#sorry this is so long i just can’t help but give my opinions…..like i need u to know what i think…. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

florawrites-blog · 4 months ago

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Mother.....- enhypen

-When the calm girlfriend finally snaps

Lee heeseung - 이희승

The evening had started like any other, with you calmly going about your routine, trying to unwind after a long day. But as you walked into the living room, the sight of the mess Heeseung had left behind—after you'd asked him countless times to clean it up—stopped you in your tracks.

The clutter was everywhere: dishes piled up on the coffee table, clothes strewn across the couch, and random items scattered on the floor. You could feel the familiar tightening in your chest, the overstimulation building up like a pressure cooker. You had always been calm, collected, the one who kept things together, but tonight, it was too much.

“Heeseung!” you called out, your voice strained as you tried to keep it together. He emerged from the bedroom, his usual carefree smile on his face, oblivious to the storm brewing in you.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, glancing around the room without a second thought.

That was the breaking point. All the frustration, the countless times you’d asked him to clean up, the overwhelming mess—it all came crashing down at once.

“Why is this still here?” you snapped, your voice sharp and louder than you intended. “I’ve asked you so many times to clean this up, and it’s like you don’t even care! Do you know how exhausting it is to come home to this every single day? I can’t handle this anymore!”

Heeseung stood frozen in place, eyes wide with shock. He had never seen you like this—never heard your voice raised in anger. You could see the fear and surprise in his expression, and it only made the guilt begin to creep in, but you couldn’t stop now. The words just kept pouring out.

“I try so hard to keep this place together, to make it comfortable for both of us, and you can’t even pick up after yourself? I’m so tired of having to clean up your messes, and you just…you just ignore it like it doesn’t matter!” You could feel your hands shaking, the overstimulation making everything feel too loud, too much.

Heeseung’s face softened, his usual confident demeanor faltering as he took a hesitant step toward you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize it was bothering you this much,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to calm the storm inside you. The sight of him standing there, looking so vulnerable and unsure, made the anger ebb away, leaving behind only exhaustion and regret.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just…I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m sorry, Heeseung.”

Heeseung quickly closed the distance between you, gently wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ve been careless, and I should’ve listened when you asked. I never wanted to make you feel like this.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body as his warmth surrounded you. “I just need you to help me, okay?” you said softly, your voice still trembling slightly. “I can’t do everything on my own.”

He nodded against you, his hold on you tightening. “I promise, I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel this way again.”

For a moment, you both just stood there, holding each other in the middle of the mess, the anger and frustration giving way to a quiet understanding. You knew that things wouldn’t be perfect, but at least now, he understood how much it meant to you. And that was a start.

Park jongseong - 박종성

You had always been known as the quiet one, the one who handled things with grace, never letting anything ruffle your feathers. Even Jay, who knew you better than anyone, had never seen you truly lose your temper. But today was different.

You were out with some of your high school friends, a group that had always been a little too opinionated for your taste. Jay had tagged along, more than happy to spend time with you, even if it meant being around people he didn’t know too well. The day had started off fine, but as the conversation progressed, it took a turn that you could feel brewing for a while.

One of the girls, who had always had a knack for saying the wrong things, began bringing up some old, unnecessary information about your close friend Nudsie. They were poking fun at things that were clearly uncomfortable for her, laughing at memories that should have stayed buried. Nudsie, ever the good sport, laughed along with them, but you could see the strain in her eyes, the way she was forcing herself to stay composed.

Something snapped inside you.

You could feel the anger bubbling up, a rare and unfamiliar sensation for you. Normally, you would let things slide, brush off the comments, but not today. Today, you weren’t going to let them get away with it.

“Do you ever think before you speak?” you interrupted, your voice calm but carrying an edge that made the group go silent. The girls turned to you, surprised by the sudden shift in your tone. “Because it’s really starting to seem like you don’t.”

They blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in your words. You didn’t raise your voice, didn’t cause a scene, but the intensity behind your calm demeanor was enough to make them freeze in place.

“Nudsie has been nothing but kind to all of you, and this is how you repay her? By dragging up things that should’ve been left in the past? You might think it’s funny, but it’s not. It’s hurtful, and frankly, it’s immature. If you’re so bored with your own lives that you have to dig up others’ pasts to entertain yourselves, then maybe you should focus on improving yourselves instead.”

You could see the discomfort in their faces, the way they shifted in their seats, unable to meet your gaze. The silence that followed was deafening. They had no comeback, no defense—just awkward, guilty expressions.

Jay, who had been watching the whole exchange, was surprised but also impressed. He had never seen you like this, and as much as it caught him off guard, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He hid a smirk behind his hand, knowing this wasn’t the time to show his amusement.

The girls mumbled weak apologies, clearly too shaken to continue with their usual banter. They avoided eye contact with you, their earlier bravado completely gone.

You took a deep breath, the anger slowly ebbing away as you turned your attention back to Nudsie, who looked both relieved and touched by your defense. “Are you okay?” you asked her softly, your tone completely different from the one you had just used.

She nodded, giving you a small, grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.”

You nodded back, feeling the tension in your shoulders finally ease. As you turned to Jay, you found him watching you with a mixture of admiration and pride, his eyes shining with affection.

He leaned in closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he teased, his lips curling into a smile.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t help but smile back. “It takes a lot to get me there,” you replied, your voice softening. “But some things are worth standing up for.”

Jay reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his tone sincere.

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of calm return. The moment had passed, and you were back to being your composed self, but now Jay had seen a side of you he never knew existed—a side that made him admire you even more.

Sim jaeyun -심재윤

You had a long day, running errands that seemed to drag on forever. All you wanted was to come home, relax, and get ready for the evening. You had asked Jake to do one simple thing—just one—so you wouldn’t have to worry about it when you got back: the laundry. He had agreed, of course, always the obedient and loving boyfriend, eager to help out.

But when you opened the door to the laundry room, your jaw dropped.

The entire room was filled with foam, spilling out of the washing machine and spreading across the floor. The machine itself was making a strange, gurgling noise, clearly on the brink of breaking down entirely. And in the middle of it all stood Jake, staring at the chaos with wide, dumbfounded eyes.

You just stood there for a moment, taking in the disaster before you. Your patience, which had already been worn thin by the frustrating errands you had to deal with, finally snapped. The clothes you needed to wear tonight were now soaking in a sea of foam, and the laundry room looked like a scene out of a sitcom gone horribly wrong.

“Jake!” you snapped, your voice louder than you intended, startling him out of his daze. “Be so fucking for real—what the fuck happened here?!”

Jake blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words to explain. “I—I don’t know, I just… I followed the instructions and—”

But before he could finish, you cut him off, the anger bubbling up and spilling over. “I better get a good explanation because this is insane! I’ve had the worst day, and now I come home to this?!”

Jake looked like a deer caught in headlights, clearly shocked by your outburst. He’d never seen you lose your temper like this. You were always so calm, so collected, but this—this was a side of you he didn’t know existed.

And it scared him.

In a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation, Jake immediately dropped to his knees, his eyes wide and pleading. “I’m sorry, mother—I mean, Y/N—I don’t even have an explanation,” he stuttered, his voice trembling slightly. “I—I must have done something wrong, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad!”

The sight of him on his knees, so panicked and remorseful, broke through your anger just enough to make you realize how ridiculous this whole situation was. The absurdity of it all—the foam-filled room, Jake’s panicked apology—was almost too much. You felt the last bit of your rage dissipate, leaving you standing there, half-exasperated, half-amused.

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair as you looked at him, still on his knees, clearly terrified of your reaction. “Jake, get up,” you said, your voice softening as you tried to reign in your temper. “I’m not going to kill you.”

He hesitated, glancing up at you cautiously. “Are you… are you sure?” he asked, his voice small.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. The situation was so absurd, so unlike anything you’d ever imagined dealing with, that all you could do was laugh. “Yes, Jake, I’m sure. I’m mad, but I’m not going to kill you.”

Relieved, Jake slowly got to his feet, still looking a bit sheepish. “I’m really sorry,” he said again, his tone sincere. “I have no idea what went wrong. I must have used too much detergent or something.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite everything. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious,” you replied, glancing at the foamy disaster still covering the room. “But we’ll figure it out. Just… maybe let’s avoid you doing laundry for a while, okay?”

Jake nodded quickly, his usual confidence completely replaced by a mixture of guilt and relief. “Absolutely. Never touching the washing machine again,” he promised, a nervous laugh escaping him.

You sighed again, but this time, it was more out of exhaustion than anger. “Alright, let’s clean this up before it gets any worse,” you said, rolling up your sleeves and preparing to tackle the mess.

Jake immediately jumped to help, still eager to make up for his mistake. As you both worked to clean up the foam, he couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, still amazed by what he had just witnessed.

You caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He shook his head, a smirk finally breaking through his guilt. “Nothing, just… you’re kind of scary when you’re mad, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you don’t see that side of me too often.”

Jake grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Deal.”

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

You and Sunghoon were on the couch, attempting to have a relaxing evening together. He had the soccer match on, and you could tell he was fully invested. But as the game went on, he started to get a little too invested. Every time his team missed a shot or the opposing team got too close to scoring, he’d smack your thigh—hard.

At first, you brushed it off. It was just his way of expressing his excitement, and you were used to his quirks. After all, you had your own—like when you would bite his biceps out of nowhere just to see his reaction. But as the minutes ticked by and the smacks got stronger, it started to wear on you.

“Sunghoon,” you mumbled, shifting away slightly. But he was feeling uncharacteristically clingy tonight, and no matter where you moved, he followed, his focus still on the game.

Another smack landed on your thigh, this one even harder than before. You winced, feeling the sting. It was starting to feel less like playful taps and more like someone had whacked you with a heated building block. You tried to stay calm, but the next hit pushed you over the edge.

“Sunghoon, I swear to god,” you snapped, your voice laced with irritation, “if you lay your fingers on me one more goddamn time, I will take every single one of your fingers, cut them off with a smile on my face, cook them, then serve them to you on a plate and feed them to you.”

Sunghoon froze, his hand halfway in the air, eyes wide in shock. He turned to look at you, completely speechless, his mouth slightly agape as he processed what you’d just said. He knew you could get feisty, but this was on another level. The intensity in your eyes made it clear that you were dead serious, and he quickly realized he had crossed a line.

For a moment, the room was silent, the sound of the game still playing in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it anymore. Sunghoon slowly lowered his hand, his pride and confidence suddenly shrinking under your fiery gaze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You sighed, the anger slowly dissipating as you saw the look of remorse on his face. “Just… be more careful, okay? I know you get into the game, but I’m not a punching bag.”

Sunghoon nodded quickly, scooting closer to you again, but this time with more care. “I promise, no more smacking,” he said, trying to make up for it by wrapping an arm around your shoulder gently, as if you were a fragile piece of glass.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his sudden change in demeanor. “You better keep that promise, or you’re going to have to figure out how to play soccer without fingers.”

He chuckled nervously, leaning down to plant a kiss on your temple. “Deal,” he whispered, pulling you closer as he turned his attention back to the game, but this time making sure to keep his hands far away from your thighs.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You had always admired Sunoo’s dedication to his career, his meticulous attention to every detail of his life, especially when it came to his health and appearance. But lately, his obsession with this new diet had been pushing you to the edge. He was cutting back on meals, skipping out on food that he usually enjoyed, and it was driving you crazy. You respected his choices, but this was too much.

Today, however, you’d had enough. You found him in the kitchen, making yet another bland, low-calorie meal, and something inside you snapped.

“Sunoo, we need to talk,” you said, your voice tense as you walked up to him.

He looked up, surprised by the tone in your voice. “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting down the plate he was holding.

“What’s wrong?” you echoed, your voice rising in frustration. “What’s wrong is that you’ve been on this ridiculous diet for weeks now, and it’s not healthy! You’re not eating enough, and it’s driving me insane! I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself anymore, Sunoo!”

Sunoo blinked, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. He’d never seen you this upset before, not with him. He knew you were worried, but he hadn’t realized just how much it was affecting you.

“But I’m just trying to—” he started to explain, but you cut him off, your anger bubbling over.

“No! No more excuses!” you said, your voice firm as you stood in front of him, your eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern. “This diet is not okay, Sunoo. You’re hurting yourself, and it’s breaking my heart to watch you do this. I care about you too much to let you keep going like this.”

Sunoo’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the floor, his usual bright energy nowhere to be seen. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he realized how much his actions had been affecting you. He’d been so focused on his own goals that he hadn’t considered how his behavior was impacting the people who cared about him—especially you.

He didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there, pouting slightly, his gaze fixed on the ground. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but your heart was still pounding in your chest. “Sunoo, I love you,” you said, your voice softer now. “But this has to stop. You’re perfect the way you are, and you don’t need to do this to yourself. Please, promise me you’ll stop this diet.”

Sunoo looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and remorse. He knew you were right, and he hated seeing you this upset. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Then promise me,” you insisted, your tone gentle but firm. “Promise me you’ll stop.”

Sunoo nodded slowly, the weight of his promise settling heavily on his shoulders. “I promise,” he said quietly, finally meeting your gaze. “I’ll stop.”

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body. You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you,” you whispered against his shoulder. “I just want you to be healthy and happy.”

Sunoo hugged you back, holding you close. “I will be,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. He knew he had a lot to work on, but with you by his side, he knew he could do it.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

You loved Jungwon more than anything. He was kind, thoughtful, and always knew how to make you smile. But there was one thing that drove you absolutely insane—his obsession with mukbang videos. It wasn’t just a casual interest; he would play them at any given moment, whether you were eating, cuddling, or just trying to relax. Normally, you’d let it slide because, well, it made him happy. But tonight was different. You were PMSing, already feeling irritable and craving a bit of comfort, but instead of the soothing presence of your boyfriend, you were greeted with the obnoxious sound of someone slurping noodles on full blast.

As you entered the living room, there he was—your big dork of a boyfriend, sitting in front of the TV with a plate of food in front of him, grinning ear to ear as the mukbang video played. The sound of exaggerated chewing and slurping filled the room, making your skin crawl. You tried to push through it, telling yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, but the longer it went on, the more unbearable it became. The misophonia you suffered from flared up, and every sound felt like a personal attack on your sanity.

“Jungwon,” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady, but the irritation was evident.

He didn’t seem to notice your tone, too engrossed in the video. “Yeah?” he replied, not even turning to look at you, his eyes glued to the screen.

That was it. The last straw. You couldn’t take it anymore. “Jungwon, I swear to God, if you don’t stop that stupid video right now, I might as well unplug the TV, kick you out, and throw the TV out with you!”

Jungwon’s eyes widened in shock as he finally turned to face you, his expression dumbfounded. He’d never heard you this angry before, especially not over something as seemingly harmless as a video. But seeing the genuine frustration in your eyes, he immediately realized how serious you were.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly grabbing the remote and pausing the video. The room fell into blessed silence, and he looked at you with wide, apologetic eyes. “I didn’t know it was bothering you that much.”

You let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing now that the noise was gone. “It’s just… I can’t deal with it right now, especially tonight. I need a little sympathy, not more noise.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, and he immediately moved to sit beside you on the couch. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “Here, you can have my food. I’ll turn off the TV, and we can just relax together.”

You looked up at him, your irritation fading as you saw the concern in his eyes. He really hadn’t meant any harm, and now that you’d gotten your frustration out, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for snapping at him. But Jungwon wasn’t upset; if anything, he looked relieved that he could make it right.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, accepting his offer and taking a bite of his food. It tasted even better knowing he cared enough to listen to you.

Jungwon smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Anything for you,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. And with that, he settled beside you, the two of you finding comfort in each other’s presence, with no mukbang videos in sight.

Ni- ki -남편

You and Ni-ki had just returned home from what felt like the longest, most exhausting day ever. Every part of your body ached, and all you wanted to do was collapse into bed and drift off to sleep. Ni-ki, however, had other plans. Despite having gone through the same grueling day as you, he seemed completely unfazed as he immediately made a beeline for his PlayStation. It was his go-to stress relief, and as much as you loved him, you couldn’t understand how he had the energy to play after a day like this.

You tried to ignore it, convincing yourself that you could sleep through the sounds of his game. But as soon as you started drifting off, the loud, agitating sound of the PlayStation starting up filled the room, followed by the unmistakable noise of gunfire and explosions. You groaned, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over your head.

But then came the worst part—Ni-ki’s screams. Each time he lost, he let out these deep, guttural growls that seemed to shake the room. His voice, usually comforting, was now the most irritating sound in the world. You pressed a pillow over your head, trying to block out the noise, but it was no use. The sounds seeped through, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Niki, scream one more time. I dare you,” you muttered, your voice muffled by the pillow but still laced with irritation.

He thought you were joking, so he let out another loud yell when he lost the next round. That was it. You sat up, grabbed the nearest pillow, and threw it directly at his head. It hit him squarely, and he turned around, eyes wide in surprise, as he pulled off his headset.

“If I even hear you breathe right now, Ni-ki,” you snapped, your voice low and deadly serious, “I will dig my hands so deep in your throat and snatch your voice box out. Let’s see how you’ll be able to scream again at 3 a.m. in the morning. Ni-ki, don’t test me.”

Ni-ki’s eyes widened even more, and for a moment, he was completely speechless. He’d never seen you this upset before, and it shocked him to his core. He quickly realized you were not in the mood for jokes or more noise.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” he mumbled, quickly turning off the PlayStation and sitting down quietly beside you, looking at you like a scolded puppy.

You let out a heavy sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away now that the room was finally quiet. “Thank you,” you muttered, lying back down and pulling the covers over yourself again.

Ni-ki slid under the covers beside you, cautiously wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

You softened at his words, and though you were still a bit frustrated, you appreciated his apology. “Just… no more games this late, okay? I really need to sleep.”

“I promise,” he repeated, holding you close as you finally started to relax. The two of you drifted off to sleep, with no more interruptions, and the only sound left in the room was the quiet, steady rhythm of Ni-ki’s breathing as he cuddled up to you.

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luludeluluramblings · 4 months ago

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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

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daemour · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be nice.”

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer me, YN.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year ago

Note

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

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blueteller · 12 days ago

Note

I found this on reddit it's not my opinion but it's kind of funny and disconcerting.

What do you think?

( https://www.reddit.com/r/CharacterRant/s/uwKw63Cgoc )

"A rant on Trash of the Count’s Family

Alright before I begin I would like to preface by saying that I am a long time reader of the novel and love this novel to death. It kept me company during my darkest and lowest points of my life and I am forever grateful for it !

The rant also in no way affects the brilliance of the story. With that out of the way here it goes:

This is an amazing fantasy novel filled with great visuals, writing, story and top-notch characters. However it has TWO big problems that broke the story smooth sailing for me and I need to rant about it because where I am from I am pretty sure no one reads TCF in a 6000 mile radius.

One big problem was the romance. THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NONE OF IT. This is not a problem if the main character doesn’t want romance (he doesn’t nope) but NONE of the main/side characters that has been introduced so far also want nothing to do with romance. It was a little awkward to read the story based in medieval setting where characters are as pure as angels as they come.

Now, you can of course raise the point that romance was never the main focus of this novel (it’s not even a background focus or some D plot) but let’s analyse this novel here for a second okay? This novel is very gore and never ever shy away from very dark themes or stories.

- The main protagonist of the story (sorry forgot his name it’s been a long time) has his entire village with whom he has spent 20 years murdered and burned to ashes, all the men women and children are totally dead.

- The Prince story is also pretty dark and deals with some adult themes about race and identity.

- The dragon raon (is that the name?) backstory is…holy shit some hardcore torture and let’s not forget the revenge torture that happened later with raon eating steak.

- The butler and his butcher son

- The absolute crazy HUMAN EXPERIMENT arc that was happening in the Empire. I mean holy shit they really went into crazy detail about body mutilation and the scientists are absolute psychopaths in how they love their job.

And I am just scratching the surface about how dark this novel is and there’s plenty of it. The point is that it is very adult oriented novel with these stories but on the flip side their romance department is so negligible that even Tom and Jerry had more romance than this.

It actively avoids it like a plague. Why is this an issue? Let me explain.

Simple answer it feels a little jarring or disorienting when you read the novel like going back and forth between watching the looney tunes movie and switching immediately back to a Black Mirror episode.

But I have to give where credit is due. I didn’t notice the romance problem until after some 500+ chapters later (that’s how good the novel story is ) and how did I notice it?

After some battle trying to reclaim the south (north?) tower and this is the part where the Empire’s royalty is on the brink of collapse the redhead girl (I also forgot her name but she is part of the main gang) is extremely tired after a long battle and Cale tries to help her by giving her some healing potions (remember at this point she is the only female character that understands Cale the most and their relationship is the most developed of all) but she says she is so tired she can’t even lift her arms, so Cale (as logic would have it) offers to feed her the potion himself (see completely logical under the circumstances) but Raon the dragon out of nowhere says, “You are too weak Cale! Let me do it”. And I am like…say what? We know the main gang always comments that Cale is weak and all but come on guys we know he isn’t and in fact he’s been through crazy shit. During that battle he never had to fight and was in top condition so that remark from raon made even more less sense.

And then the redhead laughed it off and said “it’s okay I will do it myself” and she does…after a bit of struggle to lift the said bottle.

It’s a small thing but it did break my immersion (it was already broken before, I will explain later). It forced me as a reader to actually “think” about the author intentions something that should never happen when reading a fantasy novel. And it made me go “hmm wait a minute” and then I reflected back on all the 500+ chapters I have read and I came to a realisation that…forget main character romance there is hardly any romance of any proportions from any and every character in this whole novel! It was so impossibly impossible that it teared through the immersion completely.

The second reason for this rant and this is connected to when my immersion showed a small crack. And this reason is purely a preference thing so feel free to ignore this as you want.

I personally believe that when you make a “reborn in a fantasy world” story you absolutely must never collide “our” world with the fantasy world.

Don’t do that.

From page 1 you are setting up this fantasy life, fantasy way of living and thinking, fantasy people, fantasy stories and most importantly a fantasy you. Don’t break this immersion by literally making the world he (Cale) came from an integral part of the story.

When the main protagonist found out who Cale really is and confronted him about it by listing some Korean food items I was a little disappointed because it felt like a parent telling a child that role playing as a prince and over now put the castle made of pillows back in place and do your homework for school tomorrow.

Maybe it’s just a me thing but after that confrontation, every time Cale interacted with anyone be it the redhead, his dragon, butler or anyone it all felt so plastic and fake, like I was overly conscious of the fact that this is a fantasy land filled with fantasy people and well…it made me feel a little lonely."

Wow, this is quite interesting! Thanks for sending me this. Not because I agree – anyone who knows anything about my opinions on TCF would know that the very 2 points that the author of this post has "problems with" are the things that I embrace with great enthusiasm.

So, prepare for a long ride!

First of all, let me make this absolutely clear, the same way this person did at the beginning of their own post; they are allowed to have their own opinion on what they like or dislike. The same way I am allowed to like or dislike certain elements of stories. I don't claim that TCF is a flawless work either – it's just that all the flaws it does have, at least to me, are so minor I don't care about them in the slightest.

I might actually be "brave enough" in the future to actually make my own post about the "flaws" of the story for me, no matter how few. But not today. Today, let's focus on the reddit post.

Now, imagine a person (the author of this post) is given an apple pie in a restaurant.

This person very much enjoys apple pies. They continue to visit the same restaurant and keep ordering this apple pie. But after a while, they discover "two big problems" with the apple pie.

First of all, it does not contain cinnamon. So this person is like – why not! That is, they did not notice before, but it is SO jarring to them now that they know! Because they believe all apple pies should contain cinnamon. Secondly, this apple pie is made out of a species of apples they do not like. In fact, they are convinced this apple species is not fit for apple pies! So, they quit ordering apple pies at this restaurant.

Meanwhile, there's a second regular customer (me) who orders the apple pie at this restaurant. This customer, in fact, is kind of sick of cinnamon. They were so happy they discovered a restaurant that doesn't use it! This person also notices this apple pie has a very interesting texture to it, one they very much enjoy, because of the specific apple species this restaurant uses. It quickly became their all-time favorite dessert.

Obviously, neither customer here is wrong. "The customer is always right in matters of taste" is a saying for a reason (although people usually say only the first half of it, forgetting the second part), and just because I love the "apple pie" in question, I am not going to shame the other person for their own taste.

With all that said, please allow me to address to the post properly, step by step.

First, when addressing the lack of romance as a problem, this is this person's argument: they list major dark moments in the story, like Choi Han's village getting massacred, dark race racism, Raon's torture et cetera. Then they say, "The point is that it is very adult oriented novel with these stories but on the flip side their romance department is so negligible that even Tom and Jerry had more romance than this".

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe… Tom and Jerry had any romance either. That cartoon did not even have dialogue. So like, huh??? What kind of argument is that? Should I say that Tom and Jerry has a critical flaw that is has no talking despite being all about comedy? That it would have been better if it was dubbed or something? Well, there was that one movie I remember from childhood but – never mind, we're getting off track here. This argument kind of, completely falls flat for me.

I get the implication. "TCF is has so many dark themes, it should be mature enough to contain romance as well". Which is, completely off the mark for me, personally. Maturity and romance have NOTHING to do with each other.

There's also the statement that "It actively avoids [romance] like a plague." And I agree, kind of. This story avoids romance on purpose. But It never felt unnatural for me. I was kind of expecting it to pop up eventually, back when I first started reading. I thought for SURE Rosalyn would be somebody's love interest – because she had to be, right?? But it gradually dawned on me that there are so many cool, pretty, strong, independent female characters… And none of them are representing a specific fetish or exist solely to be somebody's wifu. The women are PEOPLE, they are fleshed-out, complex characters who have goals and ambitions and just like for the men, there is no thought about romance here because there is so much going on – most of it world-ending, in fact – that focusing in romance would actually DECREASE the maturity of the story instead of enhancing it.

The author of the post said, "It was so impossibly impossible that it teared through the immersion completely". What, do you need characters getting laid to be truly realistic mature adults or something? I think you have the wrong idea about adulthood… Let me say it again, those people are too busy in this story to focus on dating. Even if Cale himself wasn't so obviously ace, his life has been so crazy since he transmigrated, I have no idea HOW on earth he could have found the time (or anyone else for that matter: just look at poor Alberu, swimming in paperwork 24/7!). He can't even sleep for more than 4 hours per day during the war arc. What I personally would find jarring is exactly this: characters trying to freaking date or play off romantic subplots while the world was LITERALLY GETTING DESTROYED. That would have been so petty and ridiculous.

So, the expectation that there HAS to be romance, just because… I think it is a faulty expectation to have in the first place. And it is NOT unnatural that the characters don't do romance (especially with how many species there are among the cast and the age gaps between them, it would have been awkward to say the least; unless you're the type to like Twilight style of romance). The story put a lot of focus to forge familial bonds between the characters. It doesn't lack in the relationship department, just non-platonic one. And if this is a problem for someone and they find it jarring, well… Again, no cinnamon in apple pie, I guess.

Next, we have the argument that "when you read the novel like going back and forth between watching the looney tunes movie and switching immediately back to a Black Mirror episode". I don't know Black Mirror, but I get it. The author of the post claims that the comedic character interactions – the ones that had been very well established in the first 200 chapters of the story, covering full 2 years in the timeline – are… what, unrealistic? Inaccurate? Cartoonish? I’m not 100% sure what the exact issue is here.

They quote a scene where I assume Rosalyn is too tired to lift her arms and Cale offers to help and Raon says he's too weak and let him do it instead. The author of the post then acts confused, as if it was completely unreasonable, because Cale is not weak. Um…. I don't know if they were not paying attention, but that's just false. Cale is PHYSICALLY weak, despite all his Ancient Powers. That is exactly the whole reason why he keeps coughing blood and fainting and stuff. So it was funny, and in-character, and fitting with the rest of the story – at least in my opinion. If that broke this person's immersion, then fine I guess, but I really don't see the reason. I guess they don't enjoy the "texture" of this "apple pie".

Speaking of texture, the last point pf the post I want to address: the belief that you should not mix "real world" and fantasy. They say, "I personally believe that when you make a "reborn in a fantasy world" story you absolutely must never collide "our" world with the fantasy world. Don't do that". Excuse me, but uh… why? That is not the case at all, for many stories? I mean, you could approach it that way, nothing wrong with keeping it separate. But most classic isekai examples usually stray from that idea, actually. Are you familiar with Chronicles of Narnia, by any chance? Did you know that the magical lamppost that Lucy found in the woods actually came from England? It was a very fun bit of backstory from the Magician's Nephew.

"Don't break this immersion by literally making the world he (Cale) came from an integral part of the story." Why not, man??? It was so brilliantly done! In fact, it was so freaking cool, the way TCF did it! What, is "our world" so boring and terrible you must keep it separate from the fantasy at any cost? It was plot relevant, it gave Cale legit ties to the new world, it fleshed out his character, it was incredible! 10/10! If TCF lost that element, it would have been a great loss.

And even if you don't like the mixing of "fantasy and reality" as something "immersion breaking"… there is one problem with this kind of argument, in TCF at least.

Kim Rok Soo is NOT FROM OUR REALITY.

Let me repeat: the man is not from regular, modern Korea! HE IS FROM A FANTASY MONSTER APOCALYPSE DIMENSION!

The whole reveal of what kind of place KRS comes from is what make this story so good to me. It was an incredible twist. The "regular, normal man from modern world" was a red herring meant to hide the fact that he was an ability user from what is basically a superhero world full of monsters! It is not! Regular! Modern! World!!!

"When the main protagonist found out who Cale really is and confronted him about it by listing some Korean food items I was a little disappointed because it felt like a parent telling a child that role playing as a prince and over now put the castle made of pillows back in place and do your homework for school tomorrow." That… you really, REALLY missed the point here, man. That was not the vibe of the scene at all! Choi Han and Cale are both essentially war veterans, mentioning foods from their childhood! This the "Frodo and Sam talking about the flavor of strawberries from Shire at the foot of Mount Doom" from Lord of the Rings type of moment! Only, well, a bit more comedic. Still, it was so touching!! But, well… again, you don't like the taste of the pie, there is nothing I can do about it.

And lastly, there was this paragraph at the end of the post:

"Maybe it's just a me thing but after that confrontation, every time Cale interacted with anyone be it the redhead, his dragon, butler or anyone it all felt so plastic and fake, like I was overly conscious of the fact that this is a fantasy land filled with fantasy people and well… it made me feel a little lonely."

I never noticed such a thing. I do not know if more people felt that way. But I always thought that the characters were well-established and their behavior natural. I am sorry that the immersion break made the author of the post lonely. I hope they can spend time with their friends and feel a little better. Fantasy shouldn't just be a tool to "fill an empty void in your life and escape terrible reality". For me, stories are meant to create something beautiful, to inspire, and to make one consider the possibilities of reality. I mean, if Cale can stop world-ending threats by being brave and making good strategies, why can't I handle the minor problems that reality has to offer? It's all a matter of perspective.

So, that is it. That's my whole response. I hope it satisfies you! Have a great day!

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of count's family #q&a #replies #tcf meta

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garoujo · 2 years ago

Text

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU ; — your plug geto thinks you’re more addictive than anything he’s ever tried.

warnings: f!reader, plug!geto, weed use, shot gunning (i’ll never stop), honestly i still get so nervous writing him cause i’m not too happy w my characterisation but i rly wanted to write this idea, half proof-read & v messy! note: sorry but he lives in my mind rent free <3

the knock on the door was telling to who it was before you answered, not that you were expecting anyone else at almost 1am, but you still think he seemed to get unfairly more attractive everytime you greeted him in your doorway.

your plug, geto suguru, was too attractive actually — half of his dark hair typed back but it still remains messy enough to frame his pretty features. he was dressed in nothing but sweats and an oversized hoodie, finished off with a just as oversized jacket that just fit him perfectly and you’re pretty sure he’s used to his.. clientele drooling over him at this point when the smile he offers you is a little teasing but still kind.

“hm, can i come in, pretty girl?” the pet name was like honey between his teeth, like it was easy as he takes a careful step into your apartment but his eyes are still on you when he turns to meet you, tilting his head as he lets his gaze trail along your skin.

“did you bring it?”

“mhm.”

but geto can’t deny that among all of his clients you’re his favourite — always so willing to smoke out his new stock with him because hes always oh so eager to hear your opinion, to feel it when your pussy is stretched around the weight of his cock because he knows that alone will tell him all he needs.

he always gives you an adoring look as he waits for your words, cool metal of his rings palming at your ass as he holds the joint out to you with the other — his own gaze is lidded and drowsy but it’s still on you when you lean into catch the end between your lips. your pouty lips kiss the pad of his fingers lightly and he spreads your cheeks before he offers you a deep, languid thrust that makes you twitch — almost choke as he watches you inhale with his lower lip between his teeth and a crooked grin.

“careful.” geto drawls deliberately as he lets his head tilt to the side again, followed by a breathless croon of a chuckle when you cast him a frown as he watches you inhale. but he thinks you’re like an angel when your blown out gaze meets his before you lean back, half-lidded as you hold the smoke between your lips and let him see the way your pretty tits bounce with the next intoxicating twist of your hips.

“feels like you like this one. fuck, y’re sensitive.” he grunts as he lets his free hand swipe tentatively over your clit — making your rocking body tremble with a mixture of want and need as you all but melt into him. your mind feels like it’s full of cotton and the way he makes your insides curl and ache everytime he sinks his cock into you is only heightened by the new strain.

another addictive bounce along the length of geto’s cock makes your head roll back until you’re exhaling, and he takes a long draw of the joint between his own smirking lips before his hand squeezes at your hips. “mhm~ ‘ts so good, sugu.” you answer eventually and he can’t help the way one side of his grin seems to stretch wider as he offers you a slow blink with his next smokey breath.

“shit, look so fuckin’ pretty when you say it like that.” his name he means because even despite the weed he can’t help the way you make him feel lightheaded, eager for more as he meets every eager roll of your hips with one of his own just so he can feel the way you squeeze harder around him the deeper he goes.

the smoke of geto’s exhale curls into the room and you let your head roll forward to watch it before you offer him a drowsy blink. you feel fuzzy — like your mouth is suddenly dry and your body feels heavy despite how easy you seem to be dragging yourself along his cock. the tingling along your limbs is only exaggerated by how perfectly the blunt head is gliding along your swollen spots and it makes you bear down on him eagerly as he helps you bounce on his lap.

“look at you.” he grits as he lets his large palm graze between the valley of your breasts before he takes a slow, languid handful to squeeze and you feel his praise drip through you before you giggle.

“‘ts just the weed.”

“nah, you’re jus’ beautiful.” geto’s reply is honest despite the way its slightly muffled by the blunt being placed back between his lips, letting the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he’s pulling you closer. you let your fingers graze underneath the oversized neckline of his hoodie as you sway forward, scratching along the ivory skin before he trembles and you offer him a pretty, starry-eyed look before you grin.

“awww, am i your favourite?” it’s meant playfully, but he’s so hypnotised by the way your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your slow blink that he can’t help but draw you in before he answers. your fingers naturally twist in his dark hair as he kisses you and his gruff sigh is accompanied by the heat of his exhale when his previous draw floods your mouth, letting you inhale the smokey breath instinctively as your chest presses closer against his.

you’re much too enthralled by the dreamy tightness in your chest that only geto seems to give you that you can barely remember your question. but he lets you lose yourself in him as he grinds up into your warm pussy, his tongue gliding along your own until you feel like your melting from where he’s got you held tight in his lap before he pulls away to peck at your swollen lips.

“thought that much was obvious, pretty girl.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#cw weed #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

Text

His Home | Adam Fantilli

summary: it’s Adam’s birthday and his debut in the NHL, little does he know you’re there watching

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.

word count: 3.07k

authors note: welcome back to what I like to call, kei told me not to behave (soft edition?). I’m kidding (sorta) this is a really different to what I usually write because it had a bit of angst in it? The first bit of regular italics are from the Adam birthday video that the bluejackets did and the second is a regular flashback!

It was the clip Adam loved rewatching the most.

You were sat in your dorm in his hoodie and his hat (a detail that only he would pick up on) as you smiled “hey baby!” You smiled as you looked at your phone “now I’ve tried redoing this like eight times now.” You confessed letting out a little laugh.

The picture of Adam on draft night that you had taken after you two snuck out to Dairy Queen stared back at you “I keep on crying and you really don’t need to see me get all snotty again.” You shook your head as the pile of tissues on your bed was beginning to build.

Adam couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as you nervously thought about what it was that you wanted to say “point is I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” You two started dating in October of freshman year and you swore you’d kill him before he broke up with you with before trying long distance “I miss you and I love you.” You confessed wiping your cheek as another tear fell.

As you sucked at your cheek smiling unaware that Adam was doing the same thing “you’re gonna smash it tonight, so happy birthday and play your little heart out there.”

You brought your fingers up to your lips “I’m so proud of you my star.” The video ended as your kissed fingers pressed against the camera ending the video like you did all of your FaceTime calls that you had with him.

Honestly Adam was surprised that he wasn’t sick of that video anymore with the amount of times that he had replayed it “sorry she can’t be here tonight.” Kent knew how upset Adam was that you were unable to make it to his first game.

What was the actual twist of the knife was that you hadn’t responded to anything on all platforms and went as far as to turn your locations off on everything “I just don’t remember making her mad.” Adam sighed as he frowned looking at his lock screen that was a picture of you two in front of the yost one evening.

You were in your Fantilli jersey and he had his arms wrapped around you as he kissed your head “she’s probably just stressed with that class you said she was taking.” Kent shrugged trying to keep a straight face.

The whole team had come together to plan this. The only thing that could possibly be making you stressed right now was the fact that you were trying to not get caught in Columbus.

Yes, the boys convinced you to change around some things as they felt like you being there was the birthday and debut gift that money truly couldn’t buy “I guess you’re right.”

Thankfully for you, Adam never noticed that you were there as you sat far away from his parents and family.

The game ended in a win and Adam was even able to get some points on the board so it was safe to say that you were all excited about more than just the win.

Wanting to give him some time with his family you stayed hidden for a bit mainly getting to know more of his teammates “you know he’s clueless about this right?” Kent smiled as he saw the excited look on your face.

Adam knew it probably sounded terrible but as he listened to his dad’s opinions about the game he couldn’t help it as his eyes wondered off to find you.

His brain hoped that by some divine act you were actually there.

And that was when he saw you.

Well not you, actually the top of your head “shut up!” Adam let out a gasp causing you to turn around in his direction.

Both of you had grins on your faces and tears forming in your eyes “w-what are you doing here?” He asked quickly pushing past people to making sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

As your flowery perfume pushed into his nostrils he knew that you were really there “couldn’t not be here tonight.” You mumbled holding your arms out as he pulled you into a hug.

Usually you would have groaned at how sweaty he was but today you just loved feeling him against you “happy birthday my love.” You smiled looking up at him before you placed a kiss on the hockey players lips “how long are you here for?” The hockey player wanted you there for as long as possible “fly out on Sunday my love.” So that basically meant that you had three whole days with him as well as another game to watch.

At this point the cameras had turned away wanting to give you and Adam the moment in private or at least as private as it could be for being stood out in the open “go get showered and then we can all catch up.” Julia proposed looking at her son as she wrapped her arm around you.

You had gotten to know his parents over the summer and nothing made them happier than seeing the smile on their sons face whenever he looked at you.

So you knew that you were going to sound bad when you thought about this because as fun as it was getting to catch up with Adam’s family and watch him smile as he interacted with his parents.

What you truly wanted was to be with him on the couch talking like you used to.

The Michigan air was cold around Ann Arbor but that wasn’t something you and Adam were complaining about.

No instead you two were comfortably on the couch in your dorm as your roommate was in a class “what are you thinking about?” Adam smiled as he realised that you were staring at him.

His thumb massaged your hip as his baggy basketball shorts left the area of your skin exposed “I’m gonna miss these moments with you.” You confessed as you two loved being on top of each other on the tiny two seater couch.

Before a frown could form on your lips as the thought of the draft came along Adam brought his face closer to yours “the draft is a long way away baby.” The hockey player cooed “so for now let’s enjoy this.” He added pressing his lips against yours.

So as the Uber let you two out at the door of Adam’s apartment building you couldn’t help but smile as you grew excited “are you guys sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?” Adam looked at his family members in the car as he wrapped his hand around you “you two should go have fun.” Julia clearly didn’t mean it in the way that flashed through your mind but it still made you smile as you send her a nod.

You two watched the car drive off before you turned to make your way into the building “can’t believe that you’re truly here.” Adam mumbled pressing a kiss onto your head as he took in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

His hand slid lower now resting on your ass that he gave a squeeze “Adam!”

You squealed jumping as you walked into the elevator.

That resulted in a laugh from the boy who quickly joined you before the doors shut “you can’t blame me for missing you.” His words were true as he locked his hands on either side of you “thought about you all day.” Adam confessed hovering his lips over yours.

A smile formed on your face “I did too,” as you leaned up to kiss him the doors opened causing an awkward meeting for you two with an elderly couple “I’m gonna need to you walk in front of me.” The hockey player‘s whisper sent shivers down your spine as you looked down to see that he was hard.

Trying to keep the giggle from leaving your lips you nodded adjusting yourself so that you could walk in front of Adam who now had one hand on your waist and the other carrying your bag “have a good night.” You sent the couple a smile as the boy forced you out of there as quickly as he could.

You looked to Adam with a teasing look on your face “you got a little problem?” You joked seeing that nobody was in the hallway.

Adam scoffed as he shook his head “not only is this your fault but it also isn’t little.” The boy corrected you as he stopped in front of his door “let me get your keys.” You smirked dropping your hand into his pocket.

If he could tell what you were trying to do then Adam was being a good sport for putting up with it “those aren’t my keys.” He warned as you palmed his dick between the fabric of his pocket and his boxers “I know.” You pressed a kiss against his ear before you pulled his keys out quickly unlocking the door to his apartment.

There was a spilt second before Adam practically pushed you both into the apartment “someone’s needy.” You teased watching as he dropped your bag pressing the door shut with his hand before he made a beeline for you “I know.” Adam repeated your words as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Giving you a small moment to bring your hands to his neck before he kissed you. You two finally had that moment you had longed for where he could kiss you properly.

His tongue fought with yours as there was no longer the need to behave as someone was watching “fuck,” you moaned feeling his hands cup your ass “jump baby.” Adam didn’t need to tell you for a second time as your legs locked around his waist.

The walk to his room was short, not that either of you truly would have cared because you two were just enjoying the feeling of each others lips “god I’ve missed this.” The hockey player cooed dropping your body onto his bed.

You smiled up at him as he joined you on his bed still wanting to soak in the taste of your lips.

Sure it was etched into his brain but that didn’t mean that Adam wasn’t feeling this sense of being high each time he got to feel your lips against his skin “Adam,” you whined as his hands ran over your waist.

His smile was clear as he pecked your lips one final time “I wanna taste you baby.” Adam shook his head as your hand brushed over his cock.

You tried to protest “it’s your birthday,” you pointed out as you simply wanted to make him feel good “and all I want to do is taste that pretty cunt of yours.” Adam shot back as he shifted down his bed.

Adam hooked his fingers in the waist band of your pants “you look so fucking good today.” The hockey player gushed as he was met with the sight of your lace panties “you knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn’t you?” The Canadian smirked as he let your panties slide down your legs.

Your head bobbed as you nodded “please A,” you pleaded grabbing at his sheets as Adams breath fanned your cunt.

To say that you were soaked was an understatement as even in his dimly lit room Adam could still see the way that your pussy glistened “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.” The hockey players voice was shaky before his tongue ran up your slit settling on your clit.

It was like he was starving at the way he locked his hands around your thighs “shit Adam!” You cried bringing your hand down to his hair gripping onto his locks.

His eyes caught yours as you drove your hips into his face desperate to get off in that very moment.

His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub as he brought his fingers to your soaked cunt “god I’ve missed this,” the vibrations of his laugh sent shivers up your spine as your body shook.

Sure phone sex was a thing but this was a whole new level.

After weeks of not being able to get off through phone sex as your fingers and the sound of Adam’s voice could only do so much.

You were now getting exactly what you wanted “I’m gonna come,” you groaned scrunching your face as your body shook.

Adam nodded as you clenched around his fingers “let go baby.” He smiled lapping up your release as he was reminded how much he missed this.

But just like usual Adam didn’t slow down his movements as you rode his face through your orgasm “n-no A,” you shook your head trying to bring your body up and off of the bed.

His smirk was clear as he continued sucking you clit “baby,” you whined literally pulling his head up as you kissed his lips.

Tasting your release on his tongue made you squirm “you taste so sweet.” Adam groaned as your cunt rubbed against his clothed dick “baby I’m gonna come and I gotta do it in you.” He grunted as you nodded.

It took him seconds to undo his pants as you pulled his jersey over your head leaving you in your bra “god you’re gorgeous.” The hockey player smiled as he grabbed the condom from his wallet.

After you two were caught up after a big game with no condom Adam now had one that lived in his wallet for whenever you two would need it.

Before Adam could rip the wrapper open you had your hands capturing it so that you could wrap it around his cock “don’t tease me baby.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand to your head as you kitten licked the tip of his cock.

His precum oozed out of his swollen tip as you looked up at him with a smile “giving you everything you want tonight.” You mumbled pushing the condom over his cock as you kissed his lips swallowing his moan in the process.

Slowly Adam’s knees sink into the mattress as he comes down to your level “I just want you tonight.” His confession made your heart burst with love and pride “you have me Adam.” You nodded watching as he pressed his hands against your shoulders softly pushing you against the mattress.

Adam let his lips start at yours showing you an immense amount of love before he moved them to your cheek then to your jaw.

His journey slowly continued to your neck “A-Adam!” Your voice shook as your eyes screwed shut.

It made him smile as he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts “I want to take my time with you.” The hockey player cooed rubbing his fingers in your hips as he kissed your stomach “Adam please.” The desperation in your voice made him smile as he stopped.

The boy moved up to the point where his head stood just above yours “I love you baby.” Adam mumbled pressing his forehead against yours as his free hand drove his cock over your clit before he let it slide into your cunt.

You both gasped as the familiar feeling came over you both “this cunt feels like it did just back then.” Adam let out a grunt as you nodded “please move.” You begged making him smile.

He listened to you beginning to slowly bring his hips away from you before he brought them back to yours “you feel so good.” The Canadian cooed as you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was on instinct.

Like usual he was always so vocal “don’t stop,” you pleaded leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Adam almost collapsed at your neediness “god you’re out of this world.” Your cunt clenched around his cock at those words.

The moment was soft, it seemed that you two weren’t interested in having hot and steamy sex tonight. Not when you had missed the simple sheer contact that you two were having now “so full.” You blurted out as you swore that his cock had grown as it hit parts of you had it had never seen.

The hockey player didn’t think that he was going to last long as you continued to drive your hips against his “I love you.” You cried as his hand found its way between your bodies landing on your clit “this cunt was made for me.” Adam groaned as you nodded “all for you.” You agreed as you kissed him.

It was needy as Adam’s thrusts grew staggered at the way you clenched around his cock “I’m not gonna last,” Adam confessed as he shook his head “me neither,” you cried as the pressure on your clit increased.

It made your eyes shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap “love those noises.” The hockey player felt his head drop against your shoulder.

The sound of your whimpers hit the walls making Adam sure that he was going to get an awkward knock on the door tomorrow from his neighbour “right there oh-” your voice broke as pleasure pulsed through your body.

It made you shake against him as your hands locked in his hair “so so good,” you groaned gasping for air as white specks painted the backs of your eye lids.

Adam’s orgasm came right after yours making you both sweat as you came down from your highs “you okay?” The hockey player asked as his hands brushed your hair out of your face.”

You nodded with a smile “yep.” You watched him throw the condom away in the trash can next to his bed before you made grabby hands wanting him to come back to you “I want a cuddle.” Your confession made him laugh.

Of course Adam listened as he held his hands out to you “happy birthday baby.” You mumbled as you lay your head against his chest.

The boy smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair “thanks for making my birthday one to remember.” He cooed enjoying how this felt.

With you in his arms he knew that one thing was sure.

Home for Adam wasn’t a tangible place, it wasn’t a rink or his childhood home.

His home was right here, you were his home.

#adam Fantilli smut #adam fantilli imagines #adam fantilli x reader #nhl oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you take request for Astarion and co.? The reader gets an aura migraine (worst kind of migraine in my opinion). But because of her/their past being a mercenary/hunter/warrior (whichever one), the reader doesn’t tell or even realize it until it’s too late. Just some angst and then love and care from Astarion.

I love your writing! So please take all the time you need to write this if you want to.

HIHI I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR SO LONG!!!!!!! I've been very tired as of late from all the schoolwork and I swear it's almost like I don't have any down time. Writing through this slog has been difficult as well and I don't like forcing/rushing things. Still, I managed to finish this, hope you like it!

Summary: You collapse right in front of Astarion due to a particularly bad aura migraine episode. Panic and emotional constipation ensues

Your head is splitting. Again.

Inhaling sharply, you let out a slow breath, willing the pain away so that you can focus on the task at hand. Black spots creep in on the edges of your vision but you blink them away, you can’t falter now. You swing your blade, slicing through another of Orin’s assassins before ducking as a dagger stabs the spot your head was at just moments ago.

Even with spotty vision, your battle instincts are enough to help you survive the fight, but you don’t emerge from the fight unscathed. One of the assassins manages to sneak up on you and gets a hit in, tearing open your shoulder.

“Y/N!”

You hiss in pain, whirling around to cleave the assassin in half with your blade. Your injured arm shakes from the exertion, fresh blood streaming from the wound with each motion. The throbbing pain doesn’t help your migraine in the slightest and you nearly keel over.

“My dear, you look terrible.” Astarion catches you just before you hit the floor, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” You grab onto him to steady yourself, blinking as your vision begins to swim and push yourself upright, flashing him a grin. “See? Perfectly fine!”

And then the world spins before fading to black.

Bright light fills your vision as you open your eyes, causing you to throw your arm up to block out the light, only for white hot pain to shoot through said arm.

Right. You had injured your arm.

Groaning, you rub your eyes with the other arm and tenderly push yourself upright, letting out a croaky yelp when your injured arm buckles beneath you. Closing your eyes, you breathe out slowly, releasing your annoyance at the current situation.

“How are you feeling?” A familiar deep voice sounds.

“Fine.” Your reply comes out harsher than you intended and you internally cringe when Halsin noticeably pauses, taken aback by your tone.

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly. “How long was I out for?”

“Sufficiently long to make everyone worry.” He hands you a flask of water. “Drink up.”

You down the flask almost immediately, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat and let out a contented sigh. The throbbing in your head has dulled to a quiet hum, but it will remain for a few more days, if past experience is anything to go by.

"Thank you." You hand the now empty flask back to Halsin.

"If you're feeling well enough, you should go and talk to the others. Some of them were particularly worried when you fainted on them." Halsin gives you a sly smirk. "Especially a certain vampire."

You raise an eyebrow and Halsin laughs, "he was the most worried. I had to chase him out of the tent just so I could tend to you."

"He was that worried," you murmur to yourself, frowning slightly. You hadn't meant to do that, well not like you had meant to faint in the first place but knowing just how much of an impact your little 'accident' had on Astarion made you feel bad.

"Watch yourself out there, you were lucky you only collapsed after all the enemies were defeated," Halsin chides as he rebandages your wound and hands you a healing potion. "Try to tell someone when you're not feeling well, alright?"

You laugh, waving him off, "I'll try, no promises though."

The moment you exit the room, the others rush over to check up on you, save for a pale elf who sends a scowl your way before disappearing into his own room, his door left ajar. You reassure the others, quickly making your way past the conversations and slip away with Halsin's help, ducking into a familiar room.

"Hey." You attempt to make conversation but a scowl remains firmly on his face, his gaze buried in the book he's holding. Sighing, you make your way to the bed and nestle into the remaining space, feeling his cooling skin press against your burning one.

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

"You're sorry? That's it? You're not going to explain why I suddenly had your unconscious body in my arms, why you had the audacity to tell me you were 'perfectly fine' before collapsing, why you —" He stops to take a breath he doesn't need, feeling every emotion rush to the surface and tears prick the corners of his eyes. He's mad, mad at you for not telling him anything, mad at himself for not noticing earlier, mad at himself for not being able to express his concern in a normal manner.

"Star…"

"You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be ok! Sorry fixes nothing!" He yells, wanting nothing more than for you to yell back at him so that he can release the emotions he doesn't know how to deal with in the only way he knows how but you remain quiet, head hung low, and that frustrates him even more.

"You're right. Sorry fixes nothing. I…" You let out a deep sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his. You can see the tear streaks that have formed, the fear in his eyes, the anxiety and it steals your breath away.

"Halsin wasn't kidding. You really are extremely worried for me." You can't help but give a small chuckle despite it all, a quiet smile making its way onto your face.

"Of course I'm worried!" Astarion snaps.

"Thank you for being worried." You slip your hand into his. "No one's ever been this worried about me before."

"Have you fainted in someone's arms before?" He huffs, annoyed, but he has simmered down.

"Well…not quite. I always went on quests alone, fought alone, but the times I wasn't alone…let's just say things didn't go so well for me." You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "You all…you…are the first people I don't mind calling friends."

He clicks his tongue and looks away, but you can see the red on the tips of his ears. Your own cheeks are burning from the confession, your heart thundering like never before and you want nothing more than to bury your face into your knees.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" He mumbles after a while, still refusing to meet your gaze.

"Is there a reason I should be?" You murmur, running your thumb along his skin. His grip on you tightens and he bites his lip, shifting anxiously.

"There are many." The words leave his lips in a whisper and he wishes he could take them back when he sees the way your face falls.

"I can't think of any. I can, however, think of reasons for you to be angry at me." You shake your head. "I should have told you about my migraines earlier instead of having you find out like that, I should have done more than a simple 'sorry', I should have thought about you instead of just keeping to myself."

"You were just doing what you knew was safe. I'm no better."

"But you chose to open up to me. You spilled your deepest darkest secrets and yet I kept mine from you because I didn't want to look weak. I should have returned the favour, but I didn't." All your regrets come spilling forth, its flow stemmed only by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He kisses you gently at first, and then it deepens, becoming more urgent as he conveys his feelings to you the only way he knows how.

"You're strong. You're the strongest person I know. You've been through so much, and yet you refuse to let any of it stop you. You've been dealing with your migraine by yourself for so long, putting up with the pain by yourself, nothing about that is weak in the slightest." He presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into his embrace. "Let me share in your burden as you share in mine."

"It's only fair, I suppose." Your lips curve into a grin. Letting out a quiet breath, you entangle your fingers in his curls, feeling him lean into the touch. "Promise?"

"Promise," he murmurs back, soaking in the moment. There's only you and him, bodies pressed against each other, embracing like it's the last time you'll ever see each other, washing away the throbbing in your head and the ache in his heart.

He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your body tightly pressed against him, breathing in your scent that speaks of love, comfort, safety, feeling the rhythmic strokes of your fingers through his hair, and wants for nothing else. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiles, genuinely, and saves this moment in his memory.

"Get well soon, my love."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago

Note

Hii, going through the worst period of my life now :⁠^⁠) . Would be mw2 character's reaction with a partner with painful periods

Warnings: yandere behavior, descriptions of periods, and blood, my opinion of characters backgrounds (specifically Kyle's)

A/N: I'm so sorry, dovey!! I hope these headcanons make you a bit better <3

Captain “Price” John:

He feels terrible, especially when he comes home to you cuddled up in bed, wearing one of his large t-shirts, and a bunch of groans coming from you.

John’s mental-talk is that he knows cuddles, and spoiling you will help; which is what he does. He gets whatever you want, especially a new heating blanket, with some fluffy pillows. Major cuddling is expected, with him rubbing your stomach, and making sure to get deep into the muscles where it stings for you.

Keeps your cycle on his phone and on the calendar — very expressive when asking if you need to be restocked, and if it does come when it’s reminded on the calendar, he’ll frown and say: “The Red Army back in town, huh?”

Emotional days are the worst, especially if you don’t notice that you’re being snarky, or in a cry-to-angry mood. With it said, John treats your mood swings like any other day, not taking things personal. He knows it’s the hormones, anxiety, and overwhelmedness of your bleeding and pain, to which he accepts that it can and will drive you mad.

Does everything in the house, even if you feel obligated to do it. Of course, he’s kissing on you, loving on you whenever he gets the chance; but he doesn’t want you to worry about anything else but yourself.

At times, you may feel embarrassed within the hell week; waking up to see the bloody red sheets. This said, John isn’t grossed out at all, telling you to just jump in the shower as he cleans it all up; shaking his head whenever you apologize: “Happens, darlin’; get in the shower, I’ll make breakfast, m’kay?”

If you do bleed through your pants, especially in public, John always brings an extra pair of clothes; packed in the back of the trunk in his car. Though, if he can’t get to it, he’ll purposely wrap his large jacket around your lower waist — covering it up with you being ‘cold’.

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

He hates seeing you in any pain, especially if it’s one he cannot control or decrease in size — but unlike Price, he’s not so sure what to do. As much as he’s attentive towards you, and quite helpful, Simon is unsure how to properly comfort you; it’s never been his best strategy to distract, or comfort. But he tries.

If things are incredibly bad, where having to change boxers every hour, or having the worst cramps that leaves you sobbing and not being able to move, he’ll be more attentive. Pain medication every few hours, food that leaves you full, and heating patches that he runs out and gets frequently. He tries his best, but due to him being a guy and not understanding how it feels, he may say or do things awkwardly. But that doesn’t mean he’s not carrying, he really does, he’s just never had a period.

Is unfazed and never angry when seeing the blood, no matter how much you apologize or feel embarrassed. As long as it’s coming from a menstrual cycle, and not some major wound, he’s all good and telling you off to jump in the bath; taking care of things, and leaving you his large t-shirt on the washroom lid for you to wear when you get out.

Simon understands that your emotions are harder to control, especially since you’re drowning in blood. He’s fine with you snapping at him, or crying out of anger because of the pain and his very annoying existence. With this said, he makes it up with ice cream, and leaves you alone when sensed. Coming back every 45-to-an-hour to check up on you, and if you apologize, he just shrugs his shoulders: “Don’t worry about it, understand why ya’ act like it.”

Herbal tea is mostly given to you, especially during nights. He wants to help with balancing everything out, and ease the deathly pains. He always gives you a candy bar at that, too; wanting you to relish the taste before helping you to bed.

Another thing he gives is massages. Where you want his golden hands, they’re there, relieving some pain and ensuring to get rid of the knots. Simon gives kisses out, patterning along your neck and cheek, talking to you with his gruff and rough voice.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

Quite attentive, especially since he grew up with sisters. He understands the whereabouts of periods, extreme pain, and the large package it comes with. So, out of everyone, Kyle is stocked full of supplies, knowing exactly what to do, and not taking things personally when you lash out.

A major cuddler when it comes down to him finding you crouched over in pain. Kyle would make sure everything for you is perfect, spooning you from behind whilst holding a heating pad to your aching stomach. He tries to joke around, wanting you to feel a bit better with jokes, but mostly keeps it quiet with the low-volume TV.

He knows when you get your period, often picking up on your mood changes, and quickly makes sure everything is up-to-date, including salty, spicy, and sweet treats that he knows you’ll enjoy that are stored in the pantry.

Spoils you up to 100%, he makes sure that the sheets each day are warm and freshly washed. Restocking your necessary needs, and buying you snacks that he hopes you won’t eat in a day. He’s fine with your routine, following you to bed and massaging your back when it becomes too much, or making you a mixed bowl of M&M’s and popcorn.

Kyle is considerably easy to be around, even if your emotions are everywhere. He knows that during the horrible week you’ll start doubting yourself, and becoming quite irritable over everything. This said, he’s very understanding and always here to reassure you; especially if everything comes down like a rumbling rock, and you start crying. He knows that the cramps hurt, and it’s just your hormones being wacky, which, when you’re being snarky, or rude, he doesn’t take it personally and rather asks what he can do to help you.

When you stain the sheets, or your clothes, he makes no fuss about it, waving your embarrassment with a smile. If you continue on with apologizing, cheeks flushed and mumbling on, Kyle will cup your cheeks and make you look into his eyes: “It happens, honey. Jus’ jump in the shower, and I’ll join you if ya’ want, okay?”

When everything becomes too much, and you’re overwhelmed, crying yourself to sleep while the wind whistles at the window, Kyle will stay with you. Wrapping you up in soft blankets, holding you whilst pressing kisses on your cheeks and shoulders; whispering loving words and telling you how strong you are for surviving this every 28 days.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

At a young age, his mother taught him very strictly on how to treat his lover when they are on their period. With this, he’s extremely attentive, and has the bathroom stocked with everything you need; the calendar day circled in red for remembrance.

Johnny is really excellent at picking up cues, especially during your period. He’s quick to learn how to deal with certain things and what makes you feel better. He may be uncertain with some stuff, such as mood changes, but he knows better than to comment on it.

The whole time, he’s all over you, even if nothing hurts. Johnny is constantly supplying you with many heating pads, cuddles and kisses, and the food you love to snack on. Most of the time, you’re wearing his clothes, and hoodies. He buys you a bunch of chocolate, and flowers depending on the day of the week; doing anything to put a smile on your pretty face.

He really enjoys preparing nice baths on the days when it’s extremely painful. Using bath salts to relax your aching muscles. With how attentive he is, and being practically hovering, he’s sitting outside the tub, talking to you and ensuring that he’s not disgusted or embarrassed by the flowing blood in the water.

Speaking of blood, he isn’t grossed out all about you staining your clothes, or the bedsheets; it happens, and it can’t be controlled — much more playfully joking around when you being a ‘hot bloody mess’, and trying to direct your embarrassment to jumping in the shower. When you get out, new boxers and his hoodie is awaiting you on the bed, as well as a massage and a bunch of kisses.

When struggling with mood swings, and becoming a bit rude, Johnny rarely takes them offensively — taking them with stride, and nodding with duck lips, leaving the room and coming back with comfort food. Of course, at times, the words you spill sting, but he never takes the things personal.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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midiosaamor · 8 months ago

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❪ ✧ ❫ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃... 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: malakai azer x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: after battle, kai has a knack for getting injured and not letting anyone help him. well, that is, except for you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: wounds, blood, flirting, tension, female reader, bandages, stitches, slight gore (?), fluff i guess?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 869

𝐀/𝐍: heres to all my girls who want a kai azer fic but theres absolutely 0, aka this poor, innocent soul. kinda happy that im the first person to make this (i think? oh my god if im actually not it’ll just make me look like an egomaniac even though i kind of am but im not i just have a huge pride DTOPIT) also sorry this took so long lmao😭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐈 “𝐊𝐀𝐈“ 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle

this was the third time. the third time he had hurt himself in battle.

yes, you get that he’s fighting and he’ll get hurt no matter what. but for god's sake, you feel like he almost purposely hurts himself in battle.

so, here you are, dragging the king’s second son to the healing room, scolding him as he follows you like a puppy.

“i can’t believe it, kai. the third time. i swear, one of these days, i won’t be here to heal you,” you rant, not even looking behind you to see if the man is still following you.

you could almost feel him chuckling at your antics, thinking that you’re being over dramatic. which, in your opinion, you definitely aren’t.

you walk into the healing room and push the nineteen-year-old onto the bed. his chin is still dripping with blood, and bleeding scars are scattered around his muscular form.

“i’ll be fine, sweetheart. it’s only a few wounds; i’m not dying,” he taunts, rolling his eyes. you shoot the enforcer a harsh glare as you dig for some bandages and stitches.

your eyes glance to his rib, a long, deep, red wound traveling through his skin. you know that it pains him to sit and walk with that wound, but you also know that his father, the king, made him able to handle pain like that.

“sure,” you say sarcastically, get out the bandages once you find them. you put them on the stray, along with the stitches.

“why don’t you let the healers handle this, it’ll be much easier.” kai looks at you with a deadpan expression before shrugging. “i don’t want them to,” he says simply. you blink before glaring at him again, slamming the forceps you found on top of the tray along with the bandages.

“moron,” you mutter, making him grin bloodily at you. you roll your eyes, get a cloth, and start to gently tap his lip with the cloth, drying the blood.

you accidentally look up just to see him staring at you, making eye contact. his gray eyes glance between your own, his lips separating slightly.

gulping, you look away and dig in the counter for some alcohol for his wounds. you hear him sigh from behind you as you take the alcohol out.

“take off your shirt.” kai looks at you in amusement before taking off his shirt.

you’ve done this before; making him take off a piece of clothing so you could bandage his wounds without trouble, but it never fails to make blush come to your cheeks and your stomach flutter with butterflies.

kai looks up at you with a knowing look in his eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. you clench your jaw before turning to the tray beside you and getting the alcohol.

you pour the liquid on the cloth in your hand before putting it on the large cut—probably made by a sword or someone with powers—on his defined —muscular but lean—chest.

you hear him hiss in pain, though you still feel his eyes on you. “that’ll need stitches. now, if you’d ask a proper healer, i would’ve just healed it with powers, but since i’m not…” you trail off, giving him a deadpan look.

“no, i’m—fine,” he grunts, his hands clenching the sheets underneath him. rolling your eyes, you grab the forceps and carefully grab the needle with it.

“you ready?”

“this isn’t the first time i needed stitches, sweetheart, i’ll be fine.”

“whatever.”

you hear a sharp hiss whenever you stick the needle into his skin. carefully, you start to stitch his wound back up—along with his hisses and held-in grunts of pain.

once you're finished, you cut the string and put the needle back on the tray. (idk man idk to do stitches) for the rest of the wounds, you get the alcohol and put it on the cotton again before cleaning the other small cuts and wounds.

“you’re a natural at this—thanks to me, of course,” kai murmurs, hissing halfway through. you glare at the man as you get the bandages, starting to bandage the wounds on his chest.

“that’s not something to brag about, kai. if anything you should be embarrassed,” you hiss, continuing to bandage up his wounds.

he hums and you feel his eyes on you again, watching you. he continues to stare at you until eventually you can’t handle his heated gaze on you and lift your head, meeting his eyes.

your breath catches in your throat as you lift your head a bit too close to his, feeling your cheeks get warm.

kai’s gaze travels to your other eye, to eventually your lips, then back to your other eye. instinctively, you lick your lips to wet them, making kai’s attention travel back to your lips.

you see him lean in ever so slowly, as if silently asking if he could kiss you. “can i—”

the door swings open and you quickly jump back, separating you and kai. looking towards the door, you see the blond hair of his big brother, kitt.

he looks between the two of you suspiciously, lifting an eyebrow. “was i, uh, interrupting something?” he asks.

“no.”

“kind of.”

“kai—”

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021894s · 8 months ago

Text

— 06 shopping spree [0.9k w]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRINGS: brothers bsf!sunghoon x reader

WARNINGS: mentions wearing white to a wedding? cussing

AUTHORS NOTE: hi my loves. i wrote this chap super quick before I go to bed so sorry if it doesn’t live up to your standards ehe. nonetheless I hope you enjoy🫶🏻

You've been at the library for what feels like an eternity, textbooks and notes spread out like a fortress around you. The pressure of exams is weighing heavily on your shoulders, and you're determined to maintain your top of the class status. Your focus is so intense that you barely notice the fatigue creeping in, until your head starts to nod and your pen taps rhythmically against your notebook in a silent plea for rest.

Suddenly, a familiar figure weaves through the maze of bookshelves, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Sunghoon knows this is where you disappear to when you need to concentrate. He quietly approaches your table calling out your name in a whisper, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you’d fallen asleep mid study session.

he lightly nudges you, startling you awake. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases gently. You blink up at him, a mix of confusion and embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you straighten up.

"I'm not sleeping, just... resting my eyes," you protest, but the smile he gives you is too knowing, too warm. He asks if you're okay, his concern genuine as he inquires about your studies and your well-being.

The conversation shifts to the upcoming trip to Japan, the fake dating scheme you've both agreed to, all in an effort to show your ex that you've moved on. Sunghoon leans in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "So, have you thought about what you're wearing to the wedding? I mean, we should probably match, right? To make the whole 'dating' thing more convincing."

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, the idea of coordinating with him both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I... haven't really thought about it," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady despite grogginess from your slumber just a couple minutes ago.

He grins, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, we've got to make a good impression. How about we go shopping together? Find something that screams 'power couple'?"

The suggestion sends your heart racing, the prospect of spending time together outside of ksana parties and group hangouts made you a bit nervous, but growing up with sunghoon it was hard not to enjoy his company.

“yeah that sounds like a good idea actually. do you have any place in mind?” you ask him. “we can try that new mall across from campus, maybe we’ll find something there?”

“oh i’ve been wanting to go there! saerom says that have really cute cafes and shops” he can’t help but smile at how passionate you become at the mention of shopping. “perfect then i’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon?” he asks you. “noon sounds great” you flash him a smile.

a moment of comfortable silence passes by. Then, he drops the invitation to the ksana party. with him and Heeseung being a part of a frat, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to be invited to parties every other weekend. You hesitate, the responsible part of your mind reminding you of the endless studying still ahead. With a resigned sigh, you decline, a small part of you longing to say yes, to let loose and have fun. But grades come first, and you're not one to let distractions get in the way of your goals.

As the next day comes, You glance at the clock and realize. Sunghoon will be here any minute to pick you up for your shopping trip. With a flutter of excitement, you grab your bag and check your reflection one last time. You've chosen an outfit that's comfortable yet cute. shopping sprees had always been your favorite for as long as you could remember. you blame heeseung because he always dragged you out of the house to give him your very honest (sometimes brutal) opinion.

A gentle knock on the door signals his arrival, and your heart skips a beat. "Ready to go?" Sunghoon asks with a smile as you open the door.

"Definitely," you reply, stepping out and closing the door behind you.

The drive is anything but awkward. you chat and laugh on the way to the mall, the atmosphere light and easy, like it’s always been between you two. Once there, you dive into a sea of stores, each one offering its own treasures.

"How about this one? imagine the look on everyone’s faces when you show up in this" Sunghoon chuckles, holding up a white dress that's definitely a big NO considering you’re attending a wedding.

"are you being serious? " you tease, taking the dress from him. "sunghoon it’s white. I’d probably be chased out the venue and get personally attacked by all the bridesmaids” you can't help but laugh at the thought.

“even more reason for you to get it” a smirk creeps up on his face. “oh so you’re praying on my downfall?” he gasps “ME?? i would never do such a thing” you roll your eyes and walk past him. both of you having smiles on your faces as you continue to look around the store.

You try on dresses and a few other items, each time coming out of the fitting room to Sunghoon's eager eyes. "What do you think?" you ask, doing a little twirl in a black floral slip dress.

Sunghoon's gaze lingers just a moment too long before he catches himself. "It looks great on you," he says, a hint of something more in his voice. "You should definitely get it."

The day continues with more laughter, shared opinions. it’s moments like these where you appreciate sunghoon’s friendship and the sibling dynamic between you two. it makes you less nervous about the whole fake dating scheme. your friendship would remain the same and everything will be ok in the end. or will it?

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog @ihrtgyuuu @purennn @hoonharem @g0niki @hearts4itoshi @yongbokified @shuichi-sama @xiaoderrrr @hongshuaknow @skylaly @yzzyhee @jwnghyuns @seokseokjinkim @syzavxy @xrvrqs @soulvrs @velvetkisscs @ak-aa-li @eneiyri @starlvcieszsq @meowmeowjang @hanhaeji @moonlighthoon @gaylilseokie @seunghancore @heelovesmeknot @nyfwyeonjun

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nofingjustaninchident · 9 months ago

Note

Hi, I just saw your Jason Grace general headcanons and I was wondering, can you do a Jason Grace boyfriend headcanons this time?

Jason Grace boyfriend hcs

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace boyfriend material

warnings: f1 references, one direction references, other than that just mushy gushy fluff

a/n: yk what? i absolutely hate writing hcs. i prefer one thousand times to write fics. the problem is, i don’t have creativity enough to write a fic, and neither do i have time. when i have inspiration, im usually in class and i hate writing fics in my notebook but whatever. i hope you enjoy?? lmk!!

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

He. Is. The cutest boyfriend ever. In the whole world.

He’s literally the sweetest person

With you? My gods

My boy’s whipped.

He’d do absolutely anything you asked him to do, and it’s kinda cute

But also kinda scary cause he’d kill someone if you asked him to

He memorized all of your favorite artists’ songs so you can talk about that together

Frequent dates!!

Lots of gifts in absolutely random occasions

At the beginning of, he was so touch starved it was almost pitiful

But he started to loosen up the more you got into the relationship

Now he just can’t keep his hands away from you, doesn’t matter how

Interlocking pinkies or hands? Check. Hugging you from behind if you’re talking to someone? As long as you don’t get uncomfortable.

He’s just super clingy, and it’s the cutest thing ever.

He looks just like a lost puppy.

He just needs a little bit of love

Cause it’s all too much for little Jason Grace

F1 joke sorry i can’t help myself

ANYWAYS

Back to my man

He loves when you braid his hair or just spend time with you in general.

He always seems to know when you’re down

Cause he usually does know

And when you’re with your friends and he notices you’re not feeling well

He gives an excuse and pulls you with him

When you get to his cabin he just cradles you into his chest and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

He’s a great listener, and his favorite part of the day is when he gets to come home and listen to you

If you’re not the talker type, he can talk for you

He just wants you to feel comfortable around him, always.

He feels so bad when you’re mad at him or he knows he did something that probably hurt you

Even if it didn’t, he’ll apologize for the next weeks

And some days you’re just cuddling together in a totally allowed sleepover (Aphrodite threatened Mr. D to let you sleep together, but that’s not the point), he’ll just sniffs in your hair and mumble soft ‘i’m sorry’s and ‘i love you’s into your head.

He’s just the cutest person in the world.

You know that song “In a world of boys he’s a gentleman”?

It’s him. Momma Taylor wrote it for him. I know, i was there. I was the pen.

Sometimes he just gets super clingy out of nowhere, and it’s super cute in your opinion

Even if he’s embarrassed of it later on.

If you have curly hair, he’ll ask Leo how to style your curls so he can help you

He also learns all your skincare steps so he can help you with it when you’re too tired to do it yourself

He loves when you just lay on his chest and falls asleep, he can keep reading and caressing you

He’s so in love with you it’s gross

You can bet your life that he has a picture of you in his wallet

And if demigods had phones, his wallpaper would be you & him

Oh, i just know he loves listening to one direction with you

I’m not gonna elaborate. He just does.

He’s a very smart man, so he studies a lot

And he absolutely loves when you’re there with him

But in the end he doesn’t study, he just admires you as you scrunch your nose and pouts, trying to understand something.

He loves loves LOVES going on double dates, like you & him and will & nico. It’s like his two favorite people in the world and Will as a bonus

Hehehe sorry he loves Will too

But not as much as he loves you and his younger brother Nico

If you have younger siblings in the mortal side, he’s always asking to go to your house cause he LOVES kids

He just loves to take care of them

And deep down he’s also a little bit scared that maybe he’ll not live enough to have his own

But sometimes, in the middle of the night (when the wolves come down) he finds himself staring at the ceiling and imagining how you and his kids would look like

Would they have your hair and his eyes? Maybe your freckles and his personality?

He just likes to imagine how would it be like, your family

For last, your mortal parent immediately likes him. Like, sure, there’s that whole “if-you-hurt-my-daughter” blah blah blah

BUT

they know that he’s super protective

But he’s a great boyfriend.

And if you’re happy, they’re happy too.

And Jason fits in that list.

a/n pt2: I. MADE. IT. LONG. AND I CANT BELIEVE IT!! but look, i promise that im writing a real thing, it’s just that im drowning in homework and my mom is gonna give birth soon and. i feel like jason rn tbh

#postcards from leah #jason grace #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #pjo hoo toa #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #if jason grace has 1 fan it is me if he has 0 fans i am dead.#jason grace supremacy #in jason we believe

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holmesianlove · 24 days ago

Text

Chapter 2 - Biscuits

John sat with his head in his hands groaning low in his throat as Mrs Hudson prepared some tea. She loved her boys. Sherlock, she’d known for a long time now and had taken on the role of a surrogate mother of sorts. That boy’s parents did not come to London enough to check on their son, and his older brother was far too stifling, in her opinion. Sherlock had never had a chance to just breathe for himself. So Martha Hudson had made it her mission to make his life as comfortable as possible within some very strict constraints. She was not the landlady. But she also cared for him deeply.

The day John Watson entered the scene, everything changed for the better. Sherlock’s entire demeanour was different now. The minute she saw them together, she had assumed romance because Sherlock had never seemed to light, so inspired as he did with this boy in the room. She still had hope. One day they’d sort themselves out.

“You know, John,” she began carefully, “Sherlock can be an acquired taste.”

John huffed loudly, lifting his face long enough to give her a dark expression before returning back to his posture of despair.

“Sherlock loves his experiments…”

“I’m green, Mrs Hudson. Green,” he moaned back looking up at her.

“I think it’s a great compliment that he feels comfortable enough with you to try these things. Don’t you?” she tried enthusiastically, placing a cup of tea in front of him and then bring over a plate of biscuits and cupcakes to set on the table, which had, unfortunately been iced with a lovely matching shade of green.

John looked at her horrified.

“Merely an unfortunate coincidence,” she sighed. “Sorry.”

He grumbled something to himself and took a sip of the tea. The two of them sat in silence for a decent length of time but somehow it didn’t feel uncomfortable. “You think this is a sign of friendship?” he finally asked.

Mrs Hudson shrugged and sipped her tea.

“I think it’s convenience. Before me he had no-one to experiment on and now here I am. A live bloody subject,” he grumbled.

“John,” Mrs Hudson said, scolding him. “You’re so much more than that to Sherlock and you know it.”

“I was supposed to have a date!” John cried out.

Mrs Hudson couldn’t help chuckling.

“He always, always ruins my dates.”

“Let’s be honest dear, you don’t enjoy them. You’ve told me that many a time,” she reminded him with a stern look.

John simply sighed. And the silence returned.

“Well,” Mrs Hudson said with a huff. “I know it, even if you don’t. You’re the best thing to happen to that boy. He certainly knows it. And while I can appreciated that being green is not conducive to dating…”

John gave her a look.

“I can’t argue with you there,” she conceded. “But I will tell you this: Sherlock Holmes comes from a wealthy family who own property all over the country.”

John frowned not understanding where that was going.

“The poor boy was being suffocated by his parents and his brother watching over his every move, ever since… well you know about the drugs, at least in theory. I have known him a long time and I offered him the flat. I owe him a favour or two myself,” she said with a stiff smile.

“Your husband,” John said with a nod of understanding. “So?”

“Sherlock doesn’t need a flatmate, John. He has money,” she continued. “He had already been living here on his own for a while before you.”

“He told me he’d just moved in,” John said, sitting straighter, his voice rising slightly, ready for a battle, despite it being with the wrong person.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re saying he allowed me to move in so he had someone to experiment on and I’m paying for the privilege?” he moaned.

She chuckled quietly. “No, John. I’m saying he usually prefers to live alone and doesn’t like people but he offered you the room, after a very short conversation, from what I understand.”

John’s shoulders relaxed. “A very strange and short conversation, yes.”

“And you took it with no argument,” she reminded him.

“Yes, that’s true. I… well I had nothing much else to lose.”

“Indeed,” she said, passing him a cupcake which he took. He started playing with the wrapper, unfolding it as he thought.

When he didn’t say anything she spoke again. “You needed each other, I think,” she said quietly.

“Why does he have to make things so difficult?” John moaned, biting into the cupcake. He looked up at Mrs Hudson with a clear appreciation for her baking and returned to eating it.

“The minute I saw you both together, I knew that you had saved each other’s lives,” she finally admitted.

John would have argued but he had a mouth full of cake so he worked on that as he thought and at least from his point of view she was absolutely right.

Mrs Hudson picked up her tea cup and paused. “Is it true that Mycroft whisked you off and made threats?” She had heard this from Sherlock at some point and always wanted to ask.

John looked at her in surprise. “It most certainly is. He has a lot to answer for,” John scoffed. “But he doesn’t scare me.”

“And that’s why Sherlock trusts you. He knows. You’re his protector now. His family are far quieter because they know you’re here and they trust you too.”

“No.” John frowned. “I doubt that.”

“It’s true, John. You have changed Sherlock. And that sweet boy may struggle to tell you so, but you mean a great deal to him.” She reached out and patted John’s hand that was resting on the table. “He’s like a school boy playing pranks on a crush.”

John spat out the mouthful of tea he had taken in and Mrs Hudson sat back in shock, pulling her hand away and sitting up straighter. “John Hamish Watson!” she scolded.

“I… wait, how do you know my middle name?!” he squeaked.

“Sherlock may be an idiot when it comes to you, but I assure you I am not. My husband worked with the cartel. I have ways,” she sighed, getting up to fetch a cloth.

John sat staring into space. What in God’s name was she even talking about?

“It’s not a crush Mrs Hudson,” John finally said.

“No. You’re right about that,” she agreed as she wiped the table.

John relaxed visibly and sat back in his chair.

“It was merely an analogy,” she said gently.

“Well good. I thought I’d cleared it up with you that first day. We’re not a couple. I’m not gay, and Sherlock Holmes does not have a crush on me that induces him to experiment on me… to stop my dates.” As he finished the thought he hesitated. He hoped that wasn’t the purpose of this in any case.

“You’re absolutely right. He doesn’t have a crush. Sherlock Holmes loves you with his whole being,” Mrs Hudson said, levelling a very firm look at John.

John froze in her gaze, swallowing hard. If he’d been a normal colour it would have drained from his face. And thank goodness he was green so she couldn’t see the blush that then rose on his cheeks, though he knew full well that Martha Hudson could see past the green. She knew everything.

They remained frozen like that for what felt like an uncomfortable age as John processed her words. He felt his entire body respond to them.

“John!” Sherlock called out from the doorway.

John twisted around to see Sherlock standing there, relieved at the interruption but then terrified at the thought he might have heard the conversation.

“How long have you…?”

“John, we have to go!” he rushed on excitedly. “There’s no time for cups of tea!”

“Sherlock Holmes!” Mrs Hudson scolded.

Sherlock’s shoulders dropped and he walked around the table to where she was standing and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Better,” she said. “Honestly your manners sometimes.” She rolled her eyes.

“John. Come on! Get up. There’s a case.” He reached over and grabbed a biscuit, taking a bite and flashing Mrs Hudson a wink before rushing back out.

John sat for a moment. He had far bigger problems now. He leapt up, ran over to her and gave her a kiss too. “Thank you for the tea!” he cried out, as he chased after Sherlock Holmes.

The colour of his skin had been long forgotten. The game was on!

——

@notjustamumj @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart @givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk

@phoenix27884

#December prompt #johnlock #sherlockbbc #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #sherlock #john watson #bbc sherlock #angsty #sherlock fandom #fic prompt

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cybersugru · 9 months ago

Text

❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이

𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader

𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance

𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings

word count — 4.06k

synopsis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.

🎀

AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.

“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”

“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”

you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.

“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile of someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.

“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help

you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”

as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with him ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”

before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered you a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.

“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”

feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”

you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.

mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.

“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”

you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.

a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.

you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.

mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.

the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?

“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. “you?”

a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.

mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.

“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”

the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.

as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.

mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.

“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.

the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.

the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.

unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?

if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.

you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.

without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.

just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.

between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.

“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”

the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.

“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”

that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.

“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”

even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.

“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”

#— ⟡ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐞 !#— ⟡ 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 !#— ⟡ 𝐧𝐜𝐭 !#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee sfw #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct #nct dream drabbles #mark lee drabbles

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