#if it is not within the terms of the contract he will not act | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuyu1024 · 3 months

Text

Twilight

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, mention of smoking and drinking alchohol jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.6k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

A/N: again thanks for liking this mini series and my simple writing... 🫶🏻 hope i don't disappoint 🙏🏻

****

[Day 1 into the marriage]

"Here is the wedding certificate and then here are the papers where all the terms of agreement are listed." The lawyer says as he puts down the pens and papers in front of you and Yoongi whilst you two are still in your wedding outfits. "These are final prints... they were revised based from our last meeting." He adds

"Good." Yoongi picks up his pen and signs the wedding certificate. "Thanks for doing this within short notice." And then he proceeds to signing our contract, flipping each page like he's just signing some random deal at work.

"No worries, Mr. Min. We've had clients who have way more pages and things to consider than yours two." The lawyer says

So, this means that a lot of rich people do this kind of contracts. Besides the pre-nup thingy. Meaning, contracts for those who got married just because they had to. What a world we live in.

"Mrs. Min?" Your eyes slowly rises. You see the lawyer handing you the pen.

"Oh." You take the pen from his hand and then slighty move forward from the sofa you are sitting so you could reach the papers.

"Left handed...?" Yoongi mumbles making you look back at him. He is sitting beside you.

"I- I am..." and then you proceed to signing everything. Not missing a page.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Min." The lawyer puts everything in a folder and then an envelope and stands up to bow. "Congratulation on your marriage!"

You are not sure how to response as you know what 'marriage' you just entered. But all you could say is 'Thank you' and bow back

Then the moment the lawyer and his minions left the room, you finally relax and let out a sigh of relieved. The wedding is finally over. The day you have been preparing for months. And the acting as a perfect bride is over. Well atleast for this moment. Coz now, you are not just a bride, you are a wife now. A wife of one of the wealthiest and good looking man in the country. The only son of the famous mafia known to man.

"Don't cut your hair short..." he suddenly says cutting you from your deep thoughts

"Sorry?"

You see him staring at you. His legs crossed and his chin resting on his palm. "Maintain that length..."

Then you glance down at your curled hair that is reaching until below your chest. "Ahm.... okay." You softly answer

"Do you have a doctor?"

"Doctor? For what?"

"To monitor your health... and also a doctor to take care of you... reproductive wise..."

"W-what...?" You could feel your cheeks burn up. You didn't expect a conversation like this just after getting married. "W-why...? Like... Do we need to have children as soon as possible?"

He looks away. "The opposite." He then stands up, hands in his pockets and walks towards the door. "Monitor your period...so when I want to have sex with you... we're safe."

Speechless. He's so straightforward and he sound so cold. But atleast he is talking to you now.

"Did you hear me?" He looks back at you

"Y-yes... I will." You answer, clutching onto your skirt, nervous and scared at the same time.

"Good." He turns his back again to you. "You can rest for bit... and when you're done, your car is waiting at the back entrance."

"My... car? H-how about you?"

"I have work. I'll see you at the house."

"Oh. Okay..."

You watch him leave the room and see Mr. Kim his right hand man smile at you to bid their goodbye and close the door.

That's it for your wedding day. The very eventful day ended up to becoming so silent. Because the next time you see him is 2 weeks after. Crazy isn't it.

Weddings supposed to be followed by a trip for your honeymoon but instead you are brought to his mansion and became a prison.

***

You are walking around the mansion, familiarizing yourself with the surrounding with your personal maid that was assigned to you by your husband, when you hear commotions. Everyone are in a hurry and mumbling as they do random things.

"Miss... Master is home." Your personal maid says answering your unspoken curiosity

"Is he..." you softly say under your breathe. "Should I go to my room now and change?" You ask her.

They have debriefed you the whole two weeks your husband is out. They told you all the things you need to know and add a bit of ideas to you what Yoongi likes. More particularly, your hair being braided whenever he wants to have sex.

How funny that even his staffs know these kind of things. During the two weeks time, it made you wonder, what type of person is Yoongi. How can he be so open about his wants especially from a woman. Like woman he fucks.

It also made you question, did he fuck a lot of woman before he was forced to marry? Did he bring a different woman to pleasure him? Will you be seeing other women if you don't give him his needs? Can you satisfy him?

It's been only at beginning of this life and yet you are flooded by question but no one could answer it. You are not allowed to question him or be curious.

The maid nods and bows.

"Okay then..." you are nervous.

If ever he comes to you and he asks for sex, you are worried and scared at the same time. This is your first time. You are not experienced. You never had a chance to have to have sex yet since you are busy trying to survive and work for your family. The only experience you got is kissing and you don't even know if you are good at it. Your first and last boyfriend was the onky experience you got. you two didn't lasted that long and you were young back then so..

"What are you doing here...?"

Both you and the maid got startled a bit. You two looking back, you both see Yoongi standing at the end of the hallway.

"Y-yoongi?" You mumble, almost a whisper that you can only hear yourself.

Your husband looks like he just came from a fight. The corner of his lips is bleeding and his white shirt have blood on it too.

"Master." The maid bows and explains why you are there. "Miss is just roaming around to get familiar with the house."

While you on the other hand, you are shaking but you try your very best to hide it. "W-what happen..." your voice is too weak for him to even hear

"We were just about to go to her room to get ready." The maid adds.

Yoongi's expression is empty. He is just starring at you with those sharp eyes. It is sending shivers all over your body.

"Tell everybody to not set foot on this wing until I say so..." Yoongi orders the maid

She bows and says, "Understood." And then she glances at me and does the same. "Miss..." before she disappears leaving you and Yoongi alone in the hallway.

"What are you staring at?" He asks as he begins to walk towards you. "Do I scare you?"

"No..." you shake your head

"Do I repulse you?" He then stops right in front of you.

You can now see it more clearing. His bloody lip, the scratches on his neck and his scar. The prominent scar on his face that made you curious about him since the day you met him.

"No... not at all..." you answer

He scoffs with disbelief with your answer. "You are just saying that because of our contract."

You feel offended a little because you are being honest. You are scared of the situation but not him. You are afraid that you might mess up your first night but not because of him. He never really scares you which is odd.

Before you met him, people already gave you warning about him. You were worried yes however all of that blew away when you saw him look at you. You know something is behind those empty eyes. He is different that what people know. You don't want to judge him.

"No..." you insist.

"Really?" He then raises his hand and touch your long straight hair.

"Your hand..." you mumble seeing his red knuckles. "Does it hurt?"

"That's nothing." He answers. "I can still use my hand..." then he gently touch your breast. He let his finger feel where your nipple is and then squeezing it lightly.

You inhale sharply as you watch him do it. This is the first time anyone have touched you like this, in a semi public place. You thought you'd be uncomfortable. But no. You like it. That's what your body tells you.

He is also watching you react on his touch. His eyes never left yours. "Are you nervous?" He asks

"A little."

He smirks, "you should be."

Then he pulled you in for a kiss by grabbing you by your nape. You tip toed a little as he is taller than you. You struggled a bit to find your balance but it didn't matter seconds later as you begin to melt the moment he devours your lips. He is holding you tight and basically carrying you.

His other hand skims down your back until it reaches your ass. He's caressing you down back that it pulls up your mini dress.

"I like this." He says in between the kiss as he touched your lace underwear.

Your heart is beating so fast. The sudden thrilling feeling is overwhelming you but at the same time is turning you on. The way he touches you is making you feel you are so sexy even though you know you are not.

"Spread your legs." He orders and you follow. Then his hand goes in to your panty and cup you down there. "You're so wet." He smirks

You are out of breathe when the kissing stops but him touching you down there, it is making you so red. No one has touched you down there.

"No braids today... I can't fucking wait anymore." He then scoops you off the ground and carried you bridal style. "I'll let this one go since we just got married. I need to fuck you right now."

**********

[6months into the marriage]

Yoongi have been gone for two days for business. He said he will back today but told you not to wait and just go to bed. However, after seeing him looking at bit grumpy and frustrated during his call earlier, you can't help but worry for him. Because usually when you see him like that he'll come home with a bloody knuckle again.

Thinking about him the whole day now affects you. You can't sleep nor feel tired. Your brain is so awake and imagining things that might happen to him.

You want to call him or even message Mr. Kim to know how is he doing. But you can't. You're not allowed to contact him unless it is about your schedule or about his parents. Your interaction with him is still very limited. It's been months since you two got married but nothing has changed.

And since you can't sleep, you decided to go down to the kitchen and make yourself a hot milk. It is perfect for the winter weather and also maybe it can help to ease your mind and get you to feel sleepy even just a little bit.

"It's snowing..." you mumble to yourself as enter the kitchen area.

There is a huge window where you could see the back of the house where the mini garden. You say mini since it is mini compare to how huse this whole house is.

The bushes are all covered in snow and you could see how the moon light reflects on them. It's mesmarizing but also dangerous especially if you are out driving.

"I wonder..." you whisper as you stand right next to the window. "I hope he gets home safetly..."

***

After drinking your hot milk and spending a few minutes staring into the world outside through the window, you still don't feel sleepy at all. So even it's already pass 10pm, you decided that maybe going to your study room and to read a book might help to.

However, on your way to your study area, you walk pass by Yoongi's wing where his room is located

You could hear men talking which made you stop and observe from the end of the hall. You see Mr. Kim talking to a man wearing a white blazer coat. He looked familiar but you are not sure. Not until he turned around and talked to a nurse that came out of Yoongi's room.

He is the Min's family doctor. He is also the same doctor that did your health check up months ago.

"Why is he--"

Then a high pitched, piercing cry echoed from Yoongi's room. He's screaming. He is in pain.

Both men hurries back in his room to check on Yoongi while you on the other hand, frozen and terrified from afar. Questions like; what happened? What's going on? Is he hurt? Why? Is he okay? Why is he screaming like that?

You want to sprint forward to go and check what the fuck is going on with your husband but you are forbidden to enter his wing. Per his rule.

'Y/N... just walk away. Walk away and pretend you didn't hear anything. That's how its supposed to be...' you say to yourself in your head as you take a step back and try to act like nothing happened.

Just move on. You keep repeating as you turn your back. You know he'll not like it, you being nosy.

*******

[7 months & 1 week into the marriage]

"What is it?" He asks as he flips the page of the book he's reading.

"Oh...S-sorry..." you lower your head again and just continued pretending reading the book you have in hand.

He caught you staring at him. But to be more specific, staring at his injured shoulder. This is the first you guys spent time together again. He was gone for awhile. Their doctor insisted that he need to get an operation as his injury was serious.

Yoongi denied him so many times. Even the doctor explained the danger that it would caused him and the injury really damaging his shoulder. He's very hard headed.

But you are glad that eventually, he said yes to the operation. Everyone is relieved when Mrs. Min, his mom, got to force him out of his dungeon and straight to the hospital.

"Are you even actually reading that book?" Yoongi shuts the book he have on hand and throws it on the sofa he's sitting on.

"Ahm..." your eyes shake. "I am..."

"Okay then... what is it about?"

You lift the book more to cover your face. "A young girl... fell in love with a vampire... but the vampire does not like her... so she tries his best to find a way to be... a vampire too... coz maybe... he'll like her back." You made it up. Sort of. You barely finished reading chapter 15.

"Really?"

"Uhum..." you hum and flip a page to act like you are still reading.

Yoongi shakes his head, "What a dumb book." He mumbles.

"Why do you think it is dumb?"

He rolls his eyes. "Why would she want to be a vampire if the vampire does not even like her in the first place. What would that change? That's a bit pathetic of her and stupid"

You lower the book onto your lap and shut it slowly. "Yeah... I guess you're right..."

His comment about the book sort of hit you in the heart. Since you kind a share the same story of the female lead. You are not in love but you try so hard to be accepted and be liked by him, your husband. Though you know it will never happen. He only likes to fuck you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"My mother wants to have lunch with you on the weekend. Be available." He says as he is focused on his phone probably reading emails.

'I'm always available.' You say in your head. 'How can I not be? I'm just at home and no where to go to.'

"Okay." You answer as you put down the book down beside you.

He is busy looking down at his phone now. Again. And just like that the room became so silent. You are just literally there to accompany him while he sits down in his home office and do whatever business he do. He do his work at home since he cannot report yet to work.

*beeps*

Your phone blinks as you receive a new message. It is a message from your friend back home, Taehyung. He's asking you how are you and also giving you updates about everything that has been going on in your small town. His simple text and updates every now and then really makes you smile. It is a simple thing that you look forward to every now and then. Since, lately, you have been loosing your smile day by day.

"What's funny?" He asks, not even looking at you

You put your phone down. "N-nothing... sorry...."

********

[11 months into the marriage]

Your wedding anniversary is coming soon and for some reason you are excited about it. You are not giggling to yourself or kicking off your feet when you are in bed alone thinking about it, however, you are really looking forward to it. For some reason, you want to celebrate it. It is a milestone for you. A simple achievement.

"Here you go, Miss." Your maid pulls out this mini plunging floral print dress with long sleeves from the hanger. You bought this online a few weeks ago. You think it is a cute dress to wear today. It is not fancy nor expensive but you like it. "Where to go today, Miss?"

You get up from the chair and undo your robe, revealing a cute pair of undergarment. "Nothing special... I just.... want to go out."

"I'll inform the driver then to get ready."

"Thank you." You take the dress from her hand so she could go on and inform the driver.

You have nothing to do today. Yoongi is out of town again and you have no schedules so you decided to go and visit your friend back home.

***

"Y/N!" Taehyung runs towards you and embraces you the moment you got out of the car. "Long time no see!" He then pats your head and pinches your cheek.

"Long time..." you answer then pulling back a little as you see his little sister running from afar. "Mia!" Bending down so you could welcome the little cutie's hug. "I've missed you! Oh my gosh! You've grown so much!"

"She's now two... can you believe it?" Taehyung says

"Oh dear!" You carry her and kisses her chubby cheeks. "I want to eat your cute little cheeks!" You tease her, making her giggle.

"Glad you had time to visit."

"Yeah... My husband is away so... I made plans."

"Why? Does he not allow you to go out?"

"No... not like that... he's busy and I got busy as well which is... new. And I'm still adjusting..."

It is true that Yoongi does not limit you with going out. It's just that you were and still adjusting big time to everything. The lifestyle, the household and Him. He is the big adjustment in your life right now.

"So, how's married life? I mean... married life with one of the richest man in the country?"

You exhale as smile. "Weird?"

"Weird? In what way?"

A lot of things. The lavish life is very nice in the beginning and exciting but then as time goes by you get very overwhelmed by the new things and items that comes in every now and then. Plus you don't repeat that much clothes which is very icky for you coz every dress and clothing is expensive so you want to wear them as much as possible.

Luckily, Yoongi didn't mind when you told him to not ask his stylists to buy you new clothes every release. You told him you wanted to buy on your own and just ask for consultation when you need to.

"Not used to it yet." Then you look behind you. "Even going around with a maid and a bodyguard."

He looks back and sees the two person standing a few feet away. "Oh... right."

"Play! Play!" Little Mia mumbles as she points at their house

"Play what?" You ask

"Ah, Dad built her a play house at the back. She likes to go their and play pretend house with her dolls." Taehyung explains

"I see.." you kiss little Mia's cheek again. "Let's play?"

"Yayaya!" Little Mia squeals in joy.

***

You spent quite a few hours at your friend's house. You even met a few old neighbors and classmates as well, catching up with their own lives and everything. It was fun. You enjoyed talking with them, finally talking this much again like before. It was refreshing.

However, along the talkings, you find it amusing that most of them got married as well after you and one is already expecting a baby and the other one is excited to go on a trip with his husband. Their stories of marriage is very different than yours. Their stories are very warm and thrilling while yours have a lot of activities yes, but the warmth, you don't have that.

You felt your smile fade away as the conversations continues. You also felt small and be like the other kid that's missing out a lot.

Taehyung even noticed it. He put his arm around you and gave you a 'it's okay' look. He knows what you are already feeling though he didn't asked what was on your mind. He just knew you needed a little nudge.

"Warm bath, miss?" Your maid asks as you both exit the elevator.

You got home already. You were knocked out on the way home.

"Maybe later?" You say.

"Understood."

"Thank you for today... you can go and rest for a bit. I'll just call you if I need you."

She bows. "Miss." And then walks off

You sigh heavily, closing your eyes shut for a few seconds before you decide to go to your study room. You want complete isolation and probably sit down at your favorite spot, the window seat and watch the sunset. Your study room have the best view of the sunset.

Pushing the window slightly open to let the crispy cool air in, then kicking your shoes off your feet as you lean your head out a bit and take in the fresh air.

The small smile you are wearing instantly vanishes as a thought comes in your head again.

Taehyung did talked to you before you left earlier. Besides asking you to visit often, he suddenly asked you if you're happy. Of course you said yes but deep inside, you question yourself. 'Am I?'

"Yah! Yoongi! You promised me that yatch so you should get me that yatch!"

You suddenly hear a woman's voice from afar. You have never heard anyone talk that loud ever in this house. So it made you curious. You peak your head out again from your window and start to look around where it comes from. And then when your eyes lands on the view of the driveway, you see Yoongi walking towards the car where Mr. Kim is waiting, holding the door and then a woman following your husband.

"Hey... don't ignore me!" She runs after Yoongi and hooks her arm to his.

It stunned you. You never hooked your arms around Yoongi's before. They.... look close. Who is she?

You see Yoongi talk to her, making an exhausted face. He looks so done and just want her to leave. But at the same time, it's not like he does not want to talk to her. Actually, he looks a bit relaxed talking to her.

Compared to you. He is strict, always serious and bored.

"Buy me the yatch!" She says again before he gets into the car.

You didn't hear what Yoongi answered. He just waved his hands and Mr. Kim shuts the door and goes to the passenger seat and leave with the unknown girl.

Before Yoongi could turn around and catch you, you instantly get back in and shut the window.

*****

[1st Anniversary]

"Good morning, Miss." Your maid enters your room and bows as she always does.

"Is he home?"

"Master left early this morning."

"Really..." you softly say. You sound sad and disappointed. "Did he say where is he going and what time will he back?"

"Sorry, Miss. Master didn't mention anything nor Mr. Kim."

"Hmm... okay then."

You had your hopes up. How stupid of you to think that he will celebrate with you. Hoping that maybe, even just for special occassions like this he could atleast be present.

It is a tough year for you. All through out this whole year, the only thing that is constant for your smile fading away. Yeah you are a bit light and always trying to be positive about the two of you. But since now its your one year into this marriage, officially 1st anniversary, and he is still like this. Maybe it's better you stop smiling already. It breaking your heart every time.

"Maybe he's with her." You mumble. "She's more of a good company than I am..." you flop on your bed and cover yourself with your duvet.

"Shall I get ready your outfits, Miss?"

"No.... just... sorry... can you please leave me alone for awhile?"

"I'll be outside."

Hearing the door closing, finally you let loose of yourself. For the first time, you are crying because of Him. Sobbing. You don't know why you are but it just felt right. You are disappointed, tired and feel unappreciated. Though you know how this thing between you two is, even you tell it to yourself hundred of times, you can't stop your own self to care and not try. You don't want to be a burden for him. You don't want to take advantage of his money. You don't want to act like you don't give a fuck. You don't want to not like him.

Yoongi is still a person, a man and you are a woman. Though you know that you don't love him you still like him. He is a kind person and giving though he is strict and have tons of rules for you but you don't care. And you don't know why you don't care.

It is very confusing for you. You are not even sure now what you are feeling. You just want him to notice you and just to... care. Maybe? Even just a little bit. ;(

You continue to cry and cry until your heart feels as numb as your eyes. You want to let it all out now to get over with your feelings. He can't see you emotional. He can't see that you care. Because if he did, maybe it will make him change his mind and let you go.

****************

[Day after 1st anniversary]

"Here's your coffee, Sir." Mr. Kim cautiously puts his cup of coffee in his desk while Yoongi is busy talking to his staff online

He did woke up early today even though he finished work late as well. He is already in his home office at 4am and very busy already. He had a few early meetings with time differences to think of.

"Can't you all fucking handle this? It's not like the task is hard!" He is scowling at the two men at the corner of the screen as he take a hit of his cigarette. "I assigned you to collect these because I know you could handle those mother fuckers. What happened?!?"

"Our mistake, Sir." One starts, "We didn't expected him to resist since it's their frist time dealing with us."

"Hmmm." Yoongi smashes his cigar on the ash tray. "Bring in your men tomorrow morning before dawn and show them how we deal with fuckers like him. And tell them this is us being super nice."

"Yes sir."

"Let's end this now. Just inform me when it's all sorted."

"Understood sir."

Yoongi then slams his laptap close and then grabs his cup of coffee to drink.

"What's my schedule for today?"

Mr. Kim then checks the ipad on his hand. "Nothing sir..."

"Nothing?" Yoongi frowns. "What you mean nothing?"

Mr. Kim looks at him and tries to see if Yoongi would realize what day it is today. "I guess you really forgot."

"Forgot what?" Yoongi puts down the coffee and pulls his phone out of his pocket to see what day it is. "So, you are telling me you didn't scheduled any work today because of my wedding anniversary yesterday?"

"Yes."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and leans back to his chair. "We have a lot of collections to do, Mr. Kim."

"I know sir. But one day of rest would not hurt." He says, "with your wife."

Raising his brow, Yoongi does not show any hint of any emotion. Mr. Kim could not sense if he's okay with it or not.

Sighing, "Ready the car." Yoongi orders the man standing by the door.

"Where are you going, Sir?" Mr. Kim questions

Yoongi didn't answer though. He just stood up and started walking to exit his office. He even told his men and even Mr. Kim to not follow him which confused most of them.

"Where do you think Master going today?" The young guard asks

Mr. Kim smiles and says, "Not sure where... but looks like he's visiting his wife first."

And he is right. Yoongi is actually stomping his way towards the other wing of the mansion where Y/N's room is located.

"Master." Two maids who are walking along the hallways this early, cleaning, sees him and greets him.

"Is she awake?"

"No sir. Not yet...."

He stops just at her door. "She's usually up early. Right?"

"Yes, master." One answer, "she do get up early... but not today..."

"Is she sick?"

"No... but..." then the maid pauses and lookd hesitant.

"What is it?" Yoongi turns to see why the maid stopped.

"Well...." she lowers her voice. "We heard that... Miss cried so much yesterday."

"Cried?" Yoongi's forehead creases with confusion

"Yes." Both maid answers

"Hmm..." Yoongi then faces Y/N's wooden door and just stayed still for a good few seconds.

"Do you want us to wake her up, Master?" One asks

"No..." he utters as he hold onto the door handle. "Please go ahead and prepare breakfast so when she wakes up at sunrise she could eat...and also... just... leave us alone for a moment..."

Both maids look at each other, surpressing a smile. They know Yoongi is worried about his wife though their master seems to not notice it himself. They find it amusing how their master is... changing. It is very minimal and not really noticable unless you have known him for quite sometime. But it is a big thing.

"We'll let the others know..." the other says, pertaining to not disturb the couple

***

Upon entering Y/N's room, Yoongi finds his wife sleeping so soundly on her queen size bed. Her arms are on her side, spreadout like they are her wings and about to fly. Her eyes, he can see how puffy they are. And her expression, she looks like she really did fell asleep crying. She even fell asleep on the buttom end of her bed.

She's adorable.

"Why did you cried?" Yoongi asks softly as he runs his knuckles on her cheek. "Is it because of me...?" He goes down to sit on the bedroom bench and picks up the book that must've fallen on the floor. "Or is it because... of this book...?" He places the book back on the bed and leans in, to fix her douvet. "I hope it's the latter... don't cry because of me... it's not worth it." He then removes the hair strands covering her face. "also.... I didn't forgot" he then bends over more before planting a soft and delicate kiss on her lips whilst making sure he won't wake her up. "Happy anniversary Y/N..." his eyes scans her face one more time before kissing her again. But this time on her forehead and whispered. "Just wait a bit more..."

***

"Sir..." Mr. Kim bows as Yoongi returns to his home office. "The car is ready..."

However, Yoongi didn't responded. He just walk pass Mr. Kim and go to stand by his office window.

"Is everything alright, Sir?"

Closing his eyes, Yoongi tries to organize his thoughts.

"Mr. Kim..."

"Yes, sir?"

Yoongi opens his eyes, just in time for the a hint of light peaks through the dark sky. "Can you please call my lawyer..."

"Sir?" Mr. Kim wonders why Yoongi suddenly wants him to contact a lawyer. "May I ask, which one?"

Yoongi turns around to face him. "Call Mr. Choi..."

Processing in his mind why Yoongi would like to call the lawyer than made their prenup and marriage contract alk of a sudden. "Okay sir... but may I ask for what reason?"

Yoongi picks up his pack of cigarette and pulls out one stick using his lips. "Just bring him in. I need to talk to him. Privately.... Asap."

"Understood, Sir."

Next: Fate

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93 @goodbyetwenty @baechugff

@amyz78 @qeen123 @armystay89 @bangtannie7

455 notes · View notes

byeol-ssi · 2 years

Note

Heloo! I loved reading you "sharing a bed" trop it was amazing 😭 would you mind if i request one with the tot men? 🥺

Your work stays awesome as always 😭😭

hearts sealed by starlight

✦ artem wing. luke pearce. marius von hagen. vyn richter. x gn!reader

✦ tags: sharing a bed (completely SFW, although slightly suggestive jokes are made in marius' part) + various tropes. slight spoilers for luke's part if you've never played through his personal story.

artem wing *. ⋆ fake dating relationship

"ARTEM?" your tentative voice comes out as a whisper of sound.

artem hums in response. it was beginning to feel like, somehow, the silence had gotten louder now that you were both settled in for the night — with you occupying the bed, and artem laying on his makeshift cot on the floor.

your head pops out from above, and you look straight into his eyes with what seemed like surprise.

"you haven't fallen asleep." a statement, not a question.

work had been exhausting, to say the least. on the other hand, he was uncharacteristically wide awake despite the fatigue he'd accumulated throughout the past few days.

artem sighs through a smile. "it appears you haven't as well."

a beat. then, "would you like to come up and talk?"

"about?"

"anything, really!" your head peeks further out in your sudden burst of excitement, the blanket around your shoulders slipping. "let's just think of this as a sleepover. we can even share the bed!"

his forehead creases, "we never discussed, nor drafted a written testimony, should an event like ... bed-sharing occur during our agreed time together within the scope of our contract."

"artem, it's fine. it's not like i would file a lawsuit against you." you shook your head, laughing. "i probably wouldn't win anyway. so, come up."

he frowns. if he was being truly honest, the contract and terms were there more for his sake, since artem doesn't really know if he could control himself around you without them in place.

but then you're already scooting over, and he finds himself swiftly slipping in beside you.

the sheets rustled as adjustments were made, and you both soon realized with slight, sinking, horror that the bed was much smaller than you anticipated — evident in the way your skin inevitably brushed against his with every movement.

you clear your throat, offering him a sheepish smile. "i think people will definitely believe our story now ... but you still seem worried."

"although i do trust the judgment of celestine and my peers, i sometimes wonder if i'd gone too far in trying to protect my reputation," he admits quietly. "i'm likewise ashamed for involving you like this."

aside from the strain that came regularly with his responsibilities, artem found himself under extreme pressure and criticism from his environment.

somehow, being single while he neared his thirties labeled him as "unreliable and untrustworthy", and the firm subsequently saw a decline in clients.

this unfortunate reality is what brought him to you. by agreeing to become his pretend (keyword being, pretend. other synonyms included: fake, not real, an act) romantic partner, artem would be able to secure his image.

"hey. we do what we need to survive." you slid a hand across the bed and threaded your fingers with his. "and also, i've never been this happy before. so, i want you to stop burdening yourself with guilt."

he swallows, trying to ignore the warmth that spread from your touch and your voice — so soft and incredibly kind.

artem throws an arm over your stomach, keeping you as close as possible. skinship and other forms of physical contact were deliberated upon prior to this entire scheme, although nothing in your agreement explicitly stated that these had to be made only within public view.

artem only hopes you don't report him for taking advantage of this loophole. "you might fall off," he reasons out.

fitting yourself against the length of his body, your answering smile is warm, sweet, and playful. "swear to fall with me?"

"i swear," he vows, and nothing more is exchanged between you that night. when the moon rises high enough to peek through the clouds, you've already fallen fast asleep in his arms.

and artem stays awake throughout, wondering if he should someday reveal the truth of his worries.

what he expressed earlier wasn't a complete lie, but truthfully, he's becoming less concerned with preserving his name the longer he spends in your presence and focusing more on figuring out how to keep you as his.

because artem no longer cared if this was all fake, as long as he could stay by your side.

luke pearce *. ⋆ reluctant allies to lovers

"you never said anything about us sharing a room," LUKE snaps brusquely, trapping the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "i only agreed to this because you insisted that we could find a potential cure around here."

"just think of it as a vacation! you don't need any added stress, so don't worry about it and have fun. but not too much fun, if you catch my meaning. also, try to keep your hands to your —"

luke promptly ends the phone call as he steps back into the bedroom. two lamps had been left burning by the bedside tables, casting the space in a soft, warm glow.

you were already tucked into bed, cream-colored sheets dipping with the shape of your figure. you look up when he enters, setting the tablet in your hands aside. "was that doctor aaron?"

luke nods, dropping to the armchair. he rubs his forehead, trying to center himself. he's aware that he was being irrational, a far cry from his usual self.

the tension hanging precariously between you both wasn't the most ideal as well — another issue he admitted to being the cause for acting so cold and standoffish.

you purse your lips. "is something wrong? did he have any new leads?"

"no, no. he was just ..." playing matchmaker where his services were clearly unwanted, his mind provided. he coughs into his fist. "checking in."

an awkward silence ensues, one you break by nodding to where he was sitting. "okay ... are you sure you're comfortable sleeping there?"

"i've slept in a lot worse places. this is fine."

a sigh leaves your lips. "you don't have to. we can share, alright?" you propose, more forcefully this time. "i'd rather not have dr. aaron find out and scold me for not taking care of my patient."

ah, right. it wasn't unusual to find yourselves paired up frequently and you've played plenty of roles together in the past — albeit begrudgingly on luke's part.

and when you accidentally learn about his illness, you agreed to become his nurse/investigative partner as per the meddlesome doctor's request.

why? luke has absolutely no clue.

it takes all of his self-restraint to not glare at the bed, which would be the bane of his existence for the next ten hours.

"fine," he concedes. he lifts one side of the sheets, revealing your bare legs underneath. there wasn't anything remotely scandalous about your nightwear, but he squeezes the phone in his hands, terrifyingly similar to how a scandalized victorian woman would clutch her pearls.

he placed the gadget down with much more force than intended, and hopped into bed as quickly as humanely possible.

a cool palm — yours, he realizes — presses itself unannounced on his forehead, brushing away his bangs. he sits up jerkily, confident he was redder than a tomato.

"luke, you look like you're burning up. have you taken your medicine? how about some water?" you soothe gently, raising your hands to show you meant no harm. "or would you like me to leave? i can find somewhere else to stay the night, no problem."

and this is exactly why he dislikes working with you.

he doesn't even know you that well — has been trying not to learn more, has been doing his utmost to keep his distance — and yet, you relentlessly look out for him without making him feel as if he was glass.

and all luke wants to do is surrender.

he blew out another frustrated breath, stubbornly denying how you made him feel. it wouldn't be right. it wouldn't be fair. he shouldn't aspire for the bond between you to develop into something more.

not when he'd be leaving you too.

and so, he remains resolute in his decision to push you away — like all the other times in the past.

before you got too close. before his heart fell any further.

"it's nothing," he rasps, swinging a leg over the bed. "you should get some rest."

"do you ... want me to hold you?"

luke's entire brain halts, as does his attempt to escape. "wha — what?!" he sputters, heat climbing up even further on his cheeks.

"i heard it helps," you shrug. a yawn eclipses the next words that leave you. "doctor aaron said so."

he almost groans. luke should decline. conjure some sort of excuse or half-ass lie. drive the wedge between you even deeper than it already is — once and for all.

yet, when he clears the thickness lodged in his throat, something else comes out of his mouth entirely.

"yeah?"

you nod, motioning for him to come closer. "yeah."

he blinks. just this once, he convinces himself.

"okay." his nerves settle when he shuffles hesitantly into your waiting arms. his arms wrap around your torso as you settle back down on the mattress, burrowing deeper with his weight above you.

your hand starts carding through his hair, the sensation so relaxing that his eyes begin to droop shut. without thinking, he breathes you in, calming his heart in the process.

after a long while — when more stars eventually come out of their slumber and take their place in the night sky — you whisper, "are you feeling much better?"

he does. but that didn't mean he wanted to let you go.

"could we stay like this a bit longer?" he mumbles, lips grazing your collar bone.

you don't deny him. "sure, luke. as long as you want."

marius von hagen *. ⋆ arranged marriage

"you can take the left side," MARIUS offers, quietly going around the hotel room and flicking off the lamps.

you embrace the soft pillow in your hands a little tighter, trying to ease the nervousness quivering in your stomach. you find refuge in the queen-sized bed — which was ironic, considering that the bed was the last place you should be in given your present circumstances.

"is this another one of your cheesy pick-up lines?" you joke, attempting to lighten the subtly-charged air by adding, "because you're always right?"

the corner of his lips twitch the slightest before he shakes his head in amusement. "i am. but also because you always sleep on the left."

the sky had already deepened to a purple haze that reminded you of marius's gaze as you regard one another silently for a drawn-out beat.

your eyebrows draw up when his observation slowly sinks in, and you likewise couldn't help the suspicion that laces your tone. "i do? how do you know that?"

"you're my spouse." he shrugs easily. the bed shifts as he settles in next to you; the rustling of covers accompanying his movements. "these are things i should know."

you ignore the way your pulse trips over itself. instead, you flipped on your side to face him, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "but we've never even ..."

marius raises an eyebrow, and the smirk that followed after spelled purely of mischief.

"what? slept together?"

at your appalled expression, marius tips his head back and bursts into laughter, his hair a splash of color on the satin sheets. you're certain the warmth surging up your neck could rival even the hottest of stars.

"why would you phrase it in that manner," you grumble, sitting up and smacking him playfully with a pillow.

it was true. you've been married for a couple of months now, but still slept in separate bedrooms. he'd generously offered you a space of your own at his own house, and you'd always managed to get adjoining rooms during business trips.

this time, however, your parents were adamant about finally sending you off on a honeymoon they planned and prepared for — much like your marriage, and everything else that concerned your relationship — when you both initially refused and made excuses to take one shortly after the wedding.

his arm shoots out to grab hold of the pillow, bringing it down to catch a clearer view of your face. he stares at you for a few seconds, his expression softening, but his smile never slips.

"i check on you every night whenever i arrive home from work."

oh.

"and despite how spacious the bed is, i somehow always find you taking up the left side," marius continues, completely unaware of how your heart just shot itself up your throat.

"it's not really meant for one," you answer breathlessly, awkwardly huffing out a laugh. your hands fiddle with the edge of the pillow, "maybe we should start ... you know."

"sleeping together?" he unhelpfully — and too cheerfully — supplies.

your entire face bursts into flames again, but you refuse to let it show. "yes. you're my husband." you stick your chin up, feigning nonchalance. "it's only natural for married couples to share a bed. it'll also allow us to become more comfortable with one another in the future."

he'd be yours for real, if only you knew, and if only you asked.

carefully, he brushes your cheek with his knuckles, the ring on his finger glinting in the dark. "if it's alright with you."

"it is." you lean into his touch. certain you won't be running away from him anytime soon, he opens his arms out to you.

you duck your head to conceal your smile, laying your cheek against the center of his chest.

"but only sleep. no funny business, mr. von hagen."

marius wonders if you could hear the beating of his heart sounding out your name.

"i would never. sweet dreams, mx. von hagen."

vyn richter *. ⋆ childhood best friends to lovers

a hesitant knock resounds on VYN's bedroom door. he glances at the grandfather clock, takes note of the time, and smiles inwardly.

it seemed like you'd never changed.

"come in," he calls out.

the door creaks open, and your head peeks in first, your shoulders and the rest of your body obscured behind the polished wood.

"hey."

"good evening. was the bedroom not to your tastes?" he asks, something that sounded very similar to amusement lacing his voice.

embarrassment flickers across your face before your eyes narrow in defense. "no, you know exactly why i'm here. can i please stay?"

"you're very welcome to. come in," he repeats, already fixing the sheets and fluffing the pillows to your desired liking.

you finally step in, closing the door behind you and heading straight for his bed. he stifles a laugh when you flop down — ruining his handiwork — and pat the space next to you.

he complies, although he settles in much more gracefully. "i presume you were experiencing some difficulties falling asleep?"

"it's nothing new." you nod, throwing the duvet covers across both of you. it flutters down similar to a butterfly's ceasing wings, cocooning you together.

"you're aware that i am a licensed psychiatrist, right?"

"how could i ever forget your two doctorate degrees?" you snort, rolling your eyes playfully. "you only mention them like — all the time."

he chuckles, lightly pinching your nose. "do not play smart with me," he tuts fondly, evading your attempts to swat his hand away.

you tackle him into an embrace instead, which he reciprocates. when you've both quieted from your fit of laughter, his hand moves to rub circles on your shoulder blade.

"still, you know that i can help you with this." he urges, more earnestly now.

you shook your head. truth be told, your response is one he's already predicted, but it wouldn't hurt to try and convince you once more. convince you like he's done for several years already.

"you're my best friend. i don't want you to take a look inside my brain. that's just weird and scary," you'd whispered to him on an evening similar to this. only this time, the features he's long memorized on your face were a whole lot younger.

"why not?" vyn prods. "it wouldn't change anything."

"you can't promise that. not when there might be something truly wrong with me. or even worse, you'll bear witness to pieces of me that might lead you to regret ever becoming my friend."

'impossible. i adore you too deeply, and cherish our memories together too fondly, to ever consider any part of you unsightly,' he'd wanted to argue back then.

he only refrained from doing so and bit his tongue because that would mean upsetting the delicate thread in which your relationship hung.

it would mean crossing the line of platonic and leaving the safe barriers of "in-betweens". and vyn was not about to hastily gamble it all away with a poorly thought-out confession.

neither of you needed to say it aloud, but losing one another was yours, and his, greatest fear.

"nah, s'okay. i fall asleep just fine whenever i'm with you." you yawn, bringing him out of his fleeting flashback while you snuggle deeper into his side — far too close to be "just best friends".

"really now?" he murmurs, masking the satisfaction that fills his heart and threatens to bleed into his tone. he presses you closer to his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist, intent to hold you like he's done so, so many times before.

you hum, looking up at him one last time with a dazed smile on your face. "yeah. your bed is always much more comfortable than mine. maybe i should find one similar to yours."

or you can stay here, in my arms, forever, vyn thinks. he doesn't mind waking up with dead, aching, limbs for the rest of his life as long as your face was the first thing he woke up to each morning.

"sleep now," he tucks your head underneath his chin. "or else you'll keep me up all night with your rambling."

"you adore my rambling," you add petulantly.

even though you never said the words to each other, both of you knew.

"i do. now, rest. wake me if you must," vyn says over your head.

i love you.

"mhm. good night, vyn."

i love you too.

✦ byeol’s notes: just to be clear, these were submitted waaay before i closed my requests. i worked on this quite late since i wanted to prioritize my event first, so i apologize for the exremely long wait!

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you and ily ♡

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insipid-drivel · 2 years

Text

Southern Colloquialisms To Enrage ESL Bloggers:

I see a few posts asking international and other tumblr bloggers to supply the literal English translations to common colloquial phrases for the sake of the sheer silliness, strangeness, and outright lunacy of what happens when you take a colloquialism and take it literally (Factoid: linguists refer to this process as “Pidgin”)

But what about Southern colloquialisms from the United States that don’t even make sense in their native language? Hello! My great-great grandmother was born in a ditch outside of a mud house with mud floors in the Dust Bowl in the United States and I didn’t know I had a Southern accent until my friends in the Pacific Northwest pointed it out!

I have relatives from all along the Bible Belt, aka the “Old South” that, you know... Yeah. A few of my cousins are awesome people and we trade notes over ridiculous phrases our relatives and elders used that we never understood, but accepted on a spiritual level. Here are some I grew up with:

“Got myself a short cold.” - “I have seasonal allergies and just mowed the lawn.”

“Oh, crap and molasses!” - “I forgot something at home and we’re already almost to our destination and I don’t want to swear in front of polite company and small children.”

“Eating high on the hog tonight!” - “We’re not eating scrap cuts and offal for dinner because steaks were 2-for-1 today.”

“Hoecake” - A form of pancake or “Johnny Cake” made from corn meal instead of flour. They’re delicious.

“Catawampus” or “Cattywampus” - “I’m gonna have to wash that off the ceiling but at least it worked. It’s messy.”

“Piddling” and “Piddly” - Any worthless or time-wasting endeavor or result that helps no one. “This paycheck is plum piddly, hoss. Quit piddlin’ ‘round and gimme that re-GI-nal manager’s job y’all know I’m qualified for.”

“Hoss” - “Boss” that you also think could probably beat the crap out of you behind an alley for catching you cheating at pool.

“That boy’s bigger’n a brick shithouse.” - “Your physique and muscular stature is intimidating to the degree that I am complimenting you by comparing you to a solid structure everyone would regret trying to knock down.”

“Crazier’n a shithouse rat.” - “Dude, please talk to a psychiatrist.”

“Doohickey” - Any object or concept you can’t remember the name of but need urgently. Often accompanied by aggressive hand waving in the approximate direction of said object without actually looking at it.

“Y’all better hush up back there!” - Your grandmother’s polite way of warning you she’s going to take a flyswatter to your ass if you don’t shut the fuck up in Church.

“Y’all’d’ve” - A real contraction I can’t even stop myself from using meaning “You all should/would have” and am leaving here just for the English majors out there.

“Dude” - A completely urbanized individual who has no idea how to live or function in a rural or wild setting without technology and utilities and can’t ride a horse or milk a cow.

“Proudboy” - Oh yes, it was already a thing. In Southern slang, a “Proudboy” is a neutered male horse that still acts like he’s a badass stallion the mares will want to mate with. “Poor proudboy ain’t noticed yet, bless his heart.”

“Bless his/hers/your heart.” - “Because the Good Lord sure didn’t bless your head.” It’s also used as a heartfelt form of “Thank you” when someone goes out of their way to offer you a kind and thoughtful gesture. Context is important.

“Don’t let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya.” - “You are no longer welcome in this space and if you don’t leave now I’m literally going to slam the door on your ass.”

“Living in high cotton” - “I have achieved fiscal success and am using a colloquial term to refer to it without considering the fact that the term originated out of slave plantations.”

“If the creek don’t rise.” - Basically “Knock on wood.” A term meaning, “I’ve prepared for everything but what I can’t prepare for or anticipate and will achieve my goal so long as it is within my power to do it.” Bonus points if you pronounce “creek” as “crick”.

“Fixin’ to” - Another polite way of indicating you’re about to aggressively undertake a task. “I’m fixin’ to whip ya ass, son.” This is not to be confused with “Fixin’s” singular, which refers to the ingredients or catalysts required to cook or complete something that requires assembly.

“Doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” - A hill of beans is a Southern unit of measurement for anything that remains worthless regardless of how much of it you have, much like NFTs. “Your anti-TERF ‘sources’ don’t amount to a hill of beans, proudboy.”

“(Way) Over yonder” - “It’s over there, and the number of times I repeat the word ‘way’ prior to ‘over’ is indicative of how much yonder is between you and there. Sorry, what’s a yonder? You just asked me to show you! It’s way, way over there! Bless your heart...”

“Madder than a wet hen.” - “Oops, you have reached ‘yikes’ level of pissed off. Better skedaddle!”

“Skedaddle” - “RUN AWAY FAST NOW AAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

“It’s blowin’ up a storm.” - The sensory indicators of an oncoming heavy storm or hurricane that presents with the smell of ozone, high humidity, and an abrupt drop in temperature. Yes, it’s a thing; I can also smell when a storm’s gathering and it is a distinct set of very subtle odors.

“Pretty as a peach.” - “That individual whose pronouns are irrelevant but is most commonly a woman or proud of rocking a femme aesthetic is exceptionally beautiful and I admire them.”

“Busy as a cat on a hot tin roof.” - “We’re overburdened and understaffed to the point that I am numb to all forms of communication that don’t involve someone being on fire.”

“Aren’t you precious.” - Not a question unless it begins with “Well,”. Depending on tone, it either is a high compliment toward someone’s appearance or behavior being exceptional, or as a sarcastic response to when someone says something insulting to you. “Awww, you’re so sweet, baby sister!” vs. “That insult was just adorable.”

“Yes Sir/Ma’am/Mx” - Also applies to “No”. Answering a question with “Sir”, “Ma’am”, or “Mx” to someone that is your age or older is just considered universally respectful in polite conversation. If a Southern person suddenly stops answering your questions with your preferred pronouns or never does at all, it probably means they have 0 respect for you. When the small niceties disappear, you’ve fucked up.

“Frunchard” - “Front yard”, the opposite of the back yard.

“Quit being ugly.” - “Stop being an asshole.”

“He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.” - “You’re so stupidly full of yourself you’d probably honestly believe the sun rises and sets just for you.”

“That dog won’t hunt.” - “I know you believe it’s a good idea, but uh... it’s not.” Also used in place of replying to a person’s excuse you know is 100% bullshit.

“Well, I declare...” - “I am about to obliquely reveal broad adjectives reflective of my emotional state or opinion about this state of affairs and you should probably prepare yourself for more nonsensical colloquialisms.”

“My eyeballs are floating.” - “I need to pee so badly it isn’t going to be an option very, very soon.”

“Can’t never could.” - “Can’t never could do nothing!” That’s... that’s literally it. I can’t elaborate any more than saying it’s a term indicating you’re feeling optimistic.

“Give him two nickels for a dime and he’ll think he’s rich.” - “This person’s stupidity is physically painful to experience.”

“That makes me wanna slap my mama!” - “I am so impressed/pleased with that experience that we’ve circled around to domestic violence somehow.”

“You could start an argument in an empty house.” - “Go to anger management classes.”

“Ain’t got the good sense God gave a rock.” - “I cannot fathom this level of lack of common sense and forethought and require divine intervention immediately.”

“Slicker than pig snot on a radiator.” - “That person is the Webster’s definition of a scumbag.”

“About as useless as a screen door on a submarine.” - I think that one is pretty self-explanatory.

“There’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fix.” - “There’s someone out there for everyone. Don’t give up on finding love and companionship just because you’re different.”

#southern slang

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transmutationisms · 5 months

Note

(If you're alrght with another poorly articulated question from an obnoxious high schooler) Do you have thoughts on academics and their position in a labor framework? I know some grad students and have never been quite sure where they fit because they don't always work with "capital" in a traditional sense. Professors are odd to me because they are under university contract, but rather than get paid by the university they often get their own funding from the government. Or graduate sudents, who are often unionized, but I know a paleontology student who studies shark fossils who says he doesnt really consider what he does "making surplus value."

ok well that last person is simply confused lol. graduate students exist because the university profits from having us; it is a capitalist institution. most directly we usually work as teaching assistants or research assistants (or else pay tuition) and more indirectly, graduate programs get funding and university support because their existence contributes to a university's rankings, prestige factor, &c, which is to say its (perceived) profitability. plenty of us study things that don't produce much directly lucrative research, but this does not mean the university keeps us around for shits and giggles or some kind of laudatory interest in knowledge for its own sake. it is a capitalist institution and acts in the financial interest of its owners / beneficiaries.

anyway wrt faculty members, they are also employed by the university because it profits from them (or hopes to, anyway). i think many people get confused by tenureship; tenure is indeed fairly cushy as far as employment contracts go, but it is is still an employment contract, and most faculty are not actually tenured anyway. academics are a classic example of the 'professional-managerial class', which is not a marxian term but is a useful one for identifying those 'upper-middle class' members differentiated by their professional qualifications and status; the prestige and perceived utility of academic knowledge production is partially what makes academics an attractive target for a lot of government and NGO funding. state funding of academic research ofc has numerous functions but, and not to put too fine a point on it, a capitalist state also invests money in things because it is hoping for some kind of return on investment, eg in the form of directly profitable inventions, soft power, &c.

there are distinctions here between different academic employment statuses. an adjunct or contingent hire is paid by the university solely to teach, making their labourer status fairly straightforward. with tenured or tenure-track positions, yes there may also be money coming from outside; however, this doesn't negate the fact that the university is trying to profit from its faculty (else it wouldn't hire them). the professional-managerial class has certain characteristics of both proletariat and bourgeoisie, and there is some variation between academics as a very select few do attain the kind of household name status that can turn them into basically a personal brand. again though: the university wants to extract value from the work (both teaching and research) of academics it hires, and so do outside sources of funding for research projects. knowledge production should not be mystified or abstracted in ways that obfuscate the financial interests of involved parties; though it attains a prestige that few other commodities do, this is still a process that is embedded within the overall operating logics of capitalism.

an additional consideration wrt internal academic class politics is that many faculty use graduate students, postdocs, and even undergrads to perform or assist with their research. these arrangements vary in structure (and between disciplines) but in general, this does mean that many academics produce papers, books, &c that depend upon the labour of many people and rarely compensate these people equally to themselves. this can take the form of a more overtly employer-employee relationship between a professor and their underlings (for example, some labs are run this way) or it can be the case that it's another party (a publisher, say) who is reaping most of the surplus value squeezed from grad / undergrad / postdoc labour. in any case it is important to keep in mind that professors can and often do take on employer (ie, small capitalist) roles in relation to other employees of the university, even though the professors themselves are there because the university and other institutions pay them and profit from their labour.

i hope this is a useful start; obviously there is lots else to be said about the economics of the university and knowledge production as a capitalist process. in general when you are trying to think through this my advice would be not to let the presentation of the university as some kind of cerebral place of enlightenment confuse a materialist analysis of the flows of capital. plenty of workers and capitalists deal with commodities that are immaterial in the sense that 'knowledge' is, or are imbued with similar social meaning and value; the university deals with knowledge production but this does not make it any less an employer (ie, a capitalist institution) than any other institution operating in a capitalist context.

#unionisation is another thing rly---university union politics are kind of atrocious generally lmfao #v rare to find solidarity between academics---even grad students---and other employees of the university like support staff or athletes #ofc many grad students consider themselves not employees but temporarily embarassed PMC. so #academia

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iibonniee · 6 months

Text

What's My Name?

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x Reader

Genre: Smut, Non!Idol AU

Warnings: Warnings: non-idol!kihyun, sugar daddy!kihyun, unprotected sex, age kink, daddy kink, oral (male receiving), cock worship, bondage, spanking, semi-masterbation

Rating: R

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Their agreement was something Kihyun had always made sure was followed to the very T. After all, their agreement was signed in ink.

Masterlist | Tags: @beautifulworldandmore @kyunnielove @iamkyunie @doveslittlekpoparchive @dessianna1

Yoo Kihyun was the type of man who did things by the book and followed everything to the letter. He thrived on a well-structured and methodically planned routine. His approach helped him maintain balance in his otherwise chaotic lifestyle, granting him a semblance of serenity amidst the whirlwind of his everyday tasks.

Given his detailed nature, he had the habit of deliberating about every single detail before making decisions. While some might rush in, he took the time to consider every angle, every potential outcome, and every possible risk. This meant he was often slower to act, but his actions were thoughtful and precise.

However, his strict observation of rules and regulations had its disadvantages. While it lent him discipline and structure, it often kept him from exploring uncharted territories, testing innovative solutions to problems, or unleashing his creativity. The fear of stepping outside his comfort zone limited his experiences and sometimes resulted in missed opportunities.

Regardless, Kihyun maintained his orderly existence, content with its safety and predictability. He was the epitome of diligence and consistency—qualities that, for better or worse, came to define his life and career.

And with Kihyun being so by the book and the letter, it also meant that he followed their agreement to the signature. He followed each rule as if it were the law. But she saw the contract as similar to wonder, the lines resembling more suggestive guidelines rather than stipulations carved in stone. Her spirit was wild, seductively erratic, and unpredictable, which was a sweet temptation that she found hard to resist. She often strayed in this spot of their strange relationship, toeing the lines of their carefully designed accord.

Townhouse dinners turned into late-night city escapades. High-profile parties morphed into impromptu starlit picnics. She was the mistress of sly evasion, transgressing the rules in ways that gave her an intoxicated thrill.

Every transgression, however, did not go unnoticed or unpunished.

Kihyun was not oblivious to her playful disregard for their agreement. His commitment to the harshness of the contract was final, starkly contrasting her rebellious behavior. And his response was always swift. He would always ensure that there was no such thing as going behind his back for an enjoyable time out with friends. The friends he strictly disapproved of and made sure were a top rule to not be broken.

Their defined rules were there for a reason, he would tell her. Each rule broken correlated to a conversation—firm yet understanding—trying to drive her back within the lines she’d willingly agreed to. The repercussions for her disobedience were unyielding, yet not harsh unless he wanted them to be; they served as a reminder of their initially agreed-upon terms. The extravagant gifts would be limited, and the exclusive invites would become less frequent, cutting back on the luxuries she held dear. And, of course, if she pushed his buttons just enough, he’d make sure the punishments were much harsher.

Each rule broken meant double the punishment. The punishment only became harsher as one got closer to the top. Kihyun wasn’t sure why she enjoyed pushing his buttons so much. He gave her everything she wanted in favor of loyalty and good dick. So why exactly did she feel the need to push and push?

The house was unnervingly quiet as she returned home late from yet another unapproved escapade. Stepping through the doorway, a sense of unease enveloped her. The house was hushed, a stillness echoing through the lavishly furnished rooms, only disturbed by the ominous ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

As she traveled deeper into their joint space, an isolated figure sat in wait in the dimly lit bedroom. Kihyun was a wraith of discipline, his silhouette imposing against the soft glow of the moonlight filtering in. His usually friendly gaze was replaced with a stern disapproval that filled her with a heady blend of remorse and exhilarating anticipation.

He rose from his chair that sat in the corner, moving with a rigid grace, the tension in the room mounting with each calculated step. He didn’t need to speak for her to know she had broken not one, not two, but three rules in their agreement. Three was the magic number that triggered more severe consequences.

“Three rules,” he said, his voice like ice. His disappointment hung in the air, heavy and tangible, yet there was an underlying concern that she couldn’t miss. The loyalty and affection he held for her were strained but not broken. “Three rules you broke tonight, Y/N? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Though sharp and methodical, his words were filled with a weight that made her reconsider her actions. Nonetheless, she held her ground, ready to face the consequences of her boldness. And though each punishment was harsher than the last, she wouldn’t change the person she was, not for all the riches Kihyun showered her with.

She realized she lived for thrill even as she stood in his disapproving shadow. And genuinely, Kihyun was catching on, learning the untamed woman standing before him wasn’t looking for an authority figure but an equal. Only time would reveal the depth of their understanding and the capacity of their adapted routines.

“I need you to answer me, Y/N.” Kihyun spoke up the moment he realized that she wouldn’t answer him. She studied his face carefully. The glow of the moonlight illuminated his stern gaze, casting stark shadows that hinted at the mounting tension.

She held his gaze unflinchingly, watching as understanding flickered within his eyes before morphing into unmistakable exasperation. Heaving a sigh, Kihyun groaned, pacing the room with growing agitation. The somber atmosphere seemed to pulse with his restrained anger, filling the space between them with sticky anticipation for the punishment she knew was imminent.

Eventually, he moved towards the bed, his figure outlined in the moonlight. Sitting down on it, he kicked off his shoes and glanced up at her. The stern set of his mouth and the cool detachment in his eyes sent a thrill of fear coursing through her. Yet, a part of her relished this nerve-racking anticipation, thrilled by the promise of consequences she was likely to face. She took a deep breath when he spread his legs and silently pointed toward the open space between them.

“Since you think it’s okay to break the rules time and time again because you feel like it, let’s make one thing clear. You are not above the consequences,” Kihyun’s voice was firm, not a hint of negotiation available in his tone. His eyes held a grim determination that made her heart pound. “Get on your knees.”

Her breath caught, but she complied, kneeling between his legs. The severity of the situation rolled off Kihyun, an almost palpable aura of authority enveloping her. She steadied herself, forcing down the electric thrill that sparked through her at the prospect of what was to come.

Their dynamic was evolving, growing more complex and layered with each confrontation. What started as a primary order was morphing into an intense game of power and dominance, with her defiance against his authority fueling their relationship’s rising tension and intensity. These encounters electrified her, luring her further into the depths of this thrilling power play. As she knelt there, waiting, Kihyun’s stern gaze rested upon her, promising a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

A chill shot through her body as his cold hand cupped her cheek. What she thought to be a loving smile quickly turned sour as his hand grabbed a fist full of her hair, jerking her head back so that she was forced to look at him.

“Don’t beg me or even think about using the safe word. Tonight, you pushed me to my limit. I have had it with you running around acting like a whore. If you want to act like a whore, I can treat you like one.” Kihyun growled, his voice filled with an edge of frustration and disappointment she had not expected. His usually warm voice was gone, replaced with a harsh tone that made her heart pound painfully in her chest.

The heated fury of his gaze bore into her, and she was pulled back from her thoughts by his fingers tightening around her hair. She gasped in reply, the surprise and pain mingling with a strange sense of anticipation. Seeing him out of control this way was almost exhilarating, even if it was at her expense.

Despite the fear coursing through her, a part of her felt oddly fascinated by this sudden change in him. However, she understood that he was not playing now. This was the punishment he had warned her about. The silence in the room was palpable, the tension thick and suffocating. She found herself swallowing hard, bracing herself against the impending storm she had unconsciously been courting.

She recognized the dangerous glint in Kihyun’s eyes. The moment of heated confrontation was here, a punishment waiting to unfold. It was clear that the evening was about to take a turn down a path she had not entirely anticipated. This was not their usual game; it was something far more intense and real. Steadying her determination, she held onto the strength within her as she prepared for whatever came next in their volatile battleground.

“Take my cock out and suck on it like a good little whore. Don’t even think about not choking on it, either. I want you crying and worshiping my cock. Got it?”

In response to his stern command, she reached for the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling slightly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she unzipped them, revealing the hardness beneath the fabric that served as a reminder of his dominant authority.

She met his stern gaze directly, signaling her understanding and compliance. Then, slowly, she extends her tongue, running it teasingly along the length of his turgidity. Warm, soft hardness met the cool of her moist tongue, eliciting a responsive shudder from Kihyun.

His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her movements, setting a relentless and satisfyingly sinful rhythm. She could hear the raspy moan reverberate from his chest as she took him deeper into her mouth, his thickness pushing at the back of her throat. His pleasure manifested in the tight grip on her hair and the ragged pants he fought to control.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought her gag reflex, the strain evident as she struggled to accommodate him. But there was an intoxicating thrill in the act of submission, the intense satisfaction of being the source of his pleasure.

Embracing the discomfort, tolerating the burning lungs and the ache in her jaw was part of the game, a punishment she was willingly ready to bear. Her dedication firm, she continued, tears streaking down her cheeks, her eyes locked onto his, promising undying obedience in this unvoiced power play.

She gladly took his length into her mouth once more, feeling its hardened pulse against the flat of her tongue. The movement was slow and enticing, her purpose clear in every glide and press of lips against the hot, rigid flesh.

“That’s right,” He hissed, rewarding her with a rough card through her hair, the action making her look up again, an unvoiced affirmation of her obedience. “Just like that… worship it.”

Each word, each command echoed sharply in the charged silence, stirring a heady cocktail of dread and excitement that coiled tight in her belly. Her rhythm faltered just once, but she quickly found it again, the need to not disappoint outweighing physical discomfort.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked him deeper, the lingering taste of his skin intoxicating, irresistible. Her digits traced the veins on his cock with awe, a testament to his masculinity. Her eyes remained locked on him, an explicit display of submission that reeked of an erotic surrender that suffused the room. Every groan, every twitch of his was duly noted, encouraging her to continue in the act of dutiful worship. It was her testament, her tangible loyalty to his authority wrapped in the veil of the unspoken. The journey to heavy surrender, etched in silence and measured in rhythm, was sinfully unforgettable.

She swept up his length, her lips tight around him as she climbed, a close, slow motion designed to draw out the sweet torment. “Good girl,” Kihyun rasped, his fingers threading through her hair, reinforcing her act of submission. “Worship my cock just like that.”

Her tongue swirled around the swollen head, relishing his salty taste. Her fingers massaged his balls tenderly, adding another layer to the sinful act. With every idle, messily passionate bob of her head, she continued her worship, continuously tracing the tattoo of veins on his shaft, symbolizing his raw strength and power.

His low, throaty moans and how his hands gripped her hair fueled her motivation, seduced by the intoxicating power play. Her eyes lifted to meet Kihyun’s gaze, their raw hunger a testament to her success. The salacious taste and the feel of him in her mouth became her world; nothing else mattered.

She could feel him tense, his breath hitch, signaling his impending release. However, she didn’t relent, determined to see this through, to bring him the ultimate pleasure. Her eyes, glossy with tears, communicated an unspoken promise. She was here, willing and resolved, engaged in the act of intimate worship, refusing to back down from this gloriously revealing power play.

And so, she carried on, her hand firmly around his base, her tongue gliding over the throbbing veins and swollen head with devout veneration. His hissed curses and praises echoed in her ears, mingling with his ragged breaths in a wanton symphony of power and surrender. Her mouth, moist and warm, served as a temple of sinful pleasure dedicated to his satisfaction.

His hips jerked abruptly, his grip on her hair tightened to the edge of pain, and he moaned out a guttural warning. Then, his release’s first shot filled her warm and salty mouth. She swallowed instinctively, not daring to break from her worship.

The next few moments were a blur, his body locked in ecstasy and she, the devotional priestess, accepting his offering. Each pulse of his release marked a victory in their battle for dominance, a testament to her submission.

He gasped her name as the last spurts of his climax hummed in the back of her throat, his figure jerking in the aftershocks of pleasure. Even then, she didn’t break away, carefully cleaning him with her tongue, not letting a single drop of him go to waste.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes met his, mirroring the raw intensity that had fueled their power play. Kihyun, with his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light and his chest heaving, looked every bit the dominant figure he was.

As the tension hovered like an aftertaste in the aftermath of their carnal rendezvous, she savored the victorious satisfaction of a game well played, a testament to the authority she had deliciously delivered.

“Don’t think we’re done just yet.” Kihyun finally spoke as the moonlight showed just how dark his eyes were. “Stand up and strip in front of me.”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to process his words carefully. Her breath hitched in her throat, her cheeks flushing with a powerful mix of embarrassment and anticipation. Always, it had been him who undressed her, but not tonight. Tonight, he was making her bear herself in front of him, leveraging the power dynamics of their encounter.

Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, her legs shaking slightly from the intensity of their previous play. Her hands moved up to the buttons of her shirt, each one coming undone with a tremble of apprehension. Despite the heat still coursing through her, she felt a chill as the cool air hit her skin, immediately making her nipples harden.

Kihyun, always the keen observer, watched her intently. His darkened eyes objectified her unshielded vulnerability as a predator about to pounce his prey, a wolf relishing a moonlit hunt. Feeling his gaze tracking her, she unzipped her skirt next, the piece of fabric sliding down her legs to pool around her ankles. She was a sight to behold in her plain white lingerie, the soft glow of the moonlight casting shadows on her nude body.

Meanwhile, Kihyun had not remained idle. His hand had gripped his once again hardening length, the distinct movement of his arm signaling his self-pleasure as he started masturbating. He groaned, his eyes never leaving her, the sight before him acting as a sensual trigger.

This exhilarating combination of thrill, embarrassment, and vulnerability formed a novel chapter in their explicit dance of dominance and submission, one that she was learning to navigate with each passing second. The silence echoed with an unspoken dialogue of unspoken understanding, transforming their room into an arena of charged intensity. Each pull of Kihyun’s hand, each discarded layer of her clothing, was a pledge, a promise of the pleasures awaiting them in the impending thickness of the night.

“I know you’re trying to figure out what I’m going to do next so you can play off on it,” Kihyun grunted, his eyes traveling over every inch of her body. “Tonight isn’t about you. You’ll be lucky if I even let you cum once.”

Finally standing, Kihyun towed over her. His eyes narrowed at her. Her breath was caught in her throat as she watched him approach, anticipation prickling on her skin. Suddenly, in one swift movement, he gripped her arm, pulling her towards the bed with a force that left her breathless. She landed on the soft mattress, her heart pounding against her rib cage.

She barely had time to adjust before he was unlocking a drawer by the bed and retrieving something shrouded in darkness. A second later, she recognized them as a pair of handcuffs, glinting menacingly in the dim light. Her breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation washing over her.

He leaned over her, his hands pinning her down, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “Remember, tonight, it’s all about me,” he said, his voice a delicious growl that made her squirm. He held her wrists above her head, locking one handcuff after the other swiftly, leaving her restrained and exposed before him. “Your body is mine to use. Mine to punish. Don’t forget that.”

Kihyun sat back, taking a moment to appreciate the sight. His gaze traced the curve of her body, bound and ready for his pleasure. His hand, slick from his efforts, resumed its motion, stroking himself leisurely as he continued to drink in the sight before him.

“Stay put,” he commanded, his voice rumbling with raw desire, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Fear and arousal danced in her stomach, a tempting mix of emotions that heightened her anticipation. She was there, vulnerable and at his mercy, entrapped in one of the most exhilarating games of dominance and submission she’d ever played. Tonight, she realized, would indeed be a night to remember.

Kihyun, engrossed in his self-indulgence, continued his passive strokes. His dark eyes never left her as he pleasured himself, his intensity creating an aura of raw dominance that was as captivating as it was daunting. His touch on himself was familiar and practiced, eliciting throaty groans that filled the room.

Her gaze was drawn to his hand, which played a close rhythm on his hardened length. His response to the entrancing sight before him was a testament to her effect on him; every twitch and gasp he made only fueled her anticipation and her own growing need.

Kihyun’s dark gaze seared into her, making her squirm under his inspection. He was shameless, knowing just how powerful the sight of him touching himself was. His erect length, slick with his arousal, glistened under the soft light, making her mouth water with the need to taste him again.

After a time that was simultaneously too long and not nearly long enough, Kihyun’s strokes started to slow, his breathing growing ragged. He briefly closed his eyes, savoring the thrills of self-pleasure before opening them again. His gaze was predatory, filled with an insatiable lust that made her shiver in apprehension and arousal.

Purposefully, he propped himself above her, smirking down at her restrained figure. His hand left his length, reaching for the handcuffs to unlock them. However, just as she thought he would finally give in and take her and release her from the handcuffs, he instead guided his pulsing dick against her thigh, reminding her of her undeniable desire for him.

With a devilish grin, he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient. The night is far from over.” His husky voice promised an avalanche of pleasure that left her throbbing with anticipation for what was to come. She was truly at his mercy tonight, and there was no place she’d rather be. “I want you to beg to touch me, and I won’t even give in. Just like you refuse to listen to the rules I set in place for us. Unfair, isn’t it?”

A devilish chuckle vibrated through her as he unlocked her handcuffs. She sighed in relief, feeling the blood flowing back to her hands, but the respite was short-lived. Suddenly, Kihyun placed his hands on her waist, effortlessly flipping her onto her front.

He adjusted her, positioning her onto hands and knees until she was just as he preferred — her backside on full display for him. Underneath him, his dominance, she felt a twinge of humiliation coupled with a raw, throbbing anticipation. She felt the edge of the bed dip slightly as he moved behind her, allowing her a few precious seconds to regain her composure.

Then, the coldness of the cuffs again, a stark contrast to the heat of her skin, announced their return, this time locking her in place on the bedposts. She was re-stripped of her freedom almost as fast as she’d been granted, a play on her sanity that sent another gush of arousal through her body.

His labored breathing filled the room as she felt him settle behind her, the mattress dipping under his weight. Her body arched instinctively, seeking him out, but he held back. She felt him there, his cock teasing her entrance, yet he made no further move. It was pure torment. Every brushing contact sent bolts of desire shooting up her spine, leaving her panting and desperate.

“Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she finally surrendered to his relentless game, begging him for release. But his reply was a deep, throaty laugh that held a promise: the night was, indeed, far from over. His reply echoed in the room, an intoxicating mix of amusement and desire she could almost taste.

“Begging already?” he teased, running his fingers delicately along her entrance. The feeling sent electrifying waves of pleasure through her, her breath hitching at the contact. “You never fail to amuse me.”

He leaned over her, his body heat radiating onto her skin. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “The rules are simple. I touch, and you feel. You cum when I say so. Not a second before, understand?”

She could only nod, her mouth dry, her body tingling in anticipation. His finger trailed further, stirring a whirlpool of desire that made her want to break the rules he just set. But she refrained, knowing it would only lead to more teasing, more torment. She could feel him grinning against her shoulder, his pleasure palpable in the room.

Then, just when she thought she couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, she felt him push inside her, slow and relentless. All the air left her lungs as she was filled, the sensation overwhelming her senses. She let out a scream that was swallowed by the emptiness of the room, her body finally succumbing to his dominance.

Kihyun grunted with satisfaction as he buried himself in her, a dark chuckle escaping as he felt the quiver of her body beneath his. He relished her shuddering gasps as he began to move, the initial slow pace quickly escalating into a maddening rhythm that set their bodies on fire. “Look at you, being so obedient,” he taunted. Each word was punctuated by a merciless thrust, the sounds of their bodies colliding, echoing in the space surrounding them. “It’s surprising how obedient you are when you have my cock deep inside you, huh? I find it amusing.”

His unsparing last thrust drew a whimper from her lips, the sensations rippling inside her too intense to bear. “Please,” she gasped. She could barely put the feelings into words; it was overpowering, raw, and intoxicating all at once.

Much to the surprise of her stinging senses, Kihyun’s hand landed a hearty smack on her backside. A loud gasp ripped from her throat, the sudden rush of pain igniting another wave of pleasure. His handprint burned on her skin, underscoring the game of dominance playing out between them.

“That’s right,” he praised, tone smooth as velvet, “You’re doing so well.” The sound of another slap resonating from their entangled bodies only added to the symphony of their pleasure - a raw reminder of his control over her. “Taking Daddy’s cock like a good fucking slut.”

He drove into her relentlessly, his grip on her hips bruising yet somehow comforting in its firmness. The sting of his hand on her ass had her gasping, chasing the peculiar blend of pain and pleasure that radiated from the point of contact. His voice echoed in the room, lacing her mind with a hearty dose of satisfaction.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled in her ear, his voice husky. The words vibrated through her, his praises a turn-on that enhanced the sensations coursing through her. His next thrust was particularly fierce; a resounding smack filled the air as his hand collided with her ass again. She yelped; the unexpected collision sent electrifying jolts of pleasure straight to her center.

“You love it when I spank you, don’t you?” he taunted, another hard slap punctuating his gravelly tone. The sharp sensation was swiftly followed by the gentleness of his hand, fingers tracing the tender area, soothing the ignited skin.

He resumed his pace, a relentless rhythm that promised to tip her over the edge. His name spilled from her lips, a prayer amid moans that echoed around them, bouncing off the stark walls and diving into the abyss of pleasure they were entangled in.

Her anticipation soared as his thrusts became more forceful and urgent, a testament to his nearing climax. As her body trembled on the precipice, he leaned over to whisper in her ear, his voice saturated with desire, “Beg for me, sweetheart. Show me just how much you need to cum.” The sinful request echoed in her head, the edge she was balancing on becoming more precarious. “And maybe Daddy will be kind enough to let you cum.”

Desperation clawed at her as she writhed beneath him, each thrust driving her closer to the precipice. A broken, needy sound slipped past her lips, “Please, Kihyun.”

He merely chuckled at her plea, his fingers tracing a burning path down her quivering stomach. His face was a study of lust and control, pupils dilated, and lips curved ever so slightly. “That wasn’t begging, sweetheart,” he chided, the tips of his fingers dancing tantalizingly near her overstimulated clit. “If you want to cum, beg for it correctly.”

Overwhelmed by the whir of sensations, every nerve in her body screamed at his restrained touch. She felt her walls tighten around him purposefully, trying to draw him deeper. Still, he resisted, merely grinning at her feeble attempts to control the situation.

With a whimper, she tried to plea once more, but the name came out wrong. “Kihyun, please,” she murmured, her voice shaky in the dim room. The moment the words tumbled from her lips, she could see it was not what he wanted to hear. He arched an eyebrow at her, a silent prompt for the correction he awaited.

Swallowing hard, she corrected herself, her cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “Please, Daddy,” she corrected hastily, her voice desperate in the quiet room. The shift in her address was a tangible submission, an acceptance of the sinful game they were entangled in. Her begging voice, the plea laced with an innocent rawness, filled the room, emphasizing the control he had over her. “Let me cum, please.”

His next thrust, directed with surgical precision, rubs against her sweet spot that sends pleasure-like sparks through her. Her desperate moan filled the room, her body bowing as if struck by an electric shock. His hand tangled into her hair, pulling back her head as he hushed her gently, “Begging now, are we?”

She nodded, cried out, lost in the intoxicating blend of pleasure and anticipation. She felt his grin against the pulse point on her neck, a sinful promise of a climax that was just out of her reach. “Beg me properly,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down her spine. His firm hands propped her hips for a deeper angle, stoking the flames of her desire.

Give and take, push and pull. Kihyun was the master of their sordid game, drawing puckish pleasure from her desperate pleas. Defeated, she surrendered to her erupting desire. “Please, Daddy,” She whined, her voice desperate and raw, “I need to cum.”

Before the echoes of her words had faded away, he buried himself deeper into her, his pace meeting her every wish. “Daddy’s giving you what you asked for,” he growled, his words broken by gasps of pleasure, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

And like a dam breaking, her world exploded in colors as he kept true to his promise. His ruthless thrusts drove her higher and higher until she spiraled in an endless roll of pleasure. It was sinful and wild, a testament to their passion burning raw and relentless.

“Sweetheart, I’m…” His voice was gravelly, strained with his nearing climax. His grip on her hips tightened, his body tensed, and he pushed deep inside her in one final, powerful thrust. Lunging deep, he held himself in place, releasing a guttural groan that reverberated throughout the room.

His warmth filled her, his release marking her from within, causing her to gasp at the unexpected but welcomed intensity. His climax came like a tidal wave, crashing over them with a force that was both tantalizingly torturous and delightfully sinful. Milky evidence of his fulfillment lingered within her, satisfying proof of his passionate surrender.

After catching his breath, he uncuffed her, their bodies still intertwined. Despite the rawness of their encounter, his weight over her provided a reassuring warmth. Their breathing, while sporadic, began to synchronize - a fitting epilogue to the frantic rhythm they had shared just moments before. Their intermingled sweat painted a canvas of carnal desires and unrestrained satisfaction. The tangible presence of their shared climax remained engraved on their bodies, a trophy of their primal dance. In the quiet, he craned his neck and, with a tantalizingly slow pace, brushed his lips against her pulse point, making her shiver. His voice, now husky from their shared exertions, sent a new wave of warmth rushing down her spine.

“Look at you, so content,” He murmured, tracing her curves with a possessive touch that echoed their sinful indulgence. His eyes glinted wickedly in the dim room. “Such a well-behaved girl when you know Daddy has control, aren’t you?”

He let out a soft chuckle, his breath fanning against her, causing her eyes to flutter open. Beneath his gaze, she felt cherished, adored, laid bare by his sinful words. It was a promise, whispered in the silence of their shared satisfaction - a promise of more such sinful nights, testing their boundaries and losing themselves at new heights of ecstasy. And amidst the lingering haze of lust, she eagerly looked forward to nights that awaited them.

His voice deepened as he leaned in, his words a husky whisper against the shell of her ear. “I promise you, sweetheart, if you dare to break the rules again, the punishments will be much more severe.” A visceral thrill ran through her at his promise, a shudder of anticipation rippling through her body.

His hand gently traced her lower abdomen; his fingers danced lightly over her skin as his eyes held a sinful glimmer. “Next time, I might just breed you,” he murmured, the implications of his words causing heat to rush to her cheeks. “Imagine that, you running around with my baby inside you. Won’t that be a sight?”

His grin was wicked, a vulture biding his time. “Your friends they will be curious, no doubt, about who got you pregnant. They’ll ask who the father is, and you?” He paused, his thumb rubbing small circles on her warm skin, “You’ll know it was the older man that had you crying out his name until the dead of night.”

His words trailed off into a low, satisfied hum, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on her flushed skin. The implications of his sinful promise hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing prospect she was not sure she was ready for. He had marked her tonight in the most intimate of ways, and as she looked at him, a silent understanding passed between them.

“You are mine.”

#kvanity #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #monsta x smut #kihyun imagines #kihyun x reader #kihyun smut #monsta x kinktober #kinktober

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dangermousie · 6 months

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Girl, you might not realize it, but you got it bad if a man's fully clothed upper back evokes that look on your face...

I love how he - I don't want to say accepts her issues - because he wants to fix them - but accepts she has them and acts within those confines, if it makes sense. Like he makes her coffee and then takes the first sip to show it's not poisoned.

His modesty cracks me up.

The dinner thing is more of the same accepting her issues and trying to nudge at them but not in a way that makes her uncomfortable - he's made her dinner and tries to tempt her and show it's safe etc but ultimately (and I loved it because it's not something that can be fixed quickly, a tiny sip of coffee was already a big deal), she still doesn't touch it one bit and after showing her it's safe and going mmm delish to tempt her to try he basically drops it.

I also love that while he's clearly head over heels, he keeps making jokes and defusing the situation so she can comfortably go with her assumption he's odd and also it's a business arrangement.

Bwahahaha, he's barely able to keep a straight face when he says he wants her for stock tips but what really gets me is that even though he's not even covering his feelings much, any sense of desirability has been beaten out of her - it genuinely isn't even in realm of possibility for her that a man, let alone a catch of one, would just genuinely want her for her.

His reaction to her term of their contract convinces me he's been reborn too, since this is the time on her wrist, ticking away, and it must be on his too.

You know he prepped like crazy. But also OMG she will finally have a safe space that is just hers!

This is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her!

And I love that her room is cute and sweet and not that soulless jail cell she has at home. No idea if it's her taste or not, but what she is moved by is not the aesthetics per se, but the fact that someone clearly tried to please her, to compensate for what she said was her room at home. And honestly, it's heartbreaking that this is the first time - because at the orphanage they obviously couldn't and her adopted family obviously wouldn't, and this is the first time and she's an adult!!!!

He may say it's his secretary who picked out the clothes but we all know he's a lying liar who lies right here. Look at his face!

Woman, if he could, he'd glue himself to you literally, of course it's OK!

Is this story utter wish fulfillment? Of course. But the world is a cold and brutal place and a little wish fulfillment on my screen goes a long and glorious way in helping.

#kdrama #perfect marriage revenge #sung hoon #jung yoo min

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twopoppies · 2 years

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I usually don't comment on stuff like this, because I don't make a habit of pissing on people's parades, but some of the recent things people are using as "proof" (of bbg ending, of Larry communicating with us, etc) are really wild stretches.

And, I usually wouldn't let it bother me; I understand that people (especially newer larries) are just having fun. But, as someone who's been here for a long time and who was part of the fandom when "proof" really meant concrete, vetted, and consistent evidence, I think people are unaware of how creating, spreading, and encouraging these unsubstantiated stretches and theories only support the extremely damaging stereotype that larries are unhinged and that we can (and will) make a connection out of anything, if it suits our narrative. (Which is, literally, what hets and shippers do, so yeah, forgive me if I don't want to be lumped in with that crowd.)

When we talk about Larry signaling (through clothing, warnings, selfies, the bears, etc), I think it's really, really important to remember the context in which those things happened.

They were both banging on the glass closet and seemingly seeding a potential coming out. They were at the height of their 'enemies' narrative and banned from being seen interacting, even while they were living out of each other's pockets. They were restricted by extremely abusive public identities (homophobe and serial womanizer) and contract clauses. They were making music and money for oppressive management and labels, none of which was directly contributing to or even hinting at potential personal career growth outside One Direction. They were signaling not only because it's all they had in terms of connecting with their community, but as an act of extreme rebellion and as a means of winning over even an inch of personal freedom and self-expression. (Remember, Niall wasn't even allowed to keep his natural hair color.)

And, while yes, Harry and Louis are still heavily closeted and being made to participate in (especially in Louis' case) extremely vile and abusive stunts, the context, in terms of their need to be seen (whether it be as their own people, queer people, or as a couple), has actually changed. In terms of self-expression, they're both making music that resonates with their creative identities, that they have some level of control over, and that contribute to them, personally, as individual artists. This means they actually have a personal stake in whether or not their projects do well because its a direct indicator of whether they get to continue making music that they love. Taking that into consideration, its unlikely that they want to overshadow the soul of those projects by slipping in all these little clues about their relationship into their promo. They’ve also (thanks mostly to the fans) found other ways of connecting to the queer community (which is an entirely different objective from wanting people to know about their relationship, specifically.)

To be really honest, I think they’ve actually made a collective decision to work harder to protect the privacy of their relationship, even behind the scenes, for many reasons. (Harris Reed’s recent interview, where he mentioned not really knowing Harry all that well, but alluded to leaving space for his queerness is what swayed me the most.) Being older, and having a lot more at stake (personally and professionally), makes me think they’re now (maybe in the last four or so years) very, very selective about who they share this part of their life with, one, because they each have a lot more to lose now if they’re outed, but also because their relationship is their top priority, and as Harry has said (and no doubt learned), a relationship has never benefitted from being made public (and we have to remember that even “within the confines of the industry” is still very, very “public”).

But, I digress. My point is, they've been together for twelve years, they've written hundreds upon hundreds of love songs to each other, they have their love story tattooed all over their skin. I get if you, individually, need to read into every little clue to prove to yourself they're still together, but don’t confuse that with them needing us to know it.

Again, I'm not saying this to piss on anyone's parade. I love a Larry proof to death and god knows I believe in the real ones with my whole chest (Still the One still gives me chills, Princess Park is fucking perfection, ‘waiting to wrap your legs around me' and ‘tired eyes are the death of me’ are tattooed on my heart). What I'm saying is people need to take context into consideration to keep from devaluing and trivializing actual, solid, vetted Larry proof and signaling because the only people and reputations these stretches and theories are hurting are Larries’.

Anon, if I wasn’t already married, I would marry you. THANK YOU.

#fandom dynamics #for newbies #I was going to add some thoughts #but really you made such good points #I don’t even want to dilute it

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shitty-fallout-art · 1 month

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only a single portrait because you don't need to see more right now :)

-Currently residing within the bowels of the Slop Shop hideout, Cait is an unwilling captive acting as Jared's current prophet.

-Not much could initially be said about Cait, given that she had nobody with which to share her story with. Once she was sold to the Combat Arena, she figured she would spend the rest of her life within its walls without a hope of ever being freed from them; and technically, she was correct.

-For years her routine had been a murky cycle of violence, the days blending together so that she lived perpetually within the chaotic fights of the arena. Between the chems that both gave her spirit and dulled her mind, and Tommy not being one to keep her updated with matters that, frankly, didn't interest her, the world seemed to pas by her with little trouble, until its troubles grew too great for her to be ignorant of.

-The numbers always fluctuated, raiders coming and going at all intervals depending on circumstance alone. Raider nests often got liberated or stolen, their proximity to Diamond City was often a liability risk, and prime targets in the southern regions were often too good to pass up. No matter what the combat arena promised in terms of excitement or caps, the unpredictable world of the commonwealth outside meant that business could go from busy to slow, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

-It wasn't until the numbers drastically went up that she figured something must have been driving everyone up north.

-At first it was a great boom for business, and despite the increase in her performances, she was also allotted time for herself to make room for other, fresher acts. Though unable to leave and very restricted in what she was allowed to do, Cait was able to make the most of her time with chem usage and general distractions, and second-hand she learned of pretty strange things happening outside the Combat Arena.

-The arrival of the Brotherhood got quite a laugh out of a lot of people, as did the rise of the minutemen, though such opinions were tinged with embitterment and anger towards their rapid success and rock-hard defenses. Nothing had squashed their spirits yet, but it was obvious that most raiders saw both groups as a challenge, and held mixed feelings of excitement and worry at a confrontation. Any further politics surrounding them had slipped her mind. Her addiction had grown heavier, and her actions while under usage became extreme and frightening.

-For months the Combat Arena flourished, then came a steady decline in profits, yet the number of patrons never went down. People were still showing up, and weirdly enough, staying there for long periods of time, though it appeared as though there just wasn't enough to indulge in freely. Chems were still easy to get hold of, but food started to become a bit harder to come by, and it wasn't for lack of effort on the raiders part. Cait's position kept her well fed, but fights often broke out amongst the freeloaders.

-Tommy was gradually loosing control of his business. It was hard to throw out the people who couldn't pay, but as they grew in number they overwhelmed him and eventually made themselves at home. Everything was running dry but they had no means with which to replace it. The Brotherhood was putting pressure on nearby areas and if they caught wind of the place then the Combat Arena was doomed.

-He grew desperate, and though he had promised to take Cait with him, he tried to sell her contract in the end for a little extra cash.

-The man who bought it, a Raider named Rust, was a strange one. He often talked about the failings of Ortega and bought large quantities of chems whenever he could, though rarely seemed to take them himself. When the Brotherhood came knocking down their down, he took Cait and fled towards the northeast. Cait hated him, but he supplied her with chems and kept her ignorant of the fallout outside, so she didn't complain much.

-She spent most of her days traveling and most of her nights swimming underneath intoxication, and it was one of these nights that the pair had met Jared.

-At a raider's den in Green Trailer Estates, Cait scourged for any chems they had available, becoming wild and uncontrollable with its influence. This had often brought her negative attention, but for Jared it was a sign of something great.

-She thought his questions were weird, most didn't make sense, but he seemed to like the nonsensical answer she gave, and when he promised her more chems for more answers she simply couldn't refuse.

-She didn't find out until after Rust and Jared formed a partnership that she had dug herself into her own grave.

-Her chem usage had increased substantially, but even when she tried to take a break they kept giving them to her. In moments of coherency she started to realize that the answers she was expected to give Jared were wholly unbelievable and impossible for her to know, but he insisted that she had some kind of ability to answer them.

-Cait grew confused and worried, but also weaker and sicker as time went on. Jared acted accordingly, giving her time off the chems and trying to keep her as healthy as possible, but it was during these sick episodes that she came to learn just how crazy he really was and how shitty she felt all the time.

-In was simply out of question for her to quit, they wouldn't allow her, and the feelings she so once enjoyed as a means of escape became painful and impossible to tolerate.

-Over the course of many years she hung on the brink of death, only to be kept alive for the sole purpose of acting as a seer. Even when malnourishment ruined all of them, even when her urine grew black and painful, even when her heart could not beat on its own and she could not even lift her own head; Jared simply refused to part with his ticket to greatness.

-But he still realized the toll this was taking on her, and that was when the experiential abductions began. From her bed she watched many chem users come and go, unable to provide the proof Jared sought and often dying from the effects of whatever cocktail Jared's boy's had concocted.

-It's a hard and painful life that she's grown sick of, having abandoned all hope of ever getting better, though she asks for a swift, painful death instead of slowly rotting away. It seems inevitable that she will eventually meet her end, no matter how hard Doctor Carrington tries to keep her alive, but those chems they keep administering are starting to have strange effects on her body, and she isn't sure what to make of that.

#fallout #fallout 4 #cait #horrorout au #shittys fallout aus #fallout au character profile #shittys art

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kassandras-one-braincell · 23 days

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Oathsworn brainrot: Soma

This doesn't even scratch the surface, and there's 2000 odd words under the cut. This entire AU was built around Soma. I am unwell. As a big supporter of women's wrongs, the fact that in the game's canon, she allegedly managed to piss off the entirety of Mercia within a couple of years of being in England appeals to me greatly. That's a nefarious feat. Her hands are bloody.

The whole Oathsworn premise post is linked here.

The King isn’t a tactful man, and managed to piss off a very powerful nation overseas just a year after his coronation. They’re cunning merchants, and equally as cunning on the battlefield. The Danes are governed by a war council, led by Guthrum Jarl, with formidable politicians and warriors seated beside him.

Guthrum does not like the acting King. But neither side would profit from an all-out war. Your kingdom has money and connections from trade that the Danes (creatively named) didn’t want to compromise. And in terms of prowess in battle, your army didn’t stand a chance. Tensions were high, with neither side willing to escalate things past sanctions, a few shot messengers, minor sieges of neutral territory, and a lot of threats.

Three years ago, the King – bored of current circumstances – acted against the advice of the court and ordered a disproportionately sized infantry unit to attack a very small encampment flying a Dane banner on neutral ground, breaching the peace. He smiled while the council were left to develop one hell of a contingency plan. Thirty men sent to kill three or four Danes, according to the scout.

One soldier returned, his right leg dragging limply behind him, utterly harrowed. He trembled, wide-eyed and halfway retching as he recounted how the one Dane who survived the ambush sprinted into the swamp with thirty men on her tail. With a single axe, murky water and the darkness of the night, she cut down the infantry. She sliced the sole survivor’s heel and forced him to watch her butchery of the twenty-ninth soldier. Then she escorted him back to her camp. Cleaned and dressed his wound, purely so he’d live to tell the tale.

The court froze with dread as he gave a description of the woman. Specifically at the scar, ragged and deep, cutting through her face from her ear to her nose. That woman was Soma: one of Guthrum’s most trusted councillors, and something of a nightmare to your kingdom’s soldiers.

Your court anticipated full retaliation. However, they were met with diplomacy. Despite the breach of unspoken contract, Guthrum had no intention of returning the gesture, still believing that the price of a war wouldn’t be worth its rewards. He arranged to visit the kingdom with his war council after sending a draft of a new peace treaty, full of mutually beneficial trade outlines, but pending one unfinalised condition.

Soma, looking like Soma does, caught your immediate attention upon the Danes’ arrival. She immediately recognised you as the crown princess without introduction, despite the King’s children also being present. She knew something, and that was unsettling, but she was courteous nonetheless. Her smile was warm, her eyes betraying her calculation. You weren’t completely in the dark yourself, though – the scar was unmistakable. This woman could likely take on all the Kingsguard in the room without the help of her colleagues. Whatever their game was, she was an integral player.

Guthrum said he was content to forgive the King for his misdeeds, and while the phrasing angered his Majesty, the animosity was silenced by the treaty’s very generous terms. The Danes saw profit in an alliance, but needed a reason to believe the King would honour it. After this, Guthrum nodded to you and bowed politely; word of your stride towards free public education had reached their shores, and he found it an admirable goal indeed. No wonder your kingdom spoke fondly of their heir, he remarked.

His caveat to the treaty was simple. Your court, by now, was familiar with the capabilities of Soma. Guthrum had heard of the Oathsworn tradition. Soma was prepared to abandon her port and her seat at his council in favour of swearing the Oath. This way, if the King was to lash out again, she would be within striking distance to take the life of the kingdom’s crown jewel – and your death wouldn’t be painless. The oath would be sworn with him and a noble of your choice present as witnesses, and it would be sworn.

Very few people in the court were aware of the King’s intention to eventually dethrone you, and he was in no position to refuse the treaty. The Danes did not come without reinforcements. He agreed to the terms, signed the papers, and you asked your queen mother to bear witness. She was sickened by the thought of the Oath being sworn under these circumstances, suspecting her husband’s intentions regarding his succession, knowing your life was doubly at risk here. But she agreed, because it wasn't up for negotiation.

That same evening, yourself, Soma, a priest and the two agreed-upon witnesses took to the chapel. She recited the sacred vow, never breaking your gaze. Her tone was steeled, but there was no mistaking her contentment to abandon the tenet, should it be asked of her.

The first attempt on your life occurred a mere month after the Oath ceremony. The assassin concealed the family crest of one of your kingdom’s nobles on a cufflink. He struck when you were checking in with the headmaster of a school you recently built, dealt with swiftly by Soma, who shadowed your public appearances. She was professional – positioning herself between you and the attacker in a suit of armour she had yet to adjust to, incapacitating him. The visit was cut short as she wrapped you in her cloak to mask your identity, leaving the other guards to formally arrest the assassin.

She had an authoritative, no-bullshit attitude about her as she used her newfound influence over the royal guard – a perk of the position given the politics – to organise an inquiry, presenting to the King the engraved cufflink found on the assassin. No doubt, she took pleasure in getting information out of him, but how she handled the inquiry made it clear that your life was paramount, and you took peculiar solace in this. The conspiring noblewoman who sent him was soon tried and punished accordingly. Soma insisted upon standing in as her executioner.

You cursed yourself as your defensive, wary demeanour around her cracked over time. There were other attempts on your life, and she took her role as your Oathsworn seriously, seemingly more so with every new perpetrator. Beyond duty, though, she showed you kindness. And as you learned about one another in your close proximity, you grew fond of each other. A profound respect was building, and it was mutual.

At one point, you both had problematic revelations. You had never felt safer around the woman tasked with taking your life, should the causal circumstance arise. And Soma realised she had no desire to act on that kill order. You made a promise to her: when you were queen, you would grant her deeds to the kingdom’s port, because she had once confessed to you how she mourned that part of her old life, and the gods knew she could bloody run it. She pondered the promise being empty, but dismissed the thought. You listened to her in a moment of vulnerability. This changed things.

A dalliance was inevitable, but this was neither fleeting nor inconsequential. Your affection for one another, your devotion in all its intensity, was a secret well-kept from all eyes, ears and quills.

And it was intense. Fast. Hasty, even. The threat of a sudden awful change loomed over you both, leaving no time for courtship. Butterflies were reserved for the newfound gesture in Soma’s hand on your back as she escorted you through crowds. Her solitary company was filled with dizzying kisses, passionate rendezvous under the moonlight and unbridled laughter.

At first, your mutual desire for physical intimacy was overwhelmed by a sudden anxiety in your closeness. There was the persistent fear that the kill order had been given, and that Soma was waiting for you to be at your most vulnerable before she ended your life. It choked you, frustrated you, but you were honest with her. The first time it happened, Soma assured you that she would sooner cut off her hand than lay a harmful finger on you. She thanked you for your candour, bidding you goodnight with a comforting smile and a chaste kiss to your knuckles. She would not lay with you until you felt safe enough to trust her with your body, and she wanted you to realise this safety on your own. With time, that safety came about. You made love, and confessed that love shortly after.

Your relationship introduced a new variable to the political equation. Until the present, you tried your best not to question any loyalties. Foolish as it were, you were content in the illusion of security.

With his reign coming to an end, though, the King is under pressure to secure the line of succession for himself and his children before he’ll be forced to abdicate. Never having had a penchant for patience, this urgency is beginning to seep into his actions in court. None of the assassination attempts were successful. His co-conspirators are dwindling in their numbers; those who haven’t been convicted of treason are succumbing to fear.

Truthfully, he never anticipated Soma would honour her vow, nevermind with such ferocity. He had hoped one of his carefully organised, bloody fates would befall upon you, and her subsequent execution would bury the evidence of his crime. But she complicated things terribly, and in his frustration, he begins to suggest processions that would put the treaty at risk. Gambling merchandise due to be exported form your kingdom to Guthrum. Proposing a mandatory armistice for all Danes in the kingdom. Inquisitions, the likes. All fortunately talked down by the court, but not without rapidly building concern.

You and Soma begin to see through the cracks. The King isn’t intelligent, but he also isn’t naive enough to accidentally compromise the kingdom’s safety. As your step-siblings begin to look at you through a different gaze, you're forced to navigate court with a pit in your stomach. Conversations with Soma following the string of conspiracies only reinforced the idea that foul play is at work.

Soma caught word some weeks ago that Guthrum’s war council had undergone a few changes of seats, and not all of the new councillors share his ambitions. They seek conquest. She suspects they’re in contact with your King, most likely manipulating him into pushing for political moves that would spiral the kingdom into a war you would certainly lose.

Her fears reside in whether Guthrum could have a change of heart, or if he would be willing to isolate you from the actions of the King with your coronation inbound. There is every possibility that the King could overrule the democracy of the court regarding one of his rash decisions, and the kill order would be given. There would be war, and if she refused to take your life, she’d be an enemy of her people – her family – as well as your own.

Yet when she confides in you, distressed, it’s abundantly clear that Soma doesn’t see a dilemma in all of this. She paces about your quarters and thinks aloud, knowing you’ll always lend your ear and comfort to her. If all negotiations failed, she would rather live as a pariah than betray you. The idea of taking your life is unfathomable.

Amidst a sea of uncertainties, you’re unable to avoid doubt. Those panicky feelings from the early days of your relationship are resurfacing, as much as you want them to stop. Your heart yearns to trust Soma. You hear the truth in her words, the humanity in her voice, but you can’t shake the fear that it’s an elaborate act. Your apprehension hurts her. It wounds you both.

A bitter few days pass by. You’re sick with worry, unable to sleep. Questions of if she’d do it bleed into how she’d do it. Your mind lingers on poison, to the extent where you employ somebody to taste your food and before you so much as touch the plate.

Soma knocks on your bedchamber door one night with a goblet in hand. She lets out a pained breath when you flinch away from it. It’s a sleeping aid, she tells you gently. It’s agonising to watch your health deteriorate under paranoia. You are her heart, after all. As difficult as it is to acknowledge your wavering trust in her, her love for you has not lessened.

You’re exhausted. And scared – not just for your life, but for the future of your kingdom. Apologies flood from your lips as you crumble before her. Soma can’t stop herself from holding you. Tears of her own escape as you sob at the sensation of her embrace, trembling in her arms as your sleep-deprived, anxiety-riddled mind tries desperately to refute that immediate feeling of safety.

It dawns that neither of you have the luxury of certainty in anything but each other.

Tenderly, after a small eternity in each other's arms, Soma asks if she can renew her vow, right here. She wants you to hear her Oath anew, her tenet solemn, devoted, and devoid of political motivation. Fuck the chapel, the priest, the gods. Witness be damned. The only blessing that matters is yours.

You give it to her.

#not a word of this was written at a reasonable hour so excuse my linguistics i beg #god i fucking love soma #soma jarlskona #soma x reader #❀ sugar and spice ❀#oathsworn au

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azlrse · 2 years

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➳ worth taking a shot! (a floyd leech x GN!reader oneshot)

summary: if a deal is made, you have to meet it’s terms, even if everyone’s eyes landed between the two of you.

cw: poor grammar, i’m bad at explaining basketball here ;_;, extreme fluff & established relationship.

a/n: damn it’s my first day of school and I just wanna drop out /j

[reupload due to post not showing up in tags smhh]

Inside of the campus, it is said that a student from the Ramshackle Dorm was dating a prominent figure from the dorms of Octavinelle. The news caused a massive brainstorm on why Floyd fall for a student with no magical abilities. Plus, why a student such as himself deserved to date the person whose friends were victims of such crime his boss committed within the school grounds.

In their eyes, he’s just another, plain old student whose associated with the Octavinelle dorm. Dressed in a slick suit with an expression which others deemed to be disturbing and scary, his wide, heterochromic eyes watching their every move and his intense mood swings was the top of the iceberg.

While others claimed that he’s too scary to be someone else’s lover, you on the other hand loved those traits of his. Sure that his mood swings may scare you a bit but you heavily adored his toothy smile, his different colored eyes and the hugs he gave you in which he claimed that “it’s just a tight squeeze, nothing more shrimpyyy.” He also appreciated the way you hold his hand whenever classes are adjourned for the day or just taking a stroll outside of your dorm.

It was funny to remember the first time when you broke the news to your heartslabyul friends that you’re dating one of the tweels and it spread throughout Night Raven College. Some students, even your friends gave you their deepest sympathies, for they thought that you signed a contract that you’ll be bind as Floyd’s lover for the rest of your life but in reality, there’s no contract to begin with.

From just a simple frenemy relationship to the blossoming sweet romance and becoming lovers, you reassured those students that your boyfriend didn’t forced you to be in this kind of relationship. On the other hand, Floyd was sick and tired from the rumours he heard from his peers. Why can’t he just have a normal relationship with you without being tied to his dorm’s capabilities? Yes, he knew that he, his brother and Azul are doing despicable acts before (and still does) but it doesn’t mean he’s always the bad guy, wether it was in a relationship or in his life as a student.

He just want to squeeze the living daylights from that said student but his lover was always there to calm him down before he got into trouble.

It’s not unusual for Floyd to strike a deal with you, wether the ends meet was a bit outrageous or just as simple as a shell washed ashore by the sea, all of his bets and deals was just his mere ways on having fun with you. His antics may caught you into the borderline of being in trouble but he’s always there to defend you, even taking all the blame to himself, which Azul doesn’t like at all.

His basketball game was coming up and it’s been a while for him to have a bet with you, and what better way to meet ends meet is from your sweet delicate lips, the kisses that he couldn’t get enough of and is definitely one of the best feelings he’d gotten from you. “Shrimpy! Shrimpyyy, let’s have a deall~ I promise this won’t be like the last time~” He said, his pace began to catch up while holding your hand with his cold, large ones. “Not this time, Floyd. I love you so much but the last bet we had was way out of line I mean- we almost set Ramshackle Dorm on fire.” You exclaimed but it didn’t bothered your boyfriend, not even one bit.

“Orrr you could just stay with me back at Octavinelle. In that way, we could have more time for the two of us. No distractions, no Baby Seal and more cuddle time for us~” Floyd hugged you tightly but not tight enough for you to suffocate while nuzzling his face on your neck, embracing the warmth you radiated from your body.

“Alright, alright, enough of this lovey dovey moment. Let’s hear this bet of yours.” Your boyfriend let’s out a small ‘yes!!’ while giving you a small chaste kiss on your cheek and taking a stop beside the lockers. “Sooo, you know that my game was coming up, right?” You nodded. “I was thinking of a small bet that only you could fullfil it’s requirements, my cute and lovely shrimp.” You raised an eye brow after listening to his words. “And what are these so-called ends meet I’m about to give?”

Floyd circled around you like some kind of vulture, a toothy grin on his face. The anticipation was killing you on the inside and couldn’t handle, not even a second to hear your boyfriend’s prize when he wins this little bet. “If I take the final shot in the game, I can finally give you a kiss on the lips. However, if I couldn’t meet the end of the bargain, then I’ll buy you anything you’ve wanted.” This bet seems to be different than the last ones the two of you made. Aside from the usual buying each other’s lunch or that one item every student wanted in their stationary but a kiss? Not just any kiss but on the damn lips?

Now that he’d mentioned it, you never tried kissing your boyfriend on the lips due to on how shy you were towards him. But him mentioning your first kiss as his own prize makes you tingly and excited at the same time so, you accepted it. A kiss after the game won’t hurt anyone, right? “Alright then, it’s a deal, sweetie.” You let out your hand for him to shake but surprisingly, instead of shaking your hand, he brought your hand against his lips and kissed your palms.

“No backing out this time, shrimpy. I’ll make sure I’ll win this little bet of ours~”

“We’ll see about that, you sly eel.”

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

A few days after your boyfriend proposed the bet, you can see on how excited and giddy he was, concerning his twin brother and wants to know on why his twin was getting ecstatic all of the sudden. He spilled the beans to Jade that he proposed this bet where he shall receive his first kiss when he wins this bet. Jade was amused by his brother’s antics and congratulated him in advance.

However, not only he was giddy about the bet in his dorm but also as soon as you’re watching him during his practice.

In his training together with Ace and the other club members? You was there, sending him a blow kiss as he gave you a small wink in return. You gave him a spare water bottle while his own energy drink ran out? He gave you another kiss as a way to say his thanks to you. While the other students who watches the practice are grossed out by the public display of affection, you on the other hand, loved these small gestures of his.

You are indeed his biggest support and he couldn’t get enough by your praises on how good he was in this kind of sport. That trait of yours is exactly why he loves you so much and was lucky for someone like him to have you as his significant other, even you didn’t have such magic abilities to begin with.

As the big day arrived, he and his team are in concentration mode as their hands dribbles the ball back and forth. The countdown decreased as more games are finished, the shout and cheers of both rivaling schools (not RSA but a lesser known school) filled the entire court as eyes are constantly glued to see which school has the ball. On the bleachers, your hands are constantly sweating from the paranoia and sheer excitement you’ve felt, not only to the game but also towards your boyfriend.

10 seconds left on the clock…

Another point was given to the opposing side, making NRC and the opposing school into the draw line and you can see how his mood shifted; from having fun to pure annoyance. You can see that your boyfriend’s about to give one of the opposing players a squeeze but thankfully, he calmed down just for a bit after he was talked down by his coach. His eyes drifted towards you, smiling as you called out his name, cheering for him and his teammates. Your cheers, presence and the bet alone is what made him determined enough to win this match. He will get that reward and if this man wants something, he will get it, no matter how difficult it was to achieve it.

The ball was passed down to Ace, next in line was Jamil, running towards Floyd as he dribbles down the ball in a fast pace. The squeaking of their shoes can be heard throughout the entire game as the crowd began to cheer for their respective schools. Many of the opposing players tried to snatch the ball from Jamil but due to his reflexes, he passed down the ball to the tallest player they had in their team. Sweat embedded on Floyd’s head, his eyes glued towards the hoop as his head screams that he’ll win this game and bet.

5...

He will take the final shot…

4…

He will win the game for you..

3…

His sweet prefect was watching over the bleachers….

2…

Floyd Leech will claim those lips as his own prize…

1….

He takes the shot…

And every student from NRC stood up from their seats and shouted in happiness when he takes the final shot, beating the opposing school with 3 more points, hence beating the tie and won the game. From a distance, Floyd heard your screams of happiness as he smirked proudly. “That’s my boyfriend right there!!! I’m so proud of him!! He takes the final shot and I’m so happy that they bring home the cup!!”

While the games had come to its end and many of it’s students went home for the day, you went down from the bleachers and waved for your boyfriend. Suddenly, it hits him. The bet! He’s so focused about his own victory that he forgot about claiming his prize since he won the bet. Floyd ran towards you, once again his toothy grin showing up as he carries you in his arms via princess style. “Looks like I won the game, shrimpy and I’m going to claim my prize~” A soft laugh can be heard from, in which you rolled you eyes playfully. “Alright alright, you win, sweetie. Congratulations on winning the game and you can know kiss me on–!!”

Upon hearing your go signal, he didn’t hesitate to place his lips against yours, his eyes closed and felt the loving and warm atmosphere surrounding the two of you as you kissed him back. One of your hands cupped on the side of his face as he lets out a soft hum while kissing you. Floyd was indeed correct from his own prediction, the kiss was indeed sweet and warm, all because it came from you.

He didn’t have any regrets having your first kiss as his prize. No medals nor trophies could beat having your lover’s kisses as your prize. Floyd Leech was a greedy student and it looks like he wants more of your kisses.

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