be friends with you and be in a relationship with Lily at the same time.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.
“I can’t,” he urged. “And between you or her, I choose her. She’s my girlfriend,” he reasoned.
“And I’m your best friend since we were born,” you stubbornly retorted.
James looked at you beggingly, hoping that you’ll understand his predicament and that you’d make it easy on him. At the squint of your eyes and the deepening frown on your face, he gulped. “Please. I’m really sorry, but I have to choose her,” he finished weakly, doubling down on his decision.
Realizing that he wasn’t joking, it felt like he might as well have punched you in the gut. Your stubborn look flickered to hurt and then morphed into an ice-cold front of indifference.
You took a deep breath and collected yourself. You stared at him up and down, not recognizing your best friend in him anymore.
“You’re unbelievable,” you shook your head at him, and your voice was devoid of any emotion. With no other words to address the situation, you pushed past him roughly.
Months passed by and the summer vacation started. Then it ended and Hogwarts began again. All without a word from James. He had stopped spending much time with the marauders, mostly busy with walking after Lily.
Sometimes he would glance at you when she wasn’t watching, and he’d feel so lonely.
He waited for you during the vacation, but you never went to yourr house across his. Instead you spent your time with your cousins in Ireland.
When he made his way towards the platform on September 1st,  he felt weird. First of all, he was slightly reluctant to go. He realized that he had thoroughly enjoyed his holiday without Lily.
But secondly, and perhaps most importantly; This was the first time ever that he went to the Hogwarts Express by himself, without you by his side, and an epiphany cleared his mind. Everything was so wrong.
 
You eyed him up and down. With lack of better words, he looked terrible. So terrible, that you might’ve pitied him any other time, because how could you ever be angry at James, when he looked so sad.
When his eyes are glassy and red. When his hair is disheveled as a result of an undoubtedly rough night. When his voice cracked at his sloppy apology. Or when his lips trembled almost unnoticeably when you said no.
But all of that wouldn’t magically clear away your own misery of the past months.
“I was supposed to be your best friend,” you enunciated slowly. “It’s always been you and me. Merlin, we’ve known each other since we were born and they ran out of baby cribs at St. Mungo’s, so they put us together in one!” you exclaimed.
You bitterly scoffed to yourself at the reminder of your literal lifelong friendship.
“But you cut me off for a relationship with Lily? Lily who rejected you for years and when she finally did agree to date you, never even gave you the time of the day?”
You stared at him incredulously and had to remind yourself to tone down your voice a little. You had unconsciously been raising it and didn’t want to attract unwanted attention.
“You followed her around like a lost puppy and cast me aside because she didn’t trust you for being friends with a girl and you were so easy to discard me,” you laughed humorlessly, trying to mask your hurt feelings. “I guess I must’ve really not meant all that much to you.”
To James’ credit, he at least had the decency of looking remorseful. His own words were replaying on a loop in his head. Of course he regretted it all.
“You can’t come back after that and expect me to just open my arms for you,” you firmly stated.
James looked at you helplessly, and you let out another laugh in disbelief. “Oh, Godric, you did,” you stared at him with wide eyes in surprise.
James could feel himself getting flustered and spoke up again. “I just thought that maybe-,”
“No, no, no. Like I said, I’m not doing this again.”
“Please, lov-, Y/N please, if you would just let me prove to you that you do mean so much to me,” His voice was getting increasingly more desperate. “I just want-, I need you to give me a second chanc-”
“A second chance? James, you are way past that. You’ve already had a second chance,” you bitterly told him. “Merlin, I’ve given you a second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth chance. I would’ve given you a thousand chances, but even that, you threw away.”
You tiredly rubbed your face. “I have nothing left to give you.”
Your words hit him in the face and his chest tightened.
“Oh… No, I-, I definitely understand.” His voice came out quietly.
James wanted to hide away. He felt utterly pathetic and ashamed at his own actions.
“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone, then.” He turned around but stopped mid step.
“But Y/N? If you ever change your mind, or if you ever need me, I’ll be there for you this time. Always right behind you.” James let his eyes linger on your face for a moment, taking you in. Merlin, he really missed you.
Your mind struggled to find the words to properly articulate all that you’ve felt these past months.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For not trying to fight for you more,” you sympathetically offered.
“Oh, what? No, that’s-, it really was all my own fault. I chose her over you, and it was stupid. I was stupid, not you.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I should’ve tried harder to find a solution. I regret it too, you know, that we lost us.”
James frowned at your words.
“You-, I don’t even-,” you sighed. “I thought we would be in it for life, you know,” you eventually confessed, and James eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if he understood that completely, but his heart had made a small jump at your confession. Surely you didn’t actually mean…?
“Maybe not side by side as lovers or anything,” you quickly tried to cover yourself, but instead confirmed James’ thoughts. “But I was so sure we’d be partners nonetheless.” James watched you smile fondly, but sadly at the thought.
“I tried so hard not to be jealous of the fact that I was no longer the first person you’d go to for everything.” You chewed on your lower lip and James forced himself to pry his eyes away from it.
“You could be again,” James whispered to himself. But it was loud enough for you to hear it. You chose to ignore it and the way your heart tugged.
“But it was never an issue of jealousy when you actively forgot me on so many different occasions and then just kicked me out for her.”
“I'm sorry, I don’t know why I… how I even…”
“Look, I have to go,” you settled on, and nodded awkwardly at him. “But thanks for apologizing,” you added before you left.
You’d gone about your life according to the same routine of the past few months and paid James little to no mind. Though he was spending all of his time with the marauders again, you somehow found a way of disappearing right when he would arrive.
Days passed and James watched you laugh at the punchline of the joke that a ghost had told you. So close and yet so far.
James knew that you told him no when he had asked if things could go back to the way they were, but he couldn’t give up on you. It was as if something was physically stopping him from doing so.
He wanted you to see him again, but would never cross your boundaries, which left him in a difficult position.
The first opportunity presented itself when he overheard some guy talk shit about you. Except he only saw red instead of an opportunity. Because how dare they.
“She’ll give in someday. I’ll show her how to have a good time. Godric knows she’s too prudish, wouldn’t even let me-“
James surged forward before he could even think and grabbed the guy by the collar, his wand was pointed at the boy’s throat in a matter of seconds, a piercing glare on his face as he gritted through his teeth.
“Don’t.” It was a warning and the boy heeded it and scrambled away when James released him.
“What are you looking at,” he called out to the students that had stopped to watch what was happening. They too, quickly scrambled away, pretending they hadn’t seen a thing.
But by supper, everyone had heard about it, including you. You looked at him from further down the table and nodded at him with a appreciated smile.
James heart skipped a beat and he dreamed of you that night.
So what else could he do for you that would make you happy, he wondered while he wandered around the castle. The marauders were hanging out with you right now, leaving James to his own devices.
“Books!” He yelled out loud and it startled a cat. “Signed books had been successful, right? But what books, and how to…” He muttered to himself.
You stared at the pile of books that started to form next to you while owls flew in and back out again, only to return with more books. When you opened the one on the pile to your left, you saw that it was signed by one of your favorite authors.
Your eyes grew wide and you quickly inspected the signature from up close. Your hands stroked the beautiful hard back cover of the book. First copy.
People all over the great hall were looking at the spectacle  but you just laughed and blew a kiss at the last owl.
You glanced at James because you knew it was him who orchestrated all of this. Only he would know all your favorite authors and books.
James simply offered you a smile and continued eating his food, but he was absolutely beaming inside at the gleeful look on your face.
You visited him in his dorms that night. “James,” you whispered. You held your finger to your lips as a sign not to wake the others.
“James, thank you for the books, they’re amazing,” you told him. “But James, you’ve got to stop. Don’t fight on my behalf. Don’t spend so much money on me. Please “ you begged him.
James’ smile fell. “I made you uncomfortable,“ he noted. You sighed and sat down on his bed. “I used to give you gifts all the time,” he weakly defended himself.
“I don’t want to forgive you,” you started. James looked down.
“You hurt me. Do you get that? You hurt me and broke our friendship and I don’t know when I’ll want to be friends again, but it’ll never the same when I do. So you have to stop doing all of this. You can’t try to buy it with gifts and heroic deeds.”
“I don’t want it to be the same either,” James sighed out in a defeated tone. “I just need you with me. One way or another. I’m not trying to buy anything, I just want to make you happy.”
You understood his words and the implied confession behind them. After all, you had felt the exact same way months ago.
You sadly smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. James closed his eyes at the contact and tried to savor the moment. You really were his greatest regret.
“I don’t want to forgive you,” you stubbornly repeated.
“You don’t have to. I just want to be there.”
“Right behind me, right? No matter what pace?”
“Of course,” he replied.
It took time. Months and months actually, where he respected your boundaries and slowly inserted himself back into your life, with your permission of course.
At first simply joining you with the marauders again. Then thoughtful actions such as giving you his spare quill. Later on even sitting next to you during Transfiguration and building up to study nights and eventually back to star gazing.
However slow it was, everything was worth it, James thought to himself as he opened the door to invite you in for the Easter holiday.
“Hi, thank you for coming over,” he widely smiled.
“Ah you know, I live right across the street, love.”
 
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alchemistc · 4 months
Text
i like your voice in person
Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.
Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.
Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.
"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.
"Uh...nothing, maybe."
"Sounds like something, probably."
Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"
He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.
"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"
Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.
They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.
"You mean the roles thing."
Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.
Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.
He'd needed to clear the air.
Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."
(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")
Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.
"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."
("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")
"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."
The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.
"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.
Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"
"Lay it on me."
Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."
Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"
"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"
Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.
Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.
Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.
"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."
There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.
Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.
Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.
He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.
"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"
"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"
It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.
"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.
Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.
"How do you want me, Buckley?"
The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.
"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."
Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."
The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.
"This is nicer than I expected."
Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.
"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.
The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --
Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.
To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.
They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.
He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."
Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.
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lardfilledbabe · 5 months
Text
I never thought I would get this fat.
You always consoled me for my size, I was always bigger, but I was never this big. It wasn't until I met you that I would get any bigger. I was only 150 pounds when we first got together.
Our dates were wonderful, but every single one was always to a buffet... My appetite was never small, and my self-restraint was even less. It didn't take long before I started blowing up under your meticulous and relentless enabling. 150 pounds turned into 200 as our relationship continued.
And when we moved in together, it only became worse. You would always come home with bags of fast food insisting it was for us both despite the fact only I would devour it, constantly bringing me snacks to graze on, food littering our shared home for me to pick up and scarf down.
As our life together continued, so did my gaining. Snacks and meals blurred together into constant all-day binge eating, and 200 slipped to 250... and then it was 300, 400, 500...
My hands grew plump and my fingers thick like sausages, slowly becoming more and more difficult to bend and grip with.
My cheeks became full, squishing my eyes into a permanent squint and filling out into my thick, heavy double chin that encased my neck like a spare tire.
My arms grew weak and massive, fattened up and good for nothing besides holding the huge sacks of lard that pinned them against my thick, fat stomach folds.
My sides, hips, stomach, tits, ass and back... they practically merged into one the way adipose had accumulated in excess, spilling outwards in every direction like a pile of lard, pinning me down beneath slabs of excess flesh that buried my tree-trunk legs and swollen feet beneath it. My form was not a form, and no features were visible, only my huge rolls that obscured any indication of my anatomy
I was unrecognizable.
10 years was all it took before I had broken half a ton, and my labored wheezing was muted by the tube that pumped my endlessly growing gut full of calories. I was immobilized, stuck like a pig hungrily devouring its slop. I stared up towards the ceiling as my fat-filled chins forced my head to become tilted back at a screen that had started live-streaming my endless gain for money to continue feeding me.
Decorated with insults written upon my massive expanse, a pig... a hog... a food disposal, all sorts of derogatory phrases covered my body, my mystery mix of slop, the pig nose and tail decorating my mass... All requested by the donators watching me continue to eat... and eat... and eat...
Sweat covered, uncontrollably gassy, and disgusting, I was beyond mindbroken. I never wanted to be this fat, but I never stood a chance. It was just my destiny. My fate. I was always meant to be this big, a slob. All I had to do was empty my head and keep eating.
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erodasfishtacos · 6 months
Text
The Stranger & The Thief (roommate!abo)
prompt: YN needs a roommate but has never been around alphas. Harry is the alpha her parents warned her about.
word count: 9.6k+
author’s note: hii guys. enjoy there is currently six more parts up of this series on my patreon which you can join for $3USD!
+++++++++++++++
YN didn’t mind alphas.
Not at all.
YN had grown up in a solely beta household which meant out of all of her family, she was the only omega.
It was difficult growing up, trying to figure out all the intricacies of her secondary gender when her family had no idea what any of it was or what it meant.
Heat was something that had been tortuous to figure out because she did that completely on her own.
All her parents could do was put food and water outside the locked bedroom door periodically as the heat, the pain, the agony persisted for at least five days before she started to feel relief.
A depression always followed for another week.
Then anxiety would start to consistently hurt her chest in the week leading up to her heat because her body is dreading the impending doom, of being dragged through the cycle with nothing that seemed to soothe the ache for her.
YN logically knew the solution would be an alpha, an alpha would be able to solve the problems that she was able to figure out on her own, in the privacy of her bedroom.
However, she grew up in a community that was mostly consisting of betas and omegas, there were a few alphas but none that would have been an option for YN.
Alphas intimidated her.
They were aggressive, demanding, dominant whereas she grew up around betas and omegas who were nurturing, empathic, patient.
It was two different worlds and though her parents did not speak down on alphas, that had made it clear that they felt like YN should settle for a nice beta.
YN never thought anything of it.
She did not crave an alpha.
Well…only during her heats but outside of that, there was no desire to mate with one.
All of her partners up until this point had been betas, that had been just fine for her, none of them were too serious.
The closest she got to a serious relationship was Tate, a gentle beta who was nice, thoughtful, and everything YN thought that she wanted in a partner.
It had been going strong for a few months when her heat had hit.
Tate had come over to offer assistance like they had previously discussed but it had not worked out well at all.
+
YN was embarrassed, she knew she had to face her boyfriend sooner or later, and she put it off for two more days after her heat.
They met at the coffee shop that was an even distance between their apartments.
Tate’s demeanor was off from the minute he sat down, he refused to look at YN directly in the eye, and he didn’t reach out to hold her hand across the table like he normally did anytime that they were out together.
He was the one who spoke first, “This isn’t going to work out.”
YN’s eyes widen in utter disbelief, things had been going so well up until her heat, “Tate, you cannot be serious. I…I’m sorry I acted that way but I did not know that was how I was going to react! We…I won’t ask you to help me out again but we don’t have to break up over it.”
Tate laughs without any humor, “I truly never thought you were a knot-snob.”
YN tenses at the derogatory term, it felt venomous coming out of his mouth, “Why would you say that? I’ve never even been interested in an alpha!”
He shakes his head, lips curling upwards in the slightest, “Really? Because I came over to help you, brought groceries, other things to help take care of you, and when I walked into the bedroom, you growled at me like you were feral.”
YN swallows harshly, she remembers, very vaguely and almost through a fog but she knows what he is saying is truthful.
“You demanded I leave because I was a ‘poor excuse of a man’ because I was a beta,” Tate’s anger cracks into something more devastated which made her feel awful because that was never her intention to hurt him, she would never purposely do that, “You said that I must be delusional to think I could satisfy you. Only an alpha could.”
YN knows there’s tears brimming at her eyes, she was aware of how nasty she had been to him, didn’t fully remember everything she had said but she did believe him about what he was repeating because it’s what went through her mind.
She remembers feeling disgust at seeing him, none of that love she normally has for him was present in her mind at the time, just pure anger that a beta thought that they could please her.
“We just don’t have to spend my heat together, Tate,” YN tries, she truly liked him, loved him as a friend, and saw potential in loving him as a partner.
Tate scoffs, self-deprecating as he finally meets her eye, “I will never be enough for you, YN. I know you weren’t in your right headspace when I came over but your nature made it very clear that you would never be satisfied in our relationship.”
He takes a deep breath, “You…You were a whole different person when I came to you. I thought omegas were supposed to be sweet, pliant, and gentle during their heats. You were agitated, aggressive, and hostile in a way that truly frightened me.”
“Tate, please,” YN reaches for his hand but he retracts it instinctually back onto his lap.
“I…I am not doing this because I want it to be like this. I saw a future with you, truly, I did. I…I really think that you should be with an alpha because it’d be unfair for you and the beta if you continue to date them,” Tate sighs as he gathers his coat, he does have that same gentleness when he gives her a soft smile, “I do wish you the best of luck, YN.”
++
YN had curled in on herself after that, tucked away into a shell, and has been in there ever since.
It’s been about six month since she’d broken up with Tate and she had made the mistake of asking another beta for help during her heat, it was friend who knew what they were in for but she just had to really make sure that it was unsafe for her to be with a beta before she ruled them out of her dating life.
++
YN was only on the precipice of her heat, hoping that if the beta came while she was still more cognizant that it would go more smoothly.
That turned out to be an absolute mistake.
Trevor was coming with the idea that he may need to leave within a few minutes of being there or he could be staying for the length of her heat depending on how it would go.
She had given him the key to get into her apartment so that he didn’t have to wait around for her to answer the door.
YN unfortunately remembers the events that transpire but even though she was aware during their interaction, she felt out of control of her body as she typically did in heat where she couldn’t stop herself from reacting as her wolf mind wanted her to.
“YN? Are you alright? I’m here,” Trevor calls out, smiling when YN appears in the small hallway of the apartment, “Oh hey, sorry I was late but there was a line at the store -”
YN’s eyes are wild, unfocused, and her hair is already messy from rolling around in her nest that she had spent time meticulously building as she started to fall into her heat, “Get the fuck out.”
“YN, listen we talked about -” Trevor begins easily, undeterred at first by her words.
“What? Do you think that you’re going to help me through this heat?” YN laughs meanly, shaking her head with a sharp, cruel smile, “I can smell you. What a weak fucking scent. A beta comes into my home like they can satisfy my heat. You are a joke to think you could give me what an alpha could.”
Trevor swallowed harshly, trying not to let the words hurt his feelings, his masculinity, the security he typically felt in his secondary gender but YN’s words were meant to gnaw at his insides, make him question himself.
“YN,” Trevor replies firmer, standing a bit straighter despite his hands trembling.
“Beta,” She replies but it rolls off her tongue like an insult, “You are nothing to me. You think I would want pups from a weak fucking beta? I’d rather never have a knot in my life than the little you have to offer me. You will never be my alpha.”
Trevor has to bite back the insulting name he would want to call her, knowing that that wouldn’t be helpful but also that him being here was not going to be helpful nor did he want to stay because he was worried she was about to rip his throat out.
He shakes his head, a sour taste in his mouth at the rejection of the omega, he had already been insecure in comparison to the alphas around him.
However, he had a crush on YN, he was stupid for thinking that she would magically be okay with him supporting her through her heat, and now he was realizing that was an absolute mistake because he felt worse than he ever as has before.
In the moment, that was her goal to make him feel that he was less than and she had succeeded.
“I’m just going to leave,” Trevor tells her as he turns towards the door, his bottom lip was quivering as he hangs his head, trying desperately to rationalize this, this wasn’t the kind, sweet, YN that he normally knew, this was feral at best.
“Good,” YN coos as she stands defensively in the door, her eyes were darker than Trevor had ever seen them and the smile on her face wasn’t one that relayed friendliness, it was like she was about to downright murder him.
Trevor has never moved so fast in his life.
++
YN was lucid enough during that to understand why Trevor avoided her like the plague after that, never returning her texts, and the one time she ran into him at the gas station, well he acted like he’d never seen her a day in his life.
She held no blame or ill-will, the things she said were nasty, cruel, and unlike her normal character but it wasn’t an excuse.
YN sent him a few long messages detailing how sorry she was, how she regretted putting him in that situation because she valued him as a friend but they all got left on read.
After that, she stopped trying to find anyone to help her with her heat.
She deleted her dating apps and pushed off the idea of finding someone else.
YN also went to the doctor for her erratic behavior during these times.
“Heat-Induced Aggression and Rage Disorder,” The doctor had told her simply, unphased by her explanation of her symptoms, “Most omegas can spend their cycle with any secondary gender, even other omegas. However, the disorder occurs when an omega requires an alpha and will become aggressive when a beta or an omega attempts to help.”
“How do I solve it?” YN asks desperately, this meant that she would never be able to spend her heat with someone and she couldn’t possibly imagine actually being with an alpha, she’d never been around one, really.
YN, of course, came in contact with alphas on the day-to-day, it wasn’t like they were rare.
It was that she didn’t have any friends, coworkers, or connections to alphas because she was in such a densely populated beta area before moving to the city after she graduated college.
“You need to find an alpha who’s willing to spend your heats with you or continue to spend you heats alone,” The doctor shrugs without any better explanation, “Unless you wish to take medication to completely stop your cycle but that has major medical risks that I would advise against, especially if you ever wish to have children.”
++
That’s where YN is at, with a disorder that doesn’t have a treatment that sounds remotely reasonable to her.
Searching whether in person or online for an alpha partner was extremely unsafe which meant that she had resorted to the fact that she would forever spend her heats alone, in pain.
It made her jealous when her omega friends bragged about how enjoyable, how blissful their heats were spent with their partners.
YN wishes she loved hers but instead, she finds herself thinking death sounds more pleasurable than forever spending five days locked in her bedroom by herself, a slave to her own nature with no help from anyone.
++ a year later ++
YN was going to pull her hair out, it was official because why was it so hard to find someone who appeared somewhat normal to fill the empty bedroom in her apartment?
For the last three years, YN had lived in peaceful harmony with her beta friend, Eileen.
Eileen had started dating her girlfriend, Regina, right after they moved in together.
Two weeks ago, Eileen had let YN know that she was moving out and in with Regina after their recent engagement which meant that she no longer had any income to help her with the rent nor the utilities in less than a month.
YN could technically afford everything on her own, the lease was in her name but it made money tight enough that she had to budget down to the dollar which she despised doing - it was much more manageable when she had someone splitting the bills with her.
And because she would rather not have to cut back on her frivolous spending like her unreasonable expensive smoothies and sure, maybe everytime she sees a pair of socks that look exceptionally comfy she feels the need to buy them.
However, after a third interview with a potential flatmate, YN thought that this may be an impossible task and she should already start her budgeting because there had been issues with all three interviewees.
The first, beta, needed the bathroom from six to nine pm with no explanation as to why.
The second, an omega, stated that she would need to be able to conduct an in-person yoga lesson with six people every other day in their living room.
The third, another beta, demanded that they split the fridge storage fifty-fifty because their last roommate put milk on their shelf of the fridge which they defined as a ‘personal attack’ because they were vegan.
So hopeless is where she found herself after that third beta.
That’s where Niall comes in, her lovely lovely beta friend who sometimes she worries has rocks for brain and other times he’s absolutely the most brilliant being to ever walk the earth, it just honestly depends on the day.
However, she could kiss him when he arrives at her apartment with a bag of chinese takeout and something to solve all of her issues completely, “I have a mate from work who needs a place. He makes good money so I know he’d have no issue paying his part. He’s cool, I trust him enough to recommend him, I’ve worked with him for like six years.”
YN barely even hesitated, she trusted Niall enough to know that he wouldn’t have offered the solution if he didn’t think that it was a good option for her.
He does get sheepish halfway through, “I…I did forget to mention that he’s an alpha.”
YN pauses at that, narrowing her eyes at him because he definitely left that part out in the initial description.
“Niall-” YN begins to huff because it’s not that she totally objected but it was something for her to consider and he had just left that out.
“I know, I know,” Niall puts his hands up, “He’s cool though. He really keeps to himself. I know you’ve never been around alphas, let alone live with one but I really think it would be fine. Don’t you trust me? Plus, he really needs a place to stay.”
YN really should give it more thought.
“He just texted and said he’d be willing to pay three thirds of the rent,” Niall tells her as he looks down at his phone, “If he can move in as soon as possible. Plus he’ll cover internet and electric.”
YN really really should think on it.
She’d never been around an alpha, let alone lived with one, she needs to think about it, weigh the pros and cons.
“Tell him he can move in on Friday,” YN finds herself saying and before she can think better of it, Niall is quickly typing away on his phone and the text alert goes off.
“He said that works for him,” Niall gives her an oblivious thumbs up before picking back up his container of rice and clicking the movie back on like he didn’t just wheel and deal the quickest decision she’s ever made in her life.
She didn’t even ask his name.
++
YN typically isn’t this dumb.
She actually prided herself on her impulse control and rational thinking but as she flutters around the apartment on Friday evening, trying to make it as spotless as possible for her new flatmate, she really starts to question her own sanity.
YN realizes that she’s going to have to have serious conversations with this alpha about boundaries, what will they do when it comes to their cycles, and the thought that their scents will run rampant because they obviously won’t use neutralizers when they’re at home.
Niall had not given much more information beside the fact that his name was Harry, he was twenty-eight, and had a higher up position in the company than Niall so they didn’t always have much interaction, Niall had actually just overheard a conversation he was having on the phone.
YN finds out that he had lived on his own since college but after his landlord decided he was going to sell the house he was renting, Harry had to find somewhere else quickly, and that resulted in him moving in with a friend from university.
That friend was another alpha, which turned sour very after soon after moving in together.
Niall was a bit hesitant when he told her that the issue was Harry, not the other alpha.
Harry was territorial, more of the pack leader type, and it became apparent within days that Harry simply could not share a space with another virile alpha despite Harry forcing the other alpha to submit to him on multiple occasions, it didn’t matter.
Even though Niall assured her that it wouldn’t be an issue because she was an omega, it didn’t make her feel much better but she has too strong of a conscious to promise a place for Harry to stay to then to pull that away from him.
Of course, Niall, the twat, couldn’t make it over while Harry was moving in because he had to go to a family birthday dinner which meant that it would just be the two of them.
“It will just be time to get to know one another,” Niall chirped easily on the phone, unbothered and oblivious to the tension that was building in YN.
++
Harry was supposed to be here at six in the evening.
He quite literally knocks on the door at exactly six.
YN hesitates for a moment before opening the door, her heart was beating unusually fast, and when she opens it, it begins to pump even faster.
The man standing in front of her was clearly an alpha without her even knowing this information before hand.
It was interwoven into every aspect of his being, in a way that could be seen physically but on the other hand, it was unspoken, she couldn’t quite describe it but he was exactly what she imagined an alpha to be.
All of him was defined, sharp from his jaw to his nose to his arms.
His shoulders were broad enough that YN wondered if he could even fit through the doorway without squeezing them inward.
He was tall, taller than she had imagined him, and that added with his width and the pure heft of his bulky but lean muscles - he was fucking intimidating and could hurt her without a shadow of a doubt, she’d be defensless.
This is a bad idea.
YN should tell him he can’t move in.
Her parents raised her better than to let a six foot something, very capable alpha in her home to share with her without knowing anything about him.
The fact of the matter was, he did not even look friendly.
Some alphas were like golden retrievers, easy going and a bit airheaded.
Harry was the stark opposite end of that.
The type of alpha that people avoid because of how dangerous they can be.
If YN was walking down the sidewalk and he was walking towards her, she would without a doubt cross the road to avoid bumping into him but yet, she was welcoming him into her house and something within her felt like this was a good idea.
Her inner omega that is.
Who we all know craves an alpha like water and air.
She pushes that down, as much as possible when she notices how big his hands are and how they would look holding her hips -
He has a frown on his face, the light wrinkles it causes shows YN that he has that expression quite often as he looks at her with a mixture of boredom and exasperation, he should be so fucking friendly because of how much YN is overextending to help him.
He isn’t.
After a moment, YN realizes she’d been staring at him dumbly and has yet to introduce herself.
“YN?” Harry finally asks and his voice is deep, only like an alpha’s can be, no beta could even imitate the vibrato of that tone.
“Yeah, uh, come in?” YN’s voice is higher pitched than she’d prefer as she steps aside, her greeting coming out much more like a question than a statement.
Harry blinks dully at her, a backpack over his shoulder and a few boxes next to his feet, “If you do not want me to come in, just say it. If me being an alpha or a guy is too much, tell me now before I move all my fuckin’ stuff in. I don’t like playing these back and forth games.”
YN is startled by his attitude, she can’t recall a time when anyone has ever talked to her so bluntly or without politeness which again, inherently an alpha thing but it still had her off kilter a bit as his face doesn’t change.
“No, sorry, yeah. You can bring your stuff in, I haven’t changed my mind,” YN steps further back into the apartment, spreading her arms, “This is it. Sorry, I know it isn’t much but I guess a roof over your head is better than nothing.”
Harry doesn’t even bother to look around, doesn’t compliment the comfy furniture or the cute little decorations, “It’s fine. Where’s my room?”
YN knows her smile falls when she realizes this is going exceptionally worse than she had already been dreading, which means that she leads him around the apartment, showing him the bathroom, laundry, linen closet, and then to his room as he remains completely silent.
When he goes to begin to bring his few boxes in, YN moves to pick one up to help but he stops her abruptly, voice firm and demanding,  “No. Put that down.”
YN’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline, “Sorry!” She apologizes for the millionth time in less than thirty minutes, “I was just trying to be helpful.”
Harry snarls his lip in the slightest,  “Am I the alpha or are you?”
YN’s swallows harshly, voice small, “You are.”
“Right. I am the alpha, I will move the heavy boxes, I will unpack. It is my job, not yours,” Harry tells her as he brushes past her to deposit the box into his room before coming out for the next one without anything else to say.
YN should probably stand her ground, set those firm boundaries but she doesn’t, instead she hides out in her room with her cat, Beatrice, (who was also hiding from the unknown visitor) and does not plan to come out until tomorrow morning or until he’s asleep.
But no, when it’s nearly ten at night, YN finally gathers enough courage to knock on his bedroom door to set the house rules, the boundaries because she couldn’t make Harry like her but they could at least be civil.
Or so she thought.
Harry answered the door after a minute, his shirt was off and he was just in a pair of joggers, there was stuff all over his room that he was obviously in the midst of organizing but it also looked worse before everything fit perfectly into place.
“What?” He asks impatiently, like he has a timeframe and YN is disrupting something major.
YN’s mind goes completely blank for a moment because for the first time since he came in, probably because it was night time and his morning scent neutralizers had worn off but she can smell his natural scent for the first time.
It was stronger because he didn’t have anything blocking his glands, his chest was heavily tattooed, and unfairly defined, looking as if he never spent a minute outside of the gym with muscles cut in places YN didn’t even know muscle existed.
His scent was…unlike anything that she had ever smelled in her life.
It was rich, deep, and dark.
It made her dizzy, sleepy, like she could fall into a trance of getting lost in it.
Thick, warm waves of it seemed to short-circuit her mind and make it hard for her to even remember what her purpose was of standing in front of him.
She had never reacted so strongly to scent in her life, never even noticed most of the time what others smelled like but this was seeping into her veins and she couldn’t quite get enough of it as she tried to subtly breathe it in as much as possible.
“What do you want?” Harry reiterates, louder and definitely more annoyed as he crosses his arms.
YN has to blink a few times before she’s shaking her head, “Uh, I just wanted to go over like….house rules? Anything you need from me? Boundaries? How can we operate around each other since we’re going to be living together?”
Harry jaw clenches, his nostrils flared, and he looks appalled.
YN realizes then that he must be able to smell her and by his reaction, he must absolutely hate her scent which made shame and mortification run through her body, of being rejected by this alpha was absolutely confidence crushing.
YN swallows down the whine.
Harry’s eyes trace up to her once, “Here’s the house rules, stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. I’m not looking for a friend. I’m only looking for a place to stay. Understood?”
YN’s mouth is dry, her brain is having a hard time focusing on the harshness of his words because his scent is flashing bright sparkles in her eyesight at the same time, “What about your rut? My heat?”
Harry’s eyes narrow, turning a bit predatory, dangerous for a moment before he’s replying, “I’m sure you have help. If you bring another beta or omega here, that will be fine. I will not bother you. Niall told me you do not typically associate with alphas.”
“Um, okay…That works,” YN lies because she really can’t have another omega or beta here but if she has too, maybe she can try again? Maybe if they come over while she’s not yet in her heat? She’ll have to think about that later, “Your rut?”
“I have it handled,” Harry replies defensively, stepping back and putting his hand on the doorknob, “Just give me a heads up beforehand so that I won’t be blindsided by coming home to the scent change but I will also communicate that with you.”
“Okay, that sounds good-”
The door is shut on her without her even being able to finish her sentence.
“Rude ass fucking alpha,” YN mutters under her breath as she shakes her head, when she plops on her bed, she may or may not scream into her pillow for a moment because she just got herself into a worse situation than she could imagine.
But yet it hasn’t once crossed her mind to kick him out.
Why?
She doesn’t have a clue.
++
YN does not see Harry once during the first two weeks of him living with her.
Not even a glimpse.
And YN would actually wonder if he still even lived here if she wasn’t constantly overwhelmed by his scent.
He must come out of his room once YN is asleep, she does not understand how it is so thick, cloying on every surface of her apartment.
The second you walk in, it hits you, and lets anybody who enters know that an alpha lives here, there would not even be a doubt.
YN vaguely finds herself wondering one night as she sits on her couch whether or not Harry had scent marked the apartment, claiming it as his territory.
She had heard alphas do that, especially when they live with their omega to show that their mate has an alpha who protects them and their home.
However, that’s not the case here, and YN is pretty sure that Harry doesn’t even remotely like her, let alone want to live here so why would he want to claim it?
She rules that out as a possibility, mostly, but when she wakes up in the morning and he had already left for the day, well she can’t help but notice as fucking beautiful her house smells.
YN only gets her heat every six months with the suppressant she’s on but the entire month leading up to it, she finds herself starting to get more rooted in her omega tendencies.
Harry had been living with her for fourish months by this point and nothing had changed since the beginning.
He didn’t use the living room, showered early before YN would wake up and was already gone, and stayed out of the kitchen before she would go to bed.
In the four months, the sightings had been few and far between and she realized that he meant it very literally when he said that he’ll stay out of her way if she stays out of his.
In the sparse times they’ve shared space, whether it was in the hallway or kitchen, Harry’s lip would always curl up and his nose twitched which always incited a bit of insecurity about her scent.
She had always gotten compliments on hers, how light and powdery it smelled like clean laundry spritzed with a hint of orange blossom and vanilla.
YN did not understand why it was so unappealing to the alpha but he was in for a rude awakening as the month leading up to her heat began.
Her scent got noticeably stronger, she felt the urge to scentmark more items in her apartment to claim that this was her home and safe space.
As expected, Harry didn’t say anything the day it all started to intensify.
And to be fair, he never said anything to her.
The closest thing she would get was a low grunt of greeting but despite that, she felt safe with him in her home, and never had any worry that she was in danger.
The alpha made her feel an overwhelming sense of security, in fact, that she had never felt with any beta or omega.
It wasn’t necessary that he was mean to her or treated her poorly, he just…was there.
He didn’t bring anyone home with him, never asked if he could have someone spend the night nor has she ever smelled any visitors either.
However, things really start to change in the beginning of October, the month before her heat would crest and peak before the cycle started all over again.
The first major change she would notice was the difficulty sleeping.
Normally, she slept better than most without typically ever having to get up in the middle of the night or any tossing and turning.
When October hit, it felt near impossible for her to fall asleep and then when she was so exhausted that she did end passing out, it wouldn’t be long before she was awake again which made her always feel like she needed a nap.
++
It was late for a weekday, the clock showing that it was close to midnight, and she had to be up for work at six in the morning but her body did not seem to get the memo because after attempting to sleep since ten, it had not been successful.
YN decided to give it some time before she laid back down again.
YN grabbed a bag of pretzels from the cupboard, gave Beatrice one of the squeeze tubes of tuna-flavored goop, and cuddled up on the couch in the living room.
Of course, nothing sounded good as she flipped through the options, and decided on a romantic comedy that didn’t really interest her but it was her best option to make her sleepy, even if it was from the boredom of a corny film.
YN was about thirty-five minutes in when she realized that the movie wasn’t a helpful tool to fall asleep because she was completely interested in the plot line and she was even more awake than before trying to follow the story.
It made her jump in the slightest when the lock turns in the front door before it’s being opened roughly as Harry walks into the small entryway, shutting the door behind him, and beginning to shuck his coat without even realizing she was sitting there.
She hears him grumpily mumble, “Always leaves the fuckin’ television on.”
Which, yeah, she does forget half the time and the other half she feels like Beatrice likes it on for comfort.
Harry looked worn down, tired, and as beautiful as ever.
He had a duffle over his shoulder that most likely held his work clothes and gym outfit because YN was quite sure that after he was down at his office, he went to the gym which he was at for quite a long time.
She vaguely remembers Niall saying that he boxes occasionally for money and that he trains daily which was a pretty brutal routine of working out before work and after work with no time for relaxation in between.
After he’s lined his shoes up neatly against the wall, (YN notices that he also does the same with her shoes that she had half-haphazardly kicked off when she came home from work), he walks into the living room.
It was obvious that he was going toward the television to shut it off but he lets out the lowest growl of surprise when he spots YN tucked deeply into the corner of the couch with a blanket tucked like a burrito around her.
And YN had never heard, in real life, an alpha growl before.
Instead of being scared, she felt the sudden urge to purr, which scared the absolute shit out of her because why the fuck would she want to purr? She’d only done that when she was a pup and never in her adult life.
Why would she want to do that when this alpha was obviously on edge to the point of growling.
“What are you doing?” Harry grunts, voice sharp and annoyed, nostrils flaring as he must take in her smell.
“I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies hesitantly, eyes darting back up to the screen and then to him because his gaze was so intense and accusatory - it was her house, she could be wherever she wanted when she wanted no matter what time.
“Why?” Harry follows up, his arms crossing over his chest, and making his biceps look unfairly big.
YN grits her teeth, debating on whether she wants to give him a snarky remark to mind his business but then she remembers that she has to live with him and would rather not have them on worse terms then they already seem to be on.
“I always have difficulty sleeping the month of my pre-heat,” YN shrugs, a little embarrassed to be talking about something so intimate with someone who likely did not want to hear anything about her personal life.
“Is that normal?” Harry’s brow furrows, not seeming to like her answer to his question.
YN swipes her tongue across her front teeth nervously, “Um, not really. I…I have a lot of issues regarding my heats and that is one of many. Yeah, I see a doctor but there’s only so much they can do, I guess.”
Harry nods in understanding, doesn’t ask anymore questions or even acknowledge her again as he goes about making himself something to eat before disappearing into his room without another word to her which she was used to by this point.
YN rewinds the movie at bit, she couldn’t really focus when Harry was in the vicinity, and his smell was so fucking overwhelming as he obviously hadn’t showered after the gym and was waiting until he got home.
It wasn’t a bad smell, neither of sweat or filth.
No, it was just that his already delicious smell was stronger, darker, and just encompassing every molecule of the apartment.
It takes her a moment to refocus her attention back on the screen and remember where she had left off, vaguely hearing the shower start to run before he’s shutting the door to his bedroom a little more roughly than a normal.
The plot takes a very unexpectant twist at the end and YN didn’t realize that this rom-com had a sad ending which she really wasn’t used to in most films like this.
After working through all the turmoil and drama that kept popping up for this couple, they finally get it right, and the alpha was about to propose to the omega when he got in a car accident, and ended up passing away.
YN doesn’t not even recognize that she is sobbing like an absolute baby until Harry is standing in front of her with a twitch of irritation in his jaw and only in a pair of joggers, nothing stopping her from seeing the bare, defined muscle of his upper half.
“Why are you crying?” Harry asks as he looks down at her, arms crossed yet again.
YN wipes her face with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie, tears tracks surely making her face puffy as she sits up, “It ha-had a really sad ending I wasn’t expecting,” YN nods up towards where the credit were rolling, “Th-The alpha dies and doesn't get to pro-propose.”
“That’s got you all worked up?” Harry sighs as he moves to grab the remote, flicking off the television and motioning for her to stand up, “You need to try to go to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep,” YN nearly whines, making tears start again.
Oh, did she mention she gets unreasonably emotional during her pre-heat?
“Try,” Harry insists and he gently grabs her wrist, pulling her to her feet, “For both of our sakes, please just try to get some rest.”
YN frowns at that, why does it matter to him?
She hates that she feels disappointed when he lets go of her.
“Okay,” YN agrees as she shuffles her feet towards her bedroom, despising that despite how unfriendly the alpha is, she finds herself wanting comfort from him which…it just doesn’t make any sense and she pushes those thoughts to the very back of her mind.
YN veers off towards the bathroom first and by the time she turns to say goodnight, Harry’s already back in his room with the door shut, and she just ends up sighing before shutting the door of the bathroom to use it before she tries to sleep again.
As she sits down, she notices a pile of fabric in the corner near the sink, and out of curiosity once she’s done, she plucks it up and holds it out.
It was the shirt that Harry had been wearing when he came home, the one he worked out in, and it was absolutely drenched in that smell that made YN weak at the knees.
Harry was meticulously clean.
He never even left behind as much as a crumb of a sandwich and so seeing a shirt of his was unusual because it had never happened before.
YN has no excuse for her behavior, doesn’t really even consciously realize that she’s doing it until she’s back in her room with his shirt tucked up into her hoodie.
She pulls it out and pathetically enough, brings it to her nose where it just smells of alpha, comfort, security, and everything she could ever imagine
It feels wrong, invasive to his privacy almost, and she has never done anything like this in her life.
There was something that outweighed all those negative feelings because she finds that as soon as she lays down and tucks the shirt around her pillow to lay her face into, her eyes instantly become droopy and in no time, she’s out like a light.
+
YN tries to push the whole shirt incident out of her mind the next day, blaming it on her pre-heat haziness, and absolutely nothing else.
Logically, she knows she should return his shirt to him, at least tossing it in his hamper but his scent lingered for days afterwards and there was a direct correlation to how much better she had been sleeping since.
When the scent was completely gone, it was like clockwork that YN began to not be able to fall asleep.
It leads her to another night on the couch, another night of Harry coming in late, and being irritated that she was still awake.
“You were fine the last few nights,” Harry notes as his greeting, no ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’.
YN bites the corner of her lip, lowering the volume a tad on the television, “I know.”
“So why are you up right now?” Harry questions and god, are all alphas this blunt and impersonal or was it just this alpha in particular.
“Because I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies like it’s obvious.
Harry bares his teeth slightly, “Why can’t you sleep?”
“I told you, my pre-heat,” YN realizes that she’s getting a bit defensive because the real answer is much more mortifying and something she would never actually share with him.
He steps in, dropping his duffle unceremoniously, and walks closer to her.
Harry starts to speak slowly, precisely like he’s trying to get YN to understand, “I am not stupid. I understand that. I am asking you, what made you sleep the last few nights? You slept like a rock when I check-, when I walked past your room.”
YN shouldn’t react the way she does but she feels in a way that all the tension between them bubbles up.
Not to mention, it’s incredibly irritating to her how drawn her omega is to him, his scent, his presence, and she fucking hates it because he’s a dickhead.
“I don’t fuckin know, okay? Leave it alone. I’m allowed to be in my living room at whatever hour of the night I please without a fucking interregation,” YN snaps at him angrily, cursing when tears start to drip down her cheeks, and these hormones just sucked, amplifying every emotion she has ten-fold.
Harry lets out a low growl at that, just like the other night, and it doesn’t scare YN once again.
No, for some reason it makes her anger ebb just the slightest.
“Stop the attitude,” Harry replies evenly but his voice was deeper, “I was just checking in on you.”
Anyone else telling her to stop her attitude?
It would have escalated into a nasty fight.
YN instead just deflates, curling up further into her blanket, and covering her face because she just couldn’t get in control of the tears that were streaming down.
He must think she’s a lunatic.
Harry leaves her once again to go shower.
YN’s absolutely praying that he leaves a shirt rumbled on the floor again, despite how guilty that thought makes her feel.
She just wants sleep and for her hormones to even out.
YN feels a bit like a criminal when she goes to the bathroom, soon after Harry had went back out to make himself something for dinner, and there’s a massive disappointment in her stomach when the bathroom is as spotless as always.
She is craving the scent, she knows she can get another fix of it but it would definitely be in his hamper, in his room, and it’s such an invasion of privacy for her to go in there but then again, he’s frying something on the stovetop and he wouldn’t know…
YN’s never stolen in her life, not even gum or nail polish when she was younger, and it’s not even really stealing because she’ll give it back as soon as the scent wears off (but that’s not really true because she hasn’t returned his other shirt and has no intention of it).
She’s already opened his door, quickly scoping out the space, and realizing that his bedroom was the absolute fucking motherload of everything she could ever dream of.
If she thought their whole apartment smelled like him, his bedroom was if you bottled it in a jar, it was thicker, more cloying than ever, and she noticed a purring in her chest before she realized she was doing it and stopped.
If she was completely insane, she would try to grab as much as possible, until her arms are overflowing and she can’t carry out anything else without it falling.
But she’s not that far off the deep end that she did that, she felt creepy enough as she tiptoed over to his laundry hamper and snatched the shirt that was lying on top, the one that Harry had walked in the apartment wearing early.
YN wishes she could loiter a bit longer but that meant a higher chance that she was going to get caught.
She is surprisingly successful as she sneaks back into her room, proud that she now has two shirts to add to her nest.
YN always had a nest, it provided her comfort and security but she absolutely loved that she could intertwine the fabric together with her soft blankets.
This meant she was guaranteed a few more good night sleeps.
++
YN was running incredibly behind for work the next.
She had slept so well that she must have turned off her alarm instead of snoozing iit.
Because when she finally cracks her eyes open, the sun is breaking through her blinds, and her body knows that it is much later than six in the morning.
Her phone confirms that when she clicks on the screen she sees that it is seven-thirty-five.
Any other day, it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal because besides meetings she could make her own schedule.
Of course, of course, she sleeps on the day of an important presentation that she was the head presenter on.
It started at nine which didn’t give her much wiggle room because the commute takes a decent amount of time and that’s if there’s no hectic traffic.
“Shit, shit, shit,”  YN chants to herself when rolls out of bed, glaring judgmentally at Beatrice, and muttering, “You wake me up every other morning for breakfast, but not today, of all days?”
Beatrice blinks slowly at her before she lifts her paw pointedly and nibbles on it.
There’s no time for a shower or the makeup she wanted to do.
The only luck that was on her side was that she laid her outfit out last night after being incredibly indecisive about what she wanted to wear in front of the board of higher ups.
She had tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail that actually passed for the messy updo style, and put on her best push-up bra right after.
YN figured that while she was tugging on her trousers that she could go out to feed Beatrice,  the button was being finicky as it always tending to be so she was looking down as she begin down the hall, and nearly fell backwards when she runs into something hard, warm, and delicious smelling.
Harry’s big hands reach out and wrap around her bare arms, keeping her upright as she yelps in surprise, pants going unbuttoned for a moment as she grips Harry’s forearms for stability and looks at him with wide eyes.
His nostrils are flaring viciously, an irritated growling rumbling through his chest, and he keeps his eyes on her the full time.
They never once darted down to her chest,  that not only was just covered by her bra but was also sheer enough that her nipples were completely visible through the nude fabric.
YN is confused by her own desire to just curl into his chest and feel his shirtless chest against her barely clothed one, and what the fuck.
“Wha-“ YN stammers in confusion, why is he home?
“Why aren’t you at work?” Harry asks pointedly, his jaw was clenched tightly enough that it must be aching with soreness.
“I-I overslept,” She replies shakily, his hands still gripping her arms, fingertips pressing in, “I need to feed Beatrice.”
“No, what you need to do is get yourself dressed. Do you walk around half-naked with every alpha you know? S’indecent,” He’s scolding her like a child as he finally steps back.
YN has been so nice up until this point, despite how wonky her hormones have been.
She’s typically never a nasty person.
She rarely ever gets angry either.
However, today was the wrong day to fuck with her.
“Fuck you,” YN snaps back out of her stupor, much to Harry’s surprise, “I told I was late and I didn’t think you’d be home because you’re always at work by now. I’m sorry I’ve offended you with my body, prick.”
YN turns on her heel, storming back to her room, and snatching up her phone to check the time to see an email notification from her work.
Good morning,
We hope this email finds you well. Our office has to be unfortunately shut down for the next few days due to a major power outage after flooding in the basement of the building. We are estimating a three to four day shutdown. To show our gratitude for your patience, these days will be marked as paid time off. Stay tuned for more information and updates.
Thank you,
Evergreen Financial Accounting
YN feels a huge weight lifted off her chest because not only does she get a few days to relax but now she isn’t going to be late to her important presentation .
However, she does not feel completely relieved because the anger chewing at her over her housemate is just as heavy, even more prominent, and has triggered her inner hormonal omega.
YN fees a flash of defiance which is never a good sign as she usually never tries to rock the boat or cause a stir, prefers to fly under the radar.
No, not today.
YN storms back out of her room because she was going to feed Beatrice in her bra and unbuttoned work slacks if she wanted to.
Harry was sat on the living room couch which was an uncommon sight, a protein drink in a shaker cup, and his eyes on his phone in the opposite hand.
YN goes back into the kitchen, deciding she might as well make herself a breakfast sandwich while she’s at it after she fills Beatrice’s bowl.
She can feel his eyes on her, intense and if it could, his gaze would be burning a hole in her back with how directed and annoyed it was.
YN moves slowly, now that she’s in no rush at all, and she feels stupid for being surprised when Harry lets out a snarl loud enough to echo in the space.
YN doesn’t turn around.
It feels dangerous, she’d learned over and over again growing up to never ever antagonize an alpha, and here she was.
When she doesn’t respond to the noise, it gets louder and makes her ears ring just the slightest, he’s trying to force her attention on him.
Bossy, ill-mannered alpha.
His voice is closer when he speaks, she never even hears him get up.
“Go get some fuckin’ clothes on,” Harry orders,  his voice deeper, raspier than she had ever heard it.
But it also sent a very unpleasant spark of nervousness up her spine because the alpha in front of her was past the point of being annoyed, he was furious.
His shoulders were as broad as they could go, his teeth flashing at her, and his scent was richer, thicker, tinged with a sharp pine.
The playful, brattiness dissipates from her body as his growls stay loud, demanding, deafening.
YN doesn’t realize at first what a bad decision it is to flip her hair over her shoulder, putting her bare bond spot right on display in front of an agitated alpha.
To her utter dismay, he steps forward and their chests are nearly touching, his eyes were now completely focused on the curve of her neck.
When he reaches up, cupping the side of her neck, and curiously thumbs over the spot, YN cannot control the whine that leaves her throat.
His eyes move directly back up to hers, the noise drags him for his daze, and back into reality.
He actually does look her up and down this time, eyes lingering on her chest for a minute before he’s hissing at her once again, “Go get a fucking shirt on.”
With that, he’s turning and grabbing his duffle before storming out the front door, shutting it hard enough it vibrates but then she still hears him take the time to lock it.
Stupid fucking alpha.
+++++++++
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It’s taking a lot of effort to not block anyone tagging my art as q slur.
It sounds like a lot of you might might need to learn some queer history. Which is fine - there is no shame in learning our history. We don’t get taught it- you have to go and specifically look for it.
It’s also important to note- Every single lgbtqia+ community label has been thrown back at us as slur. There isn’t a single one that homophobic, transphobic people haven’t used in a derogatory way. If we collectively decided to call ourselves Humans as our only lgbtqia+ label - no doubt there would be hateful people screaming back at us. Those types of people hate us - and no matter how sanitized, and pure - and free from any stigma you present your queer self - they will still hate us.
Queer was strategically chosen as an umbrella term during the protests in the late 1980 & 90s. If you’re not aware of the AIDS crisis- please learn about it. It was brutal -and the disgusting response from the government, conservatives, religious extremists was - they were happy that it was happening. They let hundreds of thousands of queer people die because they thought we deserved it. It was a truly horrific medical emergency that was purposefully ignored for many years.
So “We’re here, we’re queer, we’re not going to disappear.” became one of the slogans people would yell during marches and protests.
Queer was chosen because it wasn’t sterilized, sanitized, it wasn’t an assimilated, quiet version of being lgbtqia+. It was fucking in your face queer.
You couldn’t ignore it- we weren’t going to hide away in shame, or keep things wrapped up in secret like previous generations. Homophobic , transphobic people had to deal with the fact that queer people existed- and would always exist & there was nothing they could do or say to change that.
Because that’s exactly what they wanted. They wanted assimilation, or total nonexistence of all queer people. And unfortunately they still do.
Which is why seeing “the q slur” is so messed up. It’s giving that sanitized, reagan administration evangelical morality - homophobic, transphobic people everything they had hoped for. A fear based response of - if I make make myself as palatable as possible will you finally respect me?
Here is an amazing photo by Dan Nicolette that I think encapsulates that idea of what queer meant. I’m not going disappear, make myself easier for you homophobes to digest.
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scoonsalicious · 5 months
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1.2 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.
Word Count: 960
Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...
A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts. 
He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in. 
“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”
Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.
Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”
Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?” 
Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”
Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?
“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!” 
Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification. 
“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.
“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”
Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”
Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.
Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.
“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”
“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.
Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”
Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”
When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”
“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”
Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”
Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. 
Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”
“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”
Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager. 
But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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zombieplaygrounds · 4 months
Text
cw: unprotected sex, virgin! konig drabble, some man handling, wrote this in a rush, slight dumbification, idk mannn
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Colonel fucked you like a good and proper bitch. It was derogatory, almost. Didn't hesitate to handle you by the pretty locks of your hair and drag you some place quiet just to feel you grind and roll your hips against his in futile efforts to get yourself off. Your crying and groaning into your own arm, strands of drool slobbering down your soft flesh, your biting, twitching, begging.
König had no problem offering you a real good fuck, spent his hours frustrated on duty, bowing his head, following orders - playing nice. Hated every moment of it, he did. What he hated most? Having to sit there and think about all the things he could do to you. Spent most nights palming his cock, unable to finish and saving all his virile seed just for you. The sweet little barrack bunny who dedicated her cute little cunt to being bullied and violated by his seemingly endless libido.
It was you who took König's virginity, after all. Teasing him with endless soft touches, rubbing against his upper thigh while you pretended to really give a shit about his issues. Let him growl in to your shoulder about all his issues while he hoisted you up by the meat of your fleshy thighs and held you between himself and the wall. All hoisted up on his throbbing cock, which wept milk, white tears of precum that acted as lubricant for your needy pussy.
Poor König, he was so fucked up and twisted, traumatized and thoroughly mind broken by the countless lives he slaughtered with the same hands that gently rub and map out the pretty markings across your skin. You pant endlessly in his ears, words of praise, sweet words that he genuinely didn't deserve. Calling him your "good, loyal dog".
It made his knees weak, absolutely crushing you under his weight while he fucked you against that cold, hard wall. His huffs like a rutting pup, equally desperate and sloppy in his thrusts, only slowing down when your hands slip inside his mask just to give his hair a rough, threatening tug.
König lets you get away with a lot, schatz, but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of the effect he's pussy drunk. He'll give you a firm smack on the ass, a slurring string of commands that are meant to scold you. Only accomplishing a giggle and a obeying whine in his ear from your pretty mouth. Your cunt squeezing tightly on him, sucking up all the warm spend he presses deep into you, left in nothing but a shivering, shaken completion.
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tagging: @babybimbo777 @kettlemouse @yandere-kokeshi
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throneofsapphics · 1 year
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Part two to up all night? It’s such a funny idea 😂
up all night (part two)
(part one)
Azriel x Reader x Cassian
Summary: You, Cassian, and Azriel get into a small argument.
Warnings: a bit of suggestiveness
A/N: thank you for requesting it!
“You were at the Riverhouse,” Azriel commented, the corners of his mouth turning up. You weren’t really angry, but his amusement pissed you off.
“You weren’t meant to hear that.” Cassian said, distracting you from glaring at the shadowsinger. 
“Oh?” You slowly turned your head back to face him. Cassian inhaled sharply, seeming to realize he’d said the exact wrong thing. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk shit about your mate.” 
Azriel’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to him, “and you’re the one that said it,” you snapped. 
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You shrugged his hand off your shoulder. “Well,” you huffed. “Nobody likes a pissy Cassian.” You could almost feel the wince from the male in question, at how you said his name. 
“Y/n,” he called as you stalked off to the bathroom. “It’s a compliment.” 
You slammed the door anyway, hearing their hushed voices outside - too low for you to distinguish what they were saying. The smooth wood dug into your back as you slid down against it, sitting on the floor with your head held between your hands. You weren’t exactly fair to them, and knew it wasn’t meant in any harsh or derogatory way, but it still got on your nerves. Guilt started to sweep into you at how aggressive you’d been. You were always a gentle person, not really prone to snappy comments or arguments. 
You shoved the thoughts away and rose back to your feet, quickly going through the movements to get ready for bed. The door creaked open behind you, and you spotted Azriel in the mirror. Your hand paused, halfway through brushing your hair. He slowly made his way over to you, stopping so just an inch was between your bodies. His scarred hand wrapped around your, and he tugged the hairbrush away from you. 
“Let me,” he said quietly, and started working through the slight tangles in your hair. He was always gentle, making sure nothing would tug or make you wince. He methodically worked his way through, and you knew this was his way of apologizing to you. Azriel always tended to apologize through actions, or little acts of service, while Cassian would whisper them over and over again, until you told him to shut up.
“I’m sorry.” He said, almost quiet enough you didn’t pick up on it. A shadow swirled around your hand, a gentle and comforting caress. 
“It’s .. I overreacted,” you admitted, begrudgingly, and watching his expression in the mirror. 
“Maybe a bit,” he gave you a small smile, tugging on your hair when you rolled your eyes. “Someone else wants to apologize,” he whispered, kissing the side of your neck, and tugging you out of the room.
Cassian stood a few feet away from the door, looking vaguely like a kicked puppy, but his eyes lit up when he saw the soft smile on your face. 
“I’m sorry-” you both said at the same time. He snorted and tugged you forward, wrapping you in a tight hug, propping his chin on the top of your head. 
“How do I make it up to you?” He murmured. 
“You could …” You pulled back so you could look at him, mischief crossing your features. “Keep me up all night, without getting pissy.” 
“That’s a tall ask.” Azriel said from behind you, and you saw Cassian cutting a sharp glare at him. One hand tilted your chin up, and he lowered himself so he was a hairs breadth away from your lips. 
“Deal.” You took a step away from him, shrugging out of his arms. 
“Maybe next time,” you bit your bottom lip at the look of dismay on his face. “You have a meeting tomorrow.” 
You turned, making sure to flip your hair over your shoulder, and crawled into bed. You vaguely heard Cassian grumble, and the bathroom door open and close. 
Azriel slid into bed next to you, pulling you close and guiding you to rest your head against his chest. “That’s my girl,” you heard him say under his breath, and buried your face into him to hide a smile.
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itskybabes-blog · 2 months
Text
Duke Dennis Drabble
Duke Dennis x fem!reader (no face claim but poc!reader friendly)
Part two: The Confession
Disclaimer: this is written by a dyslexic person – please forgive any grammar and spelling errors
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TW: swearing, drinking and using derogatory language
Plot: After your big night at an AMP pool part (that you probs won’t remember tomorrow), you finally let your lil’ secret slip.
Word count: 672
ICYMI: part one
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“What the fuck am I doing?” You slurred back in confusion. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You rise up from the bed and try to point your finger at him, but stumble forward because you was unaware of your own strength. Duke has to catch you before your pearly whites were scattered all over his floor.
“See, man,” Duke whines with you in his arms, “this is what I’m talking about”.
You move out his arms and squint your eyes at him, trying to focus on all three of him at once.
“Y/N, you can’t stand up straight. You got yourself stupid drunk and started twerking on everyone. Your nipple was fucking hanging out like you’s some fucking whore or sum,” Duke rants.
“Whore?!” – you sober up real quick – “You’re calling me a whore?” you exclaim back, shoving finger quotation marks in his face.
“Meanwhile, you’re here, throwing this stupid party full of thirsty clout-chasing bimbos who only wanna suck your dick, get your Ps and cut! Fucking lodging your tongue down some random girl’s face – you’d be lucky to not have herpes, right now!” You lay into him, using whatever left over competence you have. Dutch courage is certainly real.
“Whore?” You said again, this time with a soft chuckle - which we all know is not good. Duke knows you found nothing funny but couldn’t care because “you’re a fucking embarrassment!”
“Oh my fucking gosh, more fucking names,” you said with a dramatic sigh. You begin to pace around: “What else am I? A slut? A bitch? What else am I, Duke? Tell me!”
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You end up in a couple centimetres away from Duke with a face full of fire and push him weakly (pathetically) away from her. His look of disgust softens – maybe he was being a little harsh.
So, he takes the punk move: “You know what, I don’t care. This is not even worth it, man. Fucking drunk!”
That one snapped a heartstring. Duke’s back faces you as he had his hand on the knob.
“You don’t care? You never cared about me, did you?” You come back at him.
“What?” He looked back, utterly confused you’d ever say that.
“You never fucking cared. I’m meant to be someone special to you – your best friend – and you only ever want me around when you don’t have a fuck buddy around. When you need a girl to make you look good when your hotline hoe ain’t picking up,” you start to spew some of your deep feelings.
Duke lets go of the handle and leans against the door. “Y/N, I-“
“You don’t fucking care about me. I fucking hop on a 2-hour flight weekly to see your ass and look all pretty for your stream. Then, you kick me out to entertain a next bitch, passing me off to the rest of the bros like I’m some community hoe. You never fucking cared about me. You never fucking did. You-“
“Are you jealous?” Duke saunters back to you, grinning. His diamond grill playing tricks with your hooded eyes.
“Huh? Where you get that from?” You feel your cheeks burn, turning your head to the side.
“As a friend, you care too much about my roster,” Duke tries to explain. He drops his head to try and make you look him in the eye, but you keep avoiding his accusatory gaze.
“You talking like we fucking or sum,” Duke continues to press you.
“Why would I want you, like, what? Like, that’s- Ha! Ewwww,” you try to act repulsed but you never got an A in drama. Your acting skills are subpar.
“Oh, OK. Just know: I’d drop my roster just for you.”
Your head whips around and look Duke square in his face. A goofy and toothy smile plasters across his face.
“You fucking play too fucking much. You can’t be trying to tease me and shit. Why would I fucking want you? You never cared about me before, why the fuck no-“ Duke’s pillowy lips press intensely on yours.
“Girl, shut up.”
“Yes, sir.”
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A/N: here’s the second part! Now, I really hate writing smut so pls forgive me but I’m skipping over that. Pls enjoy this quick update :)
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iliketangerines · 6 months
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Do you write for Havik or Rain? I just barely see any fanfics of them and since ur an MK writer, I am taking the chance.
Could you write Earthrealm Champion! Reader with either Havik or Rain? Like some enemies to lovers tension going on... You don't have to write them if you don't want to though, I just wish they had more content.
sweet as wine
a/n: god knows i need more content for the both of them as well.
pairing: rain x afab!reader
warnings: nsfw (MDNI), creampies
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Rain didn’t like you all too much
you also had water magic and when you had bested him in kombat because he foolishly believed that a human wouldn’t be able to beat the high mage of outworld…
well, safe to say, he felt humiliated
even more so when you had stuck your tongue out at him like som petty child and then put your hand up and flipped up your middle finger
he wasn’t sure what it meant but judging by Raiden’s disappointed glare, he knew it was some sort of insult
he sits across from you in the dining hall while you chat with the others about something on Earthrealm, and he scoffs at you when you say you had learned some water tricks when you were younger
you glance at him at his sound, but you just shoot him a glare before continuing with how you first learned flashy tricks as a dancer before switching to kombat
the next few days are torture having to sit next to you and listen to your stories
he tries to one-up you with his own stories about the decades he spent learning mastering the art of water magic, and yet you always seem to do better than him
you wielded magic younger, you learned it faster, you fought better with the water than he did, and it infuriated Rain to no end
even worse, he was always stuck next to you because two water magic users theoretically should get along with each other, but Rain held nothing but envy towards you
and yet, despite all that, you were always somewhat cordial with him, letting the smallest hints of frustration shine through when he grumbled something derogatory about Earthrealmers
but, you still stuck by him closely and traveled with him around the palaces and the village outside, and he eventually stopped mumbling insults at you and started seeing who you really were
he couldn’t deny that you were beautiful, especially in the soft glow of the lanterns while smiling at him
you bought him food and desserts from the vendors and asked him to explain it all to you about the food, and he found himself day after day finding joy in watching your face light up when he explained the cultural treats and snacked on them
and then he had gone and betrayed the empire and flooded Seido with water, too blinded by his ambition, and he had come back to court begging for forgiveness and to be punished for his actions
and then you were there, defending him to try and better himself as a person rather than be locked up to rot for the rest of his life
Rain felt his heart thump at the sight of you fighting for him, and he knew he was a goner
he spent his days bettering himself with you by his side, teaching him all the tricks you had learned, and he did the same for you
sometimes, some of the old banter would come back, insults flying at each other, but now it was underlined with a hint of playfulness, a hint of flirting
or maybe it was all in his head
and now, he sat with you on the balcony of the training pits, moon high in the sky, as you both drank some sweet outworld alcohol and regaled each other with tales of learning and failing certain water magic
you laugh as he tells you he had been trying to make a ball of water float over to him when he first learned magic but it had ended with puddles on the floor and a mop to clean it all up
you slap his shoulder and lean in close, not quite believing that the high mage of outworld couldn’t even manage to float a simple ball of water
Rain rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but focus on the way your hand is so warm on his shoulder
he takes another sip of his drink and tells you that you couldn’t have been perfect at wielding magic at first as well, and you smile and giggle
you tell him about how the first time you had wielded water magic, you had gotten mad at your mom for something frivolous and the sink in the kitchen had exploded during your tantrum
Rain doubles over in laughter, and he doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he opens his eyes and finds your face just a few inches from his
your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips, and his heart thumps in his chest
if he just leaned in a little closer, he would be kissing you
he whispers at you to tell him to stop if you get uncomfortable, and he raises a hand up to cup your face
you lean into the touch, and he dips his head down low to press a soft and quick kiss to your lips
you smile at him when he pulls back and ask with a smirk if that’s all he can do, you would’ve thought a mage with decades more experience would be more bold
Rain rolls his eyes and grabs onto the lapels of your shirt and smashes your lips together
you groan into the kiss and slide into his lap to try and get closer, and Rain presses his tongue into your mouth, desperate to taste all of you
you let him in, and you cup the back of his neck as your hips slowly grind into him
Rain can feel himself getting hard underneath you, and you seem to know it to because your other hand comes down and palms at his dick
he groans and pulls away to admire you
your chest is heaving, your lips are glossy, and your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and the kiss earlier
Rain asks if you want to go further, and you jump up and drag him to his feet and tell him to take you to his bedroom
he smiles and quickly whisks you away to his bedroom, but it’s not quite so subtle with the way your giggles and his laughs echo in the high palace hallways and how your footsteps stumble all about the marbled floors
but finally, the two of you reach his bedroom, and he leads you to his humble bed
you fall onto the bed on your back, and Rain crawls onto the bed and kisses you again, weight atop of you and pressing his clothed cock into your hips
Rain grinds into you and moans into your mouth while his hands paw at your clothing clumsily, fingers not quite as deft with the alcohol running in his veins
you taste so sweet for him, and you can’t seem to get enough of him either with the way your hands claw at his clothes
the two of you pull apart, and Rain’s not quite sure what to do next honestly
but it seems you’re not too sure either because the two of you just lay on the bed, breaths mingling as your chests heave
Rain asks if you’ve ever done this before, and you let out a sigh of relief and say that you thought you were the only one
you then prop yourself up on your elbows and say you would’ve thought that since he’s so old that he would’ve had at least some experience
he ducks his head as his cheeks warm and says he was too busy focused on his studies to try and get with anyone
you laugh at him and call him a nerd, and he scowls at you
but you stop laughing eventually and wipe away a tear and say let’s take it slow
Rain nods and kisses you sweetly, before you pull away and say to get those damn robes off him, you want to see him in all his glory
he blushes at your lewd words, but when you start undressing as well, revealing your plush chest and toned legs underneath the uniform, Rain hurries to undress as well
the two of you throw your clothes onto the floor, and the both of you trace each other’s bodies with your fingertips
Rain can feel himself getting harder as your hands lightly brush over his arms, his chest, his stomach
and he can feel your impatience as well with the way you squirm underneath his warm hands squeezing your chest and your thighs
he kisses you again, leaning overtop of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your pussy against his cock
he moans into your mouth at the feeling of your wet pussy sliding against his, and he reaches a hand down to line himself up and push into you
you whine at the stretch and tell him to slow down, you need to adjust
little tears well at the edges of your eyes as you pant, and Rain peppers light little kisses over your face as he stays buried inside of you
he moans into your skin at the feeling of your warm wet cunt around his cock, but he keeps his hips still as he lets you adjust to the stretch
finally, you let out a whimper for him to move, and he gives an experimental thrust
you let out a little whine and throw your head back as you dig your nails into his back, and Rain groans at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him
his thrusts are slow and shallow at first, but as your whine grow needier, Rain’s thrusts gets faster and rougher until he’s fucking into you roughly
his hips make a wet slapping sound as they meet yours and bumps into your clit, sending little stars bursting through your vision
you moan as Rain re-angles his hips and his tip bullies against your sweet spot
your whimpers grow louder, and you scratch angry red lines into Rain’s back as he groans into your ear
you’re so tight and warm for him, and the little pleas you let out as he fucks into you has his mind spinning with pleasure
he captures your lips in a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as your cunt clamps down on him and you cum
Rain whines into your mouth, and his hips stutter as he cums inside of you
he lets his seed empty into your wet pussy and kisses you until you’re both breathless again
finally, he pulls out, and he lays down beside you
you can feel his cum dripping out of you, but you can’t really find it in yourself to care as Rain brings you close to his plush chest
you look up at him, and you can’t help yourself as you tell him that he didn’t do so bad for a old man
Rain scowls down at you and reaches his hand down to give a playful smack to your ass, and you wiggle your eyebrows at him, telling him jokes on him you liked that
Rain smiles and tells you next time, and you laugh and cuddle up next to him
the both of you fall asleep quickly, close together and in each other’s warmth
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Text
The Snark Is Real This Morning
Oh no! Some patriarchal shill just had an Illegal Corset Thought on the Internet!
Maybe they said "corsets weren't invented by the patriarchy" or "comfort was actually often a prime concern for most women's day-to-day corset-wearing, as evidenced by mid-late 19th century advertising" or "women didn't go around fainting constantly because most of them didn't tightlace most of the time."
Maybe they brought up "survivorship bias in extant clothing" or "rampant photo doctoring in the 19th/early 20th century" or "treating satirical cartoons and fashion plates as gospel" or "museums displaying corsets laced entirely closed when wear patterns and primary sources indicate that lacing gaps were more common in many times and places" These concepts are actually conspiracies invented by Big Misogyny to sell more booze to depressed history workers!
Maybe one of them said that she'd worn corsets, or even that she and/or her friends actually found them more comfortable than bras! Clearly she believes this is representative of all women throughout history and in the present day. Besides, she is suffering from Femininity Poisoning and nothing coming out of her silly, weak little brain can be taken seriously. Remember, it is Peak Feminism to dismiss what a woman says because of her gender presentation!
Don't be fooled! All of these statements mean one thing: they are saying that corsets were and are, always and forever, universally feminist and empowering. That no woman in the past ever found them uncomfortable, and that GNC women didn't exist before 1960 and also are icky. Did they actually say that? Doesn't matter! You know what she Really Meant- you've seen P*rates of the Caribbean and Br*dgerton! Corsets were always torture devices meant to oppress women, and any statement contradicting that clearly means the extreme opposite.
So what's a right-thinking and concerned Internet Citizen to do? You have a few options:
See point above re: femininity. Feminine-presenting women are basically brainless, so if a woman talking about dress history Wears An Skirt, you can just write off whatever she says. Easy peasy! Be sure to say something derogatory about her appearance, so others know why they shouldn't take her seriously.
Accuse them of not knowing their history. Any degrees, professional experience, publications, academic accolades, etc. they may have are irrelevant. Their primary sources are...idk photoshopped or something? Best to ignore them altogether. You have Feelings on your side, and that's far more valuable than any research!
Accuse them of accusing you of being a t*rf. Works especially well if they've said anything about the preponderance of t*rfs expressing your True and Correct views- that just means they're calling everyone who thinks like you a transphobe, duh!
Tell them they're not believing women. If they have cited so-called "realities of historical women's lives," well, that's clearly just the rich elite of any given era (who were also brainrotted by Femininity, natch). If you're a woman, and you say corsets were the spawn of Beelzebub, that should be enough ~evidence~ for anyone!
Appeal to common knowledge. Everyone KNOWS corsets were evil; can they really be DEFENDING a KNOWN HATEFUL OPPRESSIVE HELL-GARMENT?! What is the world coming to! If they ask how exactly everyone knows that and where that collective belief comes from, reply with a snarky GIF and block them. There's just no reasoning with some people.
Call them a tradwife. Are they a tradwife? Irrelevant.
With all these tools in your arsenal, you are now well-equipped to fight the horde of vile corset apologists online. Remember: It's Only Real Oppression If The Oppressed Group Is Miserable 24/7!
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