#if they feel cute enough nothing can touch them... not the depths of their own despair and certainly not the consequences of their actions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

love-toxin · 2 months

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jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

#sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyun su x reader #hyun su x reader #gn reader #ellie writes #3k

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starsandhughes · 6 months

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Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Eight)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: seven

next: nine

this is so short i’m sorry! i’m still playing catch up

NOVEMBER 1, 2023

yourusername

liked by tterry19, trevorzegras, and 19,723 others

yourusername welcome back to my postgame penalty box update show: my boyfriend might be moving into the penalty box edition!

after sitting for part of leason's penalty in the first (because my mans is the default criminal), trevor got his own penalty bestowed to him for slashing travis dermott in the third! my poor baby didn't even know he did it :( but alas, he did the crime, and he did the time

scared of watching a game loss? never fear! the duckies are here! my boys got their fifth straight win tonight in overtime against the coyotes! the best part about this? MY DAD, TROY TERRY, SCORED HIS SECOND CAREER HAT TRICK TONIGHT! it was completed in overtime where he scored the game winning goal after scoring the first two, and he's the first duck EVER to score a hat trick in overtime! i’m so proud of you, dad! i love you! @/tterry19

AND FRANKIE! FRANKIE TANKIE! THANK YOU FOR FIGHTING! YOU SINGLE HANDEDLY BECAME MY GOD FOR THE NIGHT! MWAH! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! STAY CRAZY!

and to my sweet boy, i'm sorry you've got a pointless drought, but you're playing great! it's the beginning of the season, you'll pop off soon enough! i love you, always🧡

p.s. LEO, MY SON! YOU BROUGHT US INTO OVERTIME AND I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR THAT! I LOVE YOU!

tagged trevorzegras and frank_vatrano

view all 133 comments

trevorzegras i love you, forever, my favorite personal cheerleader🧡

yourusername coachy cro doesn't call me the ducks's human mascot for nothing! but i’ll always be your cheerleader first🫶

trevorzegras aww, you sap

yourusername for you? always

trevorzegras that's three times you've said always! that's a love hatty

yourusername i'd call something different a love hatty, but i’ll take it! go me!

trevorzegras you're thinking of a horny hatty

yourusername ah yes, how could i get them confused?

trevorzegras silly girl!

jamie.drysdale oh my god make it stop

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale jealous much?

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale green is not a good color on you

jamie.drysdale i quit

yourusername maybe the twins will split into three and we can have a baby hatty!

trevorzegras that's so many babies

yourusername and we would love them all!

trevorzegras yes we would, sweet girl

jamie.drysdale oh so NOW you decide to be cute

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale we have depth

user7 okay but that fight was hot as fuck and suddenly... i’m on my knees for vatrano

user33 DEFAULT CRIMINAL HA

_quinnhughes how does it feel to be below me on the penalty totem pole, zegras?

trevorzegras you're at two games

_quinnhughes and you have 8 penalty minutes 10 games into the season

yourusername laideez, laideez, save the animosity for november 28th!

trevorzegras @/yourusername you have a "we can't fuck with each other" rule

_quinnhughes @/yourusername you're sending mixed signals, sissy

yourusername @/trevorzegras @_quinnhughes trip him

trevorzegras @/yourusername who was that for??

yourusername @/trevorzegras yes

user6 "my poor baby didn't even know he crimed" and it's not even the first time😭

yourusername @/trevorzegras yeah, BABE! don't touch kivi's stick!! and apparently don't do that other thing!!

trevorzegras @/yourusername IT DIDN'T USED TO BE A RULE

yourusername @/trevorzegras SO YOU SHOULD'VE TESTED IT OUT AGAINST NOT THE STARS

trevorzegras @/yourusername you're right, i’m sorry

user39 i need to know what vatrano and durzi were saying to get z's jaw to drop

jamie.drysdale our boy is trying to defenseman that's why he's not rallying up those points obviously

yourusername damn and i thought he was trying to become a goalie

jamie.drysdale you're not very observant, my ex dear

yourusername bite me, my ex husband

yourusername psa to everyone: I'M WITH HIM AND HE ACTUALLY BIT ME

jamie.drysdale psa to everyone: she bit me back and whacked me

yourusername psa to everyone: i also bit mason just for funzies

masonmctavish23 i gotta stop hanging out with you three after games

yourusername @/masonmctavish23 but then you'd be lame

jamie.drysdale @/masonmctavish23 don't be lame

masonmctavish23 is this a cult? it feel like a cult

trevorzegras @/masonmctavish probably

user20 the ducks: ceo of comebacks this season

leocarlssoon i love you, too, mom! i scored just for you!

yourusername you're such a good son🧡

trevorzegras it wasn't for... ya know... the team?

yourusername @/trevorzegras not everything is about you, trevor

leocarlssoon @/trevorzegras shhh what she doesn't know won't hurt her

trevorzegras @/leocarlssoon you really are a good son!

user16 BEAUTIFUL, ANXIETY INDUCING, GAME!

tterry19 thank you! i love you, too

yourusername AHHHHHHH

trevorzegras and she means that

tterry19 you crazy, kids😂

jackhughes @/trevorzegras this isn't very sissy's fiancé of you

trevorzegras listen, i'm trying

yourusername he's making passes!! the other guys just aren't scoring either!!

jackhughes @/trevorzegras do you always make your girl fight your battles?

trevorzegras @/jackhughes i’ve seen you jump over the couch screaming because she started lunging at you

jackhughes @/trevorzegras unimportant

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes we used to call her scary sissy

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 also unimportant

yourusername @/jackhughes don't get all cocky just because i’m pregnant and can't jump you. i remember everything. i have other ways to attack you.

jackhughes @/yourusername please don't

trevorzegras @/yourusername that's my girl!

user44 sissy is feeling a lil ratty tonight i see

frank_vatrano your god for tonight?😂 i'll accept that! i love you, too!

yourusername as you should!

trevorzegras @/yourusername i can't believe you're hoeing stromer like this

yourusername @/trevorzegras he's my HERO not my god! i can't believe you think i’d do that to my stromer

frank_vatrano @/yourusername then who's normally your god?

yourusername @/frank_vatrano me

frank_vatrano @/yourusername that's taking god complex to a whole new level

trevorzegras @/frank_vatrano she is next level

yourusername @/trevorzegras SIMP

trevorzegras @/yourusername for you? forever🧡

#penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras au #trevor zegras insta edit #quinn hughes #jack hughes #jamie drysdale #luke hughes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jamie drysdale imagine #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #mason mctavish

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omkookie · 9 months

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♡ Suitors ♡ · Silvio, Clavis Nokto and Luke. 🩷

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere themes, slightly suggestive, Murder. Fluffy yanderes 15+ ☺️

Silvio

He hates the man from the moment he sees him. How dare he approach you? It was very fucking obvious that you were HIS woman. You were covered in HIS Jewellery, wearing HIS fancy collar. It was clear as day that you were Silvio Ricci's possession.

No one should be approaching you. Especially not that sneaky cunt of a nobleman who has a reputation of being a womanizer. After he sees the nobleman put his hand on your waist, Silvio snaps and is by your side in a split second, his hands grabbing the guy so hard that his rings leave imprints on his skin. He shoves him away from you, and you take Silvio’s hand to immediately calm him down. You just know that Silvio will turn this into a fight if you don’t. Silvio huffs, still very fucking annoyed by the nobleman as nobleman dismisses himself, coming up with an excuse to leave, and apologizing profusely as he does so.

When he leaves, you pull Silvio in for a hug, Telling your sweet boy how happy you are of the progress he’s made, and how he didn’t do something like dumping the man in the sea. Silvio nestles his head into the crook of your neck and listens to you, feeling somewhat content with your praise as you give him your affection.

He’s still beyond jealous. How could a scummy little nobleman touch you? Especially when he knows that you belong to Silvio. HIs mere audacity was enough to land him dead in the sea behind the palace. If it weren’t for you, Silvio would have the man tied and then drowned. It’s only because of your kindness and your ability to deal with his yandere tendencies that he got away… That doesn’t fully mean that he gets off the hook though. Silvio is hateful, Very hateful and possessive. He’ll make sure that the man’s business turns into a living hell. May that be a lesson to the scummy nobleman never touch you again.

Oh, But Silivo’s jealousy will get toned down after you give him some kisses! Just don’t surprise him, and make sure that you give him a warning before you smooch him. You don’t want his face to turn the same color as a tomato’s while there are still other people around.

Or do you?

Clavis

“………”

A very long moment of silence, and cue to Clavis looking at the man with murderous intent. Ooh, what will he do to that man? He’ll dig a pitfall so deep for him, that he can fall in and possibly break a leg. He’ll fill it with poison ivy so that he gets problems with his respiratory system, and–

You notice your lover’s salty frown from across the room, then immediately know what’s up. You dismiss yourself and walk over to Clavis, enveloping your lover in your arms to hold him close. Clavis pouts, but hugs you in return before resting his cheek on your shoulder. “All he did was greet me. Clavis.” You tell him while snuggling against his chest.“

Clavis somewhat calms down, For now… And it’s only because you look so cute when snuggling against him. Still, In his head he schemes what he’ll do with the man late at night, before he returns home to you. He knows who the man is, and he knows how infatuated the man is with you.

That’s why he’ll deal with the matter later.

Now, Is it wrong, or is it right? Taking a person’s life just because they touched something that’s his? Was it immoral to be protective of what you hold dearest to you? Was it okay to stab someone, and then watch as the blood gushes out of them?

Clavis watches the blood seep out of the nobleman’s wound, and although he knows that he should feel guilt he feels nothing. In his eyes, he simply did what was right. The man shouldn’t have touched you. He shouldn’t have tried getting close to you, and it was his own damn fault that he was dead. Clavis kicks his body off of the cliff and watches as it plunges into the depths of a thick fog. The cold night air chills his skin, and the coppery smell of blood still lingers in the air. Letting out a resigned sigh, He decides to finally go back home to you. You’ll surely be waiting for him in bed, and he can’t wait to shower you in his hugs.

He’ll never hold another ball in his territory though.

Nokto

Oh. He’s mad alright.

He hates the man from the bottom of his heart. How could a disgusting insect like him kiss the back of YOUR hand? Nokto appears behind you and makes a show out of pulling you close to him by your waist, and then kissing your neck to show off that you’re his. Jealousy easily bubbles up within him when another man does as little as look at you. You are beautiful. Gorgeous, clad in one of the nicest looking dresses which he picked out for you. Other men getting to look at you was bad enough, But, having the audacity to touch you was foul. His display of affection, of course, makes the guy who kissed you leave awkwardly.

Nokto watches in annoyance as the man leaves, and then he pouts, looking like an annoyed little fox. He takes your arm to lead you toward the rose garden.

“Don’t go seducing other guys besides me now.” He teases you, trying to sound as unaffected as possible while you leave the ballroom together. But of course, you can see right through his facade.

In the garden, his lips are all over your body. His hands roam over your skin, and he sucks and kisses every inch of your chest. He loves you. He loves you so much, Your body, mind and soul. You’re perfect, and he adores you. So, don’t leave him no matter what, and don’t look at any other man. He’ll love you sweetly, and he’ll hold you even closer until his jealousy melts away… His jealousy of course, quickly dissipates when you cup his cheeks and kiss him. Your sweet words of reassurance make his heart melt, and he sighs in bliss as he rests his head onto your shoulder.

You coddle him all evening long, giving him your undivided attention and sweet affection. Needless to say, This wild fox is tamed and cuddly on your lap, absorbing all of the love that he can like a sponge.

Luke

Your protective boyfriend doesn’t leave you alone. That’s why, It comes as a surprise to both of you when a rather audacious man starts hitting on you right in front of him. You chuckle, clearly not fazed by the man’s flirty demeanor, and obviously finding him rather ridiculous. Luke, on the other hand, just watches as you reject his advances and laugh at him. You don’t waste any time entertaining the man, and simply hug your boyfriend closer. He wraps a protective arm around you, and shoots a piercing glare at the man so that he finally leaves.

Once left alone, you go back to munching on your honey’d snacks, and enjoying the theatre’s play. You have a nice day with Luke and forget all about the man from earlier,

Luke on the other hand hasn’t. He knows that the man who followed you to the theatre was a nobleman who was deeply in love with you, and thinking about how the guy must have been stalking you to get here was insufferable. He decides to take things in his own hands that evening so that the nobleman wouldn’t stalk you again. He waits for the man to appear behind a bar before grabbing him by the collar of his neck and slamming him against the building. Before he knows it, He strangles the nobleman to death– and then looking down at his hands, he feels guilty.

He let his obsession get the better of him, and allowed his impulsive decision to take control of him.

Luke comes home looking like a kicked puppy and confesses what has happened, expecting you to immediately berate him for what he did… But you don’t. He’s surprised when you sigh in exasperation but still comfort him, and tell him everything will be okay. You snuggle against your gentle giant and pet his head until he feels better, and his heart flutters when you run your fingers through his hair. Even after finding out about something like that, you were still so king. Even though he killed someone, you didn’t look at him like he was a murderer.

You still looked at him like he was your lover.

Luke hugs you tightly, then he kisses your forehead to thank you for not hating him. <3

@ala-rossi

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

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𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A oldie from 2021. I did a little editing so if it seems different... that's because it is. [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your slutty boyfriend decide to smoke weed and fuck on his ugly couch. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, marijuana, dubcon (fucking under the influence), hair pulling, oral sex (f + m receiving), unprotected sex, general Zeke bossiness, weed-induced paranoia, teasing, he finishes in your mouth.

“So… How annoying should I expect you to be?”

You were sitting on Zeke’s hideous suede green couch, playing with his lighter. The blonde was planted on the floor between your legs, hunched over his equally hideous oak coffee table.

“You want me to quantify how annoying I am going to be?”

You giggled and watched as he folded a crutch for the joint. It was cute how focused he was under the effects of two edibles. Brownies, to be specific. You had baked them yourself so the potency of said brownies was essentially a mystery.

Initially due to overwhelming impatience, the two of you thought they were shit and that you managed to bake plain, unexciting brownies. It wasn’t until Zeke was being significantly sweeter than usual and you were hyperaware of your fingers that you realized the brownies were a success.

“Did I stutter?” you asked, pressing your hand against Zeke’s back.

He wore a plain black v-neck that clung to his body. You couldn’t help but touch him in some way. You dragged your thumb down his spine. He shivered and you yanked your hand away.

He paused and turned to you, eyes filled with concern.. “Is there something on my back?”

“… Me? I was.”

“Oh. I thought a small animal was crawling on me.”

“I mean… It might as well have been.”

He shook his head. “No, I pictured like a small deer.”

“How high are you?”

He sprinkled weed into a rolling paper. “Not high enough.”

You peeked over his shoulders to get a view of his nimble fingers.

“Shit,” he whispered.

You were wrong to assume he would retain his dexterity. The joint looked folded rather than rolled.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you asked.

You were legitimately not sure. It pained you to lack faith, but his jumbled hands were hardly promising.

“I—I don’t know. I really… I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Do you, like…” Your brain grew slower by the second. “Like, do you need...”

“Help?”

“Yeeeeaaaaaah,” you drawled. The word melted out of your mouth.

Zeke sighed and unfolded the joint.

“I’ll be fine. I got this. I’m going to do great. I just have to pretend that these are my own hands.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Sweetie, those are your hands.”

“I’m well aware. They don’t feel like mine though.”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing you said would quell his anxiety. You rubbed his back, massaging your thumbs between his shoulder blades. A muted groan wriggled free from the depths of his chest.

“Fuck. That feels good.”

You let your hands roam past his shoulders, down his chest. You started to tug at his shirt.

His calloused hand grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Take it off,” you purred.

“Why?”

He went back to rolling the joint. He had greater success this time around. The joint was actually conical in shape. Not a depressingly flat rectangle.

“I don’t know. It’ll be fun?” You didn’t have a good reason, but it wasn’t like you needed one. You just wanted him as close to naked as possible. “Please humor me,” you continued. “I made the brownies. The least you could do is walk around shirtless.”

He shook his head and handed you the joint over his shoulder.

“Please?” you begged.

“This is demeaning,” he said, smirking.

He stood up and proceeded to take off his shirt. You stared at his god-like figure, unable to hide your lust. He blushed.

“Here.” He handed his shirt to you. “To my biggest fan.”

You held it like it was an Oscar. “Wow. This is truly a moment in history. People will be talking about this forever.”

“I can’t wait for the retrospective article in ten years.”

“Oh, it’s going to be incredible. I’m going to overanalyze this moment so fucking hard.”

“Heh. Hard.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” He sat down beside you and put his head on your shoulder. “Are you going to light that?”

You looked at the joint in your hand. “Did you hand me this?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes and held the joint between your lips, ready to light it.

“Wrong end, pet.”

You looked down and noticed you were two centimeters from fucking everything up.

“Thank you.” You proceeded to light the joint properly. You took a long drag and let the smoke drift from your mouth. “That’s good.”

You handed the joint to Zeke. He took a hit and exhaled, tossing his head back.

“It’s awful.” He hit it again, longer this time.

“Really? Awful, huh?”

“The worst weed I’ve smoked.”

“Can I?” You reached for the joint but he held it out of reach.

“No, no, no. It’s horrible after a couple hits. You wouldn’t like it.”

You stretched yourself over his lap trying to grab the joint. He laughed at your pitiful attempt. You looked like you were body surfing.

“Alright, fine. Since you’re so desperate.” He pulled on the back of your shirt, lifting you up. Rather than body surfing you now looked like a sea lion performing for a snack. He held the joint to your face and you inhaled eagerly.

“That’s good shit. It smells nice.” You took another hit. Zeke let go of your shirt and gently laid you back down on his lap.

“I was definitely expecting something disgusting. But I always expect something disgusting, don’t I?… I’m gross. I’m a garbage man. Don’t look at me.”

“I wasn’t. I can’t from this angle.”

You were in fact facing away from him.

“Good. You shouldn’t look at someone like me. I’m… Ugh.”

“Are you going to be okay? Like, seriously? I’m concerned-ish.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He finally took a hit. “I just don’t understand why I was born, that’s all.”

You flipped over so you could look up at him. He gazed down at you.

“Please don’t look at me from this angle. You can see right up my nose.”

“You’re so self-conscious.” You sat up and started to toy with his hair.

“I don’t know what’s up there… My secrets could start leaking out.”

“You’re such a weenie. Gimme that.”

Zeke didn’t protest. He relinquished the joint. You took a drag and an idea hit you like a sledgehammer.

“Shotgun.”

“Oh, no. I cannot drive anywhere.”

“No, Zeke, I’m not calling ‘shotgun’. I’m saying shotgun. As in, ‘Let's shotgun this weed.’”

He looked at you like a perplexed puppy. He clearly didn’t understand.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god.”

You took another hit off the joint and turned his head towards yours. You placed your lips on his. You slowly breathed the smoke into his mouth. You pulled away and he exhaled. He met your eyes, but averted your gaze soon after.

“Don’t look at me.”

“You’re so sensitive.”

“It’s like you’re judging everything I do.”

You hit the joint. “What? No. I am totally staring at you and shit, but not out of judgment. More out of, like, I’m a huge pervert or whatever.”

He gave you an impish grin. You fucked up. You shouldn’t have admitted to such a thing.

“Is that why you wanted my shirt off?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me.” He stood up like he was giving a presentation and pulled off his grey sweatpants revealing his navy blue briefs. You were entranced by his shapely thighs. “Is this what you wanted?” He did a 360 degree turn so you could get a good look at his body.

“Hmm. Not quite.” You took a hit.

“What do I need to do?”

“You still have socks on.”

He took them off. You hit the joint again.

“Glasses,” you purred, letting the smoke roll out of your mouth.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

He took them off and placed them on the coffee table.

“Undies.”

He went to take them off, but stopped. “Hold on! Wait a minute. Nope. What is this?” It was like he woke up from a dream.

“Sorry, I took it too far. Let me get on your level. It’s only fair. Here. Finish this.”

You passed Zeke the rest of the joint. There wasn’t much left at this point. You shed all your clothes minus your bra and underwear.

“Alright.” He held the joint in his mouth and stripped off his underwear.

“Whoa! You, uh. I was kidding…” You paused and let your eyes wander down his body. “For the most part.”

His erect cock stared you down. Beautifully veiny with a pleasant pink hue, framed by trimmed blond pubic hair. It was picturesque.

You clasped your hands. “I swear every time I see it feels like the first time.”

The smug fucker smirked and finished off the joint. He stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table.

“You gonna take care of it?”

You nodded and quickly undressed. He walked over to you, stroking himself, as you reclined on the couch like a lounging goddess. You outstretched your arms and pulled him into your embrace. You kissed him, shoving your tongue into his mouth without warning. He hesitated for a moment but quickly reciprocated. He was operating on a slight delay. You felt the tip of his cock gently prod your glistening cunt.

“Not yet,” you murmured. “Go down on me.”

He lowered himself, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He pulled down your underwear. He traced his tongue down your folds. His beard tickled your thighs. A small moan left your lips. You held his head in place, letting your fingers get tangled in his hair.

“Pull on it,” he demanded as he bit on the inside of your thigh.

You clutched a chunk of his hair and pulled. He let out a voracious groan and gave your clit long, languid licks. A whiny moan burst past your lips.

You paused. “Shit. Was that loud?”

He stopped and looked up at you. “No. At least I don’t think so. Why? Did you hear something?”

“No… At least I don’t think I did.”

You stared at each other. The fear began to take hold.

“Hold on,” Zeke said in a comically authoritative tone.

He stood up and slowly approached the door.

“Do not open the door. You’re scary hard right now,” you hissed.

“I’m not gonna open it. I… am gonna glance through the peephole.”

He peered through the hole. And there was nothing. Not a soul.

“Oof. We’re losing it, pet.”

He walked over to you and went back to work as if nothing happened. He swirled his tongue around your clit, this time applying more pressure. He wanted to hear you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, Zeke. Don’t stop!”

He didn’t. Waves of pleasure came over you. You bucked your hips against his mouth. You craved penetration; you felt like you would perish without it.

“Need your cock,” you mewled.

He lifted himself up and lorded over your body, leaving you in the shadow of his. He pushed two of his rough fingers inside your dripping cunt

“You’re so wet,” he said, curling his fingers and pressing the pads of them up against your walls. “And so easy. I thought I might have to work for it considering you’re high.”

“Don’t be mean,” you whimpered.

“Then don’t make it so much fun,” he replied before lightly biting your neck.

His hot breath against your skin was driving you wild.

“Do you want my cock inside you?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy.

“Say it. Say you want my cock inside you.”

“I want your cock inside me. Please.”

“Attagirl,” he grunted as he guided his cock inside you.

Once it was fully ensheathed he began to thrust. His balls clapped against your taint as he picked up the pace, his tip pressing up against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you yelped.

Zeke angled your hips upward and drove his cock into you. Ecstasy flooded your core. He held you closer to his body, his thrusts growing in urgency. His breathing labored. He caressed your breasts, his long fingers pinching your nipple.

“I’m close,” he choked out. His grey eyes were hazy with arousal.

“You can wait,” you exhaled.

He groaned and continued to plunge his length into you. His fingernails dug into your hips, adding to your bliss. You grabbed onto his ass and rutted up against him. Your orgasm overwhelmed you and left you seeing stars. You felt like you were hovering above the couch, your pleasure letting you defy the laws of gravity. Though that was probably the weed more than your orgasm.

“Open your mouth. Now,” he commanded, releasing you from the mindless rapture you were lost in.

You did as you were told, getting into position. You hungrily sucked on his cock, milking every drop of cum from him. It flooded your mouth, trickles of it spilling down your chin and onto your chest.

“Such a messy little thing, aren’t you?”

You wiped your mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. “Not my fault you shoot a huge load.”

He grabbed his shirt and tenderly cleaned you up.

“What the fuck, Zeke?”

He tossed the shirt aside and gave you a confused look, eyebrows raised.

“What did I do?”

“You just got cum all over my award.”

You both stared at the dejected black shirt crumpled on the floor.

“My bad, pet,” he said, scratching behind his ear.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #.fics #.aot #.zeke #x reader #reader insert

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 4 months

Text

Rose Recaps 2023 - Thailand

Ok. Let me just get this out of the way. If there were awards for "started of great but forgot what it was about by the end" Thailand would win them all. No other country can touch them. So when I was going through my list of watched Thai Bls there weren't all that many to choose as favourites. but I'll try to be kind.

The one about family

Moonlight Chicken

First and foremost this show is stunning. This really cannot be overstated. I really enjoyed all the different relationships represented here and that the idea of family is what you want it to be. I love all of them, and Wen did absolutely nothing wrong.

Favourite Moment This conversation left me in tears.

The one hated by so many but not me

Dangerous Romance

This was me whenever there was a new episode.

I'm not gonna say people were wrong. Everybody has the right to their own opinions. But I never expected anything else.

This show gave me exactly what I expected of it. They made a romantic version of the trailer for christ sake. The ost video that came out the day before the premiere was a love fest with the softest song sang by Chimon. I agree that the first 2 episodes were different and for some, misleading about the direction of the show.

Not for me though. I got what I wanted. Chimon and Perth on my screen being boyfriends with some drama sprinkled in for good measure. And with the amazing bonus that was Marc and Pawin together again and the character of Auto that I just adored. I actually enjoyed all the characters in this one.

Favourite Moment

The one that is beautiful

I Feel You Linger In The Air

The amount of screenshots I took while watching this would fill a hard drive. It's just gorgeous. The way they played with the spaces was just such a treat.

This show was almost perfect. I had a couple of issues with it midway through and I felt that they dragged the goodbye a tiny bit much but overall I really liked it. These two are very special but overall there were a lot of characters to root for and enough of them to hate, which I appreciate.

But also WHERE IS THE SPECIAL??? I need to watch it!

Favourite Moment

The one that was I was ready to hate and then didn't

Be My Favourite

Confession time. I didn't like Krist. Watching SOTUS was something I endured but didn't enjoy for the most part. I know I'm not alone in this. But also. I didn't like Fluke. In anything. He was the only thing I didn't like in Not Me, and I skipped most scenes of his couple during Dark Blue Kiss. No particular reason tho. I just didn't enjoy watching him. So the bar was set pretty low on this one for me.

And then what happened? I loved Kawi. Like immediately. And surprise surprise, I liked Fluke. Immediately. It's like I was on an alternate universe and I couldn't believe my eyes.

With that said, it was not even close to a perfect show. It started off really strong, I enjoy the way the relationship grew, I loved that the characters were being honest with each other and being mostly kind to one another. Some moments felt really grounded. And then it kinda fell apart for me. But this is a positive post so I'm not going there.

Favourite Moment: The whole montage.

The one with the redemption of Mame

Wedding Plan

I already explained what I went through with this show here prompted by this episode of @the-conversation-pod. You should all go listen to this and all the other episodes because both @bengiyo and @shortpplfedup are brilliant and funny in convenient audio format.

Anyway, in the end I loved this show so much and took me a minute to come to terms that it was actually that good. The characters are actually multidimensional and the woman have depth. Groundbreaking stuff.

Favourite Moment

The one with all the cuteness

My School President

Not gonna lie, not a huge fan of singing in my bl. But this was great. From the beginning the fact that it made constantly remember my beloved Love Sick was an unexpected and delightfull bonus. I was living for Tinn's expressions, Tiw just being delightfully loyal and the epitome of sharing one brain cell group of friends. Not to forget the parental relationships that were some of the best of the year. I even liked the singing.

Favourite Moment

The extra one

Our Skyy 2 - A Tale of a Thousand Stars

This happened. It was perfect. That's it.

I watched more than 40 thai shows that came out this year, I'm not counting the ones that are still on, and these were my favourites. Mostly because some of them were the ones that I had the least to complain about.

That's it for my recaps. I still wanna gif some stuff today and it's late so I can't review this post again so if there are mistakes, don't tell me. It'll haunt me.

Have a good night💜

#Rose Recaps 2023 #moonlight chicken #my school president #wedding plan the series #be my favorite #i feel you linger in the air #dangerous romance #multi bl #rose rambles

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peach-cream-enmu-archive · 2 years

Text

Repost from my old blog

Sebastian loves the way you sleep. Your body laying in such a way that gives him easy access to finger you

Cw: somnophilia, fat pus.sy, implied plus sized reader as always, afab but no pronouns, mentions of hairy puss.y cuz it’s accurate to the time (I think) but also because hairy pu.ssy cute😡I either get really descriptive or pretty vague about it, I’m writing this before I write that so we’ll see. non-period accurate clothing, using the word panties because I’m not looking up Victorian era underwear just for a horny post.

You look so perfect asleep in your bed. Once everyone’s retired for the night Sebastian will wait until you’ve fallen into the lowest depths of sleep before entering your room. On your side, legs locked and bent up slightly, or even better yet, apart with one raised higher than the other, exposing your cute clothed lips. He can’t hold himself back, not that he was planning to, as the back of his fingers trail up your thigh to just under you ass, then dipping between your thighs. Your always so warm, seemingly always wet and he likes to think it’s because of him, though he’s aware your body does it on its own, it’s fun to think about.

Two fingers stroke your lips, back and forth, before spreading them through the soaked cloth of your panties. He goes straight for your clit and gently circles it, chuckling at the small noise from you. He’ll get more comfortable, leaning over you, supporting his weight on your headboard. He’ll press gently at the barrier between him and your hole and feel you twitch. He’ll feel his glove wetting from you and pull it off with his teeth, groaning softly as your taste briefly graces his tongue and your scent floods his senses.

You’re so wet, the cloth visibly darker in color, and he gently pulls it to the side. You shift in your sleep and he chuckles at how convenient your movement was, shifting just enough to let your panties catch between your plush mound and soft thighs, effectively keeping it out of his way. Now with his gloves and your panties out of the way, he can finally feel you again. Truly feel you, as it had been far too long since had the opportunity.

Always so busy winding down the energy of the manor, and usually by the time things have fully rested for the night, he’ll need to start preparing for the coming morning. But he has the occasional night where nothing is expected of him come sunrise, so he can spend all the time with you that your sleeping state will allow.

Sebastian is known for his unbreakable composure, yet he can’t stop the shuddering breath that releases from his lungs when he feels your skin. So wet, your lips feel like velvet, soft and plush in his touch. The normally coarse hair on them so soft, all of you is just…so wonderfully soft and plump. His knee comes up to rest on the bed just behind your back and the new weight on the mattress has you rolling just enough that your back rests against his leg.

As he ever so slowly pushes a single finger into you, he leans close to your face to see your beautiful face clearer in the candle-less room. He pumps his finger in and out of your heat with expert precision, stroking your slick walls with knowing familiarity. He knows every part of you that brings you pleasure. With a second finger you let out the most enticing moan, thighs trembling and lips parting lightly for your sounds.

He wants so desperately to swallow your sounds with a kiss, but that would risk you waking, and his fingers working your pussy loudly is already risking that enough. He whispers so lowly to you that it doesnt even pass the barrier of sleep to be heard in your dream.

“My pretty, oblivious little thing, so eager for pleasure and you don’t even know it.” He speeds up gradually, committing the sounds to memory. “In the morning, you’ll think only of the wonderful dream you had, knowing not of what I do to you..” he watches your chest as it rises and falls so quickly. He feels you tensing around his fingers and contemplates not stopping as your orgasm roars through you.

He stills, letting you whimper and buck with shaking thighs, belly twitching with each quick uneven heaved breath. When it starts to subside, he strokes your walls ever so slowly, wanting to pull every last drop of cum from you that he can. When he pulls away he’s tempted to get between your thighs and taste you, as he is every time.

He paints his tongue with his palm to the tips of his fingers, looking down at you as he straightens. He pulls your clothes back into place before exiting your room with one last look at you. He admires the way his black nails gleam with your juices in the moonlight streaming in the windows.

He smirks, turning and beginning his trek to his quarters from your room.

#toasted sugar cream #black butler smut #Sebastian michaelis smut #cream afab #cream butler

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fe-fictions · 1 year

Note

Can I please request Female Alear comforting Gregory and Alcryst separately after they had a nightmare. They are my top two favorites.

(Yes of course!! What a cute prompt idea!!!)

Alcryst: It’s obvious that he’s deeply shaken by the nightmare that had jolted him awake. But he did not want to alarm you, and he didn’t want you to think less of him despite also waking you up with his thrashing.

“I-i-it’s nothing. I’m sorry I w-woke you.” He stuttered through an apology, his face pale and his fingers quivering.

You’re quick to his side, rubbing circles on his back even though he can’t bring himself to look up at you.

“It’s not nothing if you’re upset. You don’t have to apologize…you know that.” You reminded him gently, giving him a soft smile when he managed to glance your direction for a half second. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Alcryst sighs deeply, clearly not sure if he was willing or able to talk about anything at all. You drew closer to him, pulling him in so that his head rested on your chest, and you wrapped your arms tightly around the Brodian prince.

“It wasn’t…a-anything I haven’t said before.”

“Another nightmare about the war?”

He did not reply, but the quiet nod was the only answer you needed. You sank into the mattress with him, pullin ghim into you as tightly as you could. Alcryst, at first, only remained in your arms, taking in the feeling of your comfort.

But then a shaky sigh escaped his lips, and his arms wrapped around you in return, tighter than ever. He clung to you, burying his face in your chest and accepting the litany of kisses and cuddles you would never dare keep from him.

“Do you want to go for a walk? Play some chess, maybe?” You asked him quietly, “I know that it’s easier to recover when you can focus on something else.”

He shook his head. “...No. This is good.”

You stroked his hair.

“Thank you, Alear…”

“Anything for you, my love.” You giggled softly, “If I could take away those awful dreams, I absolutely would.”

“No, no…this is perfect. I promise.”

-------------------------

Gregory: The first thing that happens is a sharp gasp.

He rocks the whole bed with the sudden jolt, covered in cold sweat and all but shaking. His gaze is not focused ona nything but the darkness in front of him, and the feel of his heart thundering in his chest as he struggles for air.

Naturally you wake up within moments, and it does not take long for you to piece together what happened.

The trauma he suffered his whole life was bad enough- but the struggles he endured throughout the war…the decisions he had to make, and the lives he would take…

It was not something that he would wish upon even the worst of his enemies. Being incapable of escaping his memories, even in the depths of sleep, was something that tormented him terribly.

And it was a fact you knew quite well.

“Hold on, darling.” You whisper in the dark. He cannot see you clearly, but he feels your warm hand press to his back before you slip away. The bed shifts as you get up, and he is left alone.

But only for a moment.

Within a single breath you have returned, with an armful of the softest plush animals. You pressed one of them into his arms. You would step away two more times, with each return harolin another delivery of plushes.

“I’m being careufl,” You said softly, “I don’t want them to be damaged.”

“It’s fine.” He hates the crack in his voice, but he knows that you don’t care.

You slide back onto the bed beside him. He rests his head on your shoulder, still in the silence of the dark.

“Want me to light a candle?”

He nods.

There is another shift, some shuffling, a murmured fire spell, and then…there’s light.

Your gaze is warm, but your smile is pinched- giving away your worry. His head touches your shoulder again, and one of his arms slips around your waist, to draw you as physically close asp ossible.

You kiss his temple, covering his hand with your own.

“I’m here, Gregory. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.”

He’s gruff, and husky, but he’s wide awake. And thankfully, mercifully, so are you.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You feel him shake his head again. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

He feels you thread your fingers with his, interlocking them carefully. He squeezes your hand, drawing it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

He can feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hey, now- I’m supposed to be comforting you. Now’s not the time for wooing.”

It does earn you a smile, and a clipped, solitary chuckle. But it’s a sign that he’s not completely spiraled; tonight was just a little gentler on him than usual.

"I can’t help it. I want to make sure you know how I feel.” He mumbled, “Thank you for looking after me, again.”

“I know you’d do the same for me. It’s not even a question.” You assured him, hugging him softly. “Should we try to go back to sleep?”

“Not yet.” He fiddles with the plush in his other hand. “Let’s stay like this a while longer.”

“Certainly. Just let me know if you need more stuffed animals- I’ll cover you head to toe.”

A promise you would be more than willing to deliver on after Gregory called your bluff. He knew he had a lot of stuffed toys, but surely not enough to be buried in.

You were quick to prove him wrong, which also helped to free him from the night terror’s clutches. After all, how could anyone stay upset when they were snuggled beneath a mountain of soft toys?

And, of course, covered in their beloved’s kisses?

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melon-cream-enmu · 1 year

Text

Repost from peach-cream-enmu-archive

Sebastian loves the way you sleep. Your body laying in such a way that gives him easy access to finger you

Cw: noncon somnophilia, fat pussy, implied plus sized reader as always, afab but no pronouns, mentions of hairy pussy cuz it’s accurate to the time (I think) but also because hairy pussy cute😡I either get really descriptive or pretty vague about it, I’m writing this before I write that so we’ll see. non-period accurate clothing, using the word panties because I’m not looking up Victorian era underwear just for a horny post.

He smirks, turning and beginning his trek to his quarters from your room.

#black butler smut #cream butler #toasted sugar cream #cream fem #cream afab #cream writes

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kingsbride-a · 1 year

Note

strawberry and cherry vanilla! -@flowersneverbend

strawberry: before getting together, how did your F/O realize they had a crush on you? How did they act around you once they realized they were head over heels?

Hmm... when they met for the first time back when Theseus was still a prince, him and Dia started acting like a dramatic lovey-dovey couple almost Immedietly. Partly because they were both young (late teens / early 20s at the time) but also because they felt so passionately!!

When they meet again in Elysium, they're both older, and Theseus now has a long trail of failed relationships behind him. At first he tries to deny the fact that he still feels a connection to Dia, partly because he's scared of hurting her, but it soon becomes obvious he can't contain his feelings.... and when Theseus has a crush, it's very, very, VERY obvious. Staring at the object of his desires like a lost puppy, getting so distracted he walks into pillars, the random gifts, constant invitations to nice outings...

When Asterius started developing a crush on Dia, it was after they were already friends with one another. He's not very skilled at the whole... "recognizing his own emotions" things at that point.

Imagine, if you will...

Asterius: The lady Dianthus smiled at me today.

Theseus: Hmm? Isn't that quite ordinary for her to do?

Asterius: Typically, yes. <snort>. However, today her smile caused me to feel... light-headed. Sickly. Can the dead become ill?

Theseus: ...Asterius, my friend! It sounds as if you are suffering from a terrible illness! It could be nothing other than a terrible case of love-sickness! And there is but one cure, but it is a terrifying thing... are you, dear bull, quite brave enough to take the lady out on a date?!

cherry vanilla: how does your F/O show their affection for you?

Theseus and Asterius are very different in how they show their affection... Theseus is LOUD with it! Constant compliments, praise, gifts! Dramatic posturing! Epic speeches about the depths of his great love! Sometimes to the point of being just a little bit overwhelming, but it only goes to show just how passionate he is... it's cute of him <3 Asterius is much more reserved... gentle, almost timid touches... he lkes to give compliments too, but isn't nearly as dramatic with it as Theseus is. Something slow moving and peaceful and sweet....

(I don't exactly believe in the concept for a variety of reasons, but if I had to assign them love languages, Theseus' would be gift giving + words of affirmation, and Asterius' would be acts of service)

#thank u for the ask!#💌 | a letter from hermes #👑🌺🐂 | love in idleness

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reyettaclaven · 2 months

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The prevalence of AI is so depressing, honestly.

Can I vent for a second?

I saw a post on a photo of a stupid AI-generated dinosaur-croissant saying something to the effect of, "AI won. Nothing can ever be impressive again." I've been chewing on that for a while. They're right, in a sense.

You know that dinosaur croissant isn't real, but maybe you can spend some time making something real. You do some trial and error and figure out you can make something that kind of looks like a little croissant-snail, with chocolate chips for eyes. It's lumpy, and imperfect, and the top of the shell got a little toastier than you would have liked, but you're proud of your work. You post it online. But anyone who believed the dinosaur-croissant was real can really only compare the two: your lumpy, bumpy, burnt kind-of-snail that you snapped with your phone at 10pm, to their glossy, perfectly layered and golden brown, majestic obvious-dinosaur with a pixel-perfect depth of field and the gentle glow of the morning sun shining through an interior-design-magazine's kitchen beyond.

That beautiful view you snapped a photo of while on your hike, the art you spent a week working on and years perfecting the style of, your pet with the cute marking that looks a little like a heart from the right angle, the video clip of you nailing a bottle flip into a cup that you spent hours practicing... it can be, and will be, and probably already has been, outshined by something someone made by typing ten words in a box and waiting a few seconds, that they can share with the whole world just as quickly. With AI becoming less and less visually flawed, it will be that much harder to distinguish that manufactured thing from reality, and that much easier to compare the two as though they are of the same cloth.

We all have ideas for things we think are brilliant, or clever, or worth bringing to life in some way in the moment we come up with them. How many of those ideas held enough water to make it to your thoughts again the next day, the next week? How many get real steps and effort towards coming into being? To being made into something real that can be recited, read, viewed, eaten, played, or used? In the age of AI, any of those ideas can be realized instantly with a few keystrokes. Sure, it can't make physical objects yet, but it can make poetry, and books, and things that pass as art, and things that pass as photos of physical objects. And in today's world, a picture of your finished work is worth more than the time spent making it.

Each of those fleeting ideas need not be seen to completion, because with the touch of a button, they can be artificially manufactured for a hit of instant dopamine and validation before you move to the next. You need not actually be clever. The machine will think for you. You need not practice your skills in baking, or sculpting, or painting. The machine takes the hard work out of the equation, and with it, your chance at learning such skills yourself, to use in your own life, to impress and delight the people around you.

Eventually, I feel as though we will grow tired of the novelty. AI is compared to reality, until reality stops trying to compete. Then, AI can only be compared to other AI creations. When everything is awash with impossible shapes and colors, and seeing a croissant perfectly shaped and posed like a dinosaur is no longer novel, you can't go back from that. You can't unsee that. The novelty will fade, and then where do we go?

The purpose of automation was supposed to be to make our lives easier. It was supposed to take the dirty, dangerous, and boring tasks away from us so we had more time and energy to do the things we enjoy. Crafting, painting, writing, expressing what makes us happy humans. But the AI to replace the creatives came first, and we're still waiting on the robot that will dig the ditches.

#AI generated #ai art #midjourney #dall-e #chat gpt #vent #art #gpt-4 #technology

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kellysbookblog · 2 years

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"Everything amazing about a small town romance...family, secrets, old wounds, unforgettable connections, plus the sweetest love story that had my heart soaring. An absolute must read! Addie and Beckett were magic together!"–A.L. Jackson New York Times Bestselling Author

Hidden Waters, an all-new touching and heartfelt friends to lovers, small-town romance from bestselling author Catherine Cowles, is now available!

My family tried to break me. But, somehow, I made it out alive, even though the wounds from that survival are forever carved into my bones. Now, my only wish is for…normal. To know what it’s like to have friends, a job, a home.

The last thing I want is for my new roommate to see the scars I’m so desperate to keep hidden, especially not the ruggedly handsome man who steals my breath and sends my heart into overdrive.

But something tells me that Beckett has demons, too. I see it in the shadows haunting his gorgeous eyes and the way he looks at me with gentle understanding.

As our unlikely friendship becomes so much more, forces from my life slink out of the shadows. And we could both lose everything we’ve fought so hard for—down to our very last breaths…

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Keep reading for a look inside Hidden Waters!

“You deserved so much better.”

“I’m getting it. I’m making that beautiful life now. And I’ll appreciate it so much more because of what I’ve been through.”

It wasn’t enough for me. It never would be. But I admired how Addie could view her past. I struggled not to hold her too tightly. The urge to burn the world down around me was too strong. I wasn’t good the way Addie was. I still wanted to start with Allen.

“Beckett,” she whispered against my ear. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt. The skin is ugly but—”

I reared back. “Nothing about you is ugly.”

Her cheeks flamed. “It is. It’s just facts. I don’t care. There are so many more important things.”

“Show me.” I was already climbing to my feet.

“W-what?”

“Show me.”

Addie stood shakily. “I don’t want you to see it.”

My gaze locked with hers. I poured everything I was feeling into that one look. “Please.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, searching my face for something. Then she nodded and turned around. Slowly, so painfully slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. When she was done, she simply stood there, not lowering the shirt. Her ribs expanded and contracted in ragged breaths. Then she let the fabric fall to the floor.

Angry slashes crisscrossed her back. They were varying tones, shapes, and depths. In that moment, I knew Allen had done this to her over and over. My hands fisted so tightly I was in danger of breaking a knuckle.

I moved closer and then sank to my knees again. “It’s just me.” My hands went to Addie’s hips. She gave a slight jolt. I stilled. “You okay?” She nodded, the movement jerky, her breaths ragged. I slowly swept my thumb across a patch of raised skin. Then I bent forward, my lips going to the worst of the scars. I ghosted them over the flesh that had been torn apart but had come back together stronger than it had been before.

“Beauty in the strength that carried you through. Beauty in how you refused to be broken. Beauty that you never let yourself become cruel like him. Addie, there isn’t a thing about you that isn’t beautiful.”

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3L4ZOeJ

About Catherine Cowles

Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.

Connect with Catherine

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IEQXSw

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Website: https://www.catherinecowles.com/

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merakiui · 2 years

Note

hnggggggg im having thoughts about ursula scaramouche just fucking me until im nothing but mindless and obedient doll for him to use ❤️

You get it, anon! <3

(cw: yandere, nsfw, overstimulation, dub-con/non-con, tentacles, breath play, somnophilia)

Ursula!Scaramouche who drags you through the sand and shallow waters of the shoreline, hellbent on pulling you back down to the depths of the dark ocean where you rightfully belong. You still have your legs and you’re fighting against his tentacles that latch onto your ankles and waist and yank you closer and closer towards the hungry sea. It’s obvious that you’re no match for Scaramouche and his monstrous strength. Even as a human with legs kicking out and body thrashing, he still manages to hold you tightly.

He’s going on about how he fulfilled his end of the deal and, now that you’ve failed to reach your goal, it’s your turn to fulfill your end of the deal. He won’t listen to your pleas for more time; begging won’t get you anywhere. You had your chance and you blew it.

Since you’re being so difficult, he might as well take you right here, right now, in the shallows of the beach. Wouldn’t it be quite embarrassing if your beloved prince happened to stroll by and catch a glimpse of the scene laid out before him? What would he think of you then?

Scaramouche will have his tentacles coiled around every accessible part of your body, tearing at your clothes to expose your nudity for his hungry eyes. The suctions on his tentacles will latch onto your nipples and sex, toying with both to get you properly worked up. You can try to muffle your cute sounds all you want, but he’ll still hear them. And if you’re too busy sobbing and trying to yell for help? He’ll shove a thick, slimy tentacle down your throat to keep you quiet.

What’s so good about having legs anyways? You’re better off with a beautiful, shiny tail. Surely that’s enough? But you’re awfully greedy, aren’t you? Wanting the best of both worlds, you’ll easily sign yourself away if it means you can experience a few days above the surface. And it’s all because of some love you’re chasing—a love that will never be now that you belong to Scaramouche. :)

He’ll have you sobbing from overstimulation, so much so that you’ll only be able to think of him and how good he’s making you feel rather than those useless thoughts of escape. Maybe you wanted this all along. Maybe you went out of your way to avoid kissing your prince all so that you could end up with him and his tentacles that stuff all available holes and keep you filled so nicely.

Scaramouche likes seeing you fall apart under him, back arched and eyes rolling back into your head as your toes and fingers curl. He’s wrung so many orgasms out of you that you’ve lost count, reduced to a mess of a mer-turned-human who shivers and flinches are every touch. He’s a little cruel when he wraps one tentacle around your neck and shoves your face into the shallows, forcing you into the gritty sand and cold water. It takes your breath away for a split second and you sputter on your own gasp before he’s pulling you back up. The next time he holds you down will be longer. It’s dangerous to do such a thing when you’re already so accustomed to living as a human, but he can’t help it. Besides, you seem to enjoy it, what with how you squeeze him so deliciously whenever he forces you under the water.

And when you can’t take anymore of the mind-numbing pleasure and, much to his displeasure, pass out from exhaustion, he’ll continue fucking you. Who said you could get out of this by passing out? He certainly didn’t give you permission to sleep. Scaramouche marks every inch of you as if you’re his personal canvas, biting and scratching at your skin with pointed fangs and sharpened nails. Your body is so limp and pliant it’s almost adorable. At some point, he’ll grow bored of only using his tentacles and he’ll want to actually fuck you. It’s a shame you’re not conscious to feel his cock as it slips in with ease and stirs up your insides even more.

By the time you do regain consciousness, your legs and any other human features have disappeared and you’re back to how you were before: a mer hopelessly in love with a human from the surface, now trapped in the underwater cave Scaramouche dwells in.

#meraki thirsts #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: breath play #tw: somnophilia #yandere #yandere scaramouche #the little mer darling

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undead-merman · 3 years

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Heyo! I loved your headcanons for the brothers and Simeon as sirens, they were a truly *chef kiss*. Can we also have siren Barbatos and Diavolo? Yandere too and sfw, please!

Thanks in advance!

I'm always down to write Aquatic monsters.

🧜‍♂️Siren Diavolo and Barbatos🧜‍♂️ as a yanderes GN- reader SFW

Diavolo

Appearance

Diavolo is much, much larger than other sirens. While sirens grow to be about a foot or two bigger than humans, Diavolo is massive, fifteen feet long and with tons of bulk and muscle to match his massive size. He looks more similar in size to a giant than a siren.

Despite his size he is dazzling in the sun. When his crimson hair catches beams of light he looks divine, almost like a holy glow surrounds him as he rests on the rocks. His tail is the same stunning red as the blood red sunset and has a bright pearlescent. His scales are just as reflective and polished as a bright red sports car. His skin is deeply kissed by the sun, making his skin look smooth and shiny. His nightshade red fins are long and butterfly shaped; they trail slightly behind him like silk.

He wears all kinds of jewels and golds, all of them perfectly fit around his skull and fins. They drift perfectly around his large frame and glimmer even in the smallest amount of light.

Diavolo is the only siren able to keep his glamor up even if he’s excited, in the water, or even angry. He has full control over it and only shifts to it when he’s actively trying to strike fear into something or someone. His true form is like that of sea monsters in folktales, monstrous in size and able to take a ship down into the dark depths of the open ocean, to swallow whole crews, and create winds and storms as he lets out a devilish scream which can be heard for hundreds of miles around.

Royalty amongst Loners and Sunken Hideaway

Despite their lone lifestyles, only really enjoying the company of their mates, most Sirens look to Diavolo as more of a god than any type of king or prince despite having the title of prince. They worship his power and bow down to his whims and needs. They bring him tributes in the form of small treasures and Diavolo returns these gifts with blessings of more intoxicating songs, stronger wills, his watchful eye and protection, or just overall greater strength. Diavolo seems to freely give these boons no matter how small the gift.

Since he’s a well known and well visited siren, he’s built his home in the sunken ruins of a castle in a city whose culture and history has died long ago. It’s well taken care of by servants who have pledged their lives to Prince Diavolo and are surprisingly pleasant and tolerable with one another. They equate this to Diavolo’s power and grace but only those who are truly loyal to Diavolo stay here.

His voice can bring either madness or blessings and can be the most beautiful thing your ears could ever hope to hear or one so evil, devious, and grotesque you’re driven into a hypnotic bloodlust to those with even the strongest wills. His lullabies sound so melancholic.

He hides away in a large garden which has its own open air biosphere bathed in light by a glass ceiling which has yet to crack yet bathes the whole garden in a beautiful light. A single golden curly willow grows in the center with dozens of flowers growing around it. Here the air is surprisingly fresh and floats on the surface never touching the water around it like it’s a time capsule. He’ll lounge here to clear his head watching the butterflies that have grown here, alone and have never seen the outside.

Spending time with you

You and only you heard his song and wept. The feelings of his loneliness tugged at your heart instead of your head being filled with euphoric thoughts of power and blessings or instantly pounding through your skull until you screamed. You truly heard his song, understood the lyrics behind them and felt the way he did when he sang them. When he saw your face littered with tears and face hot with sympathy for him he felt his whole body go numb. You were something special, someone truly remarkable. He needed to know more about you.

And so started a passion in his heart to learn everything about you, your traditions, your light quirks, your hobbies and everything he could possibly learn. It sent him down a rabbit hole of studying humans that he refused to climb out of and gladly let swallow him if it just allowed him to get closer to you and understand you better.

He doesn’t mind what form you see him in, as long as he can see you he’s thrilled and happy. He’ll approach you like a dog, his tail swishing excitedly as he asks you questions he formed in his head from the day. He has to be careful in his true form otherwise he can cause a lot of damage to the nearby area and draw too much attention to you two.

He loves to pick you up and hold you, be in his true form or not and travel with you on his back, or when his true form shows in his hands or on his head as he intentionally kicks up some water to playfully mist you. Moments like these make him forget he was ever even alone to begin with.

If you ever wanted to see some kind of sea creature or visit some island he’s happy to oblige bringing the creature over with his divine rule over the ocean or happily just takes you there one day while making you cover your eyes to surprise you. The look on your face makes his heart swell so much he almost feels like it will jump out of his mouth if he’s not careful.

Dark Tendencies

Diavolo isn’t against using others to get what he wants, he'll ruin everything for anyone or anything to get what he wants. He’ll destroy small islands and wipe out ports so nothing can distract you from dates he takes you on.

If he feels like you aren’t close enough to him or are drifting away from him, for some reason or another, he’s simply going to just pluck you away from your old life so you don’t have any excuse to be away from him anymore. You're his now, you don’t have to worry about that silly stuff anymore, both of you can be together now. Why not just get married now? It would be much easier. Siren’s don’t marry, they just pick a mate but he’s willing to put the frills on it for you and your human ways. He finds it cute!

He doesn’t ever connect the dots if you struggle against him or plead for him to let you go, he’s wrapped up in his own delusions of you being a happy little couple that he’ll blame some outside force. If you go along with him he’ll remain peaceful and sweet.

He absolutely hates it when other sirens see you and while he’s not outwardly violent to them he is quite hostile. Grinding his teeth and asking them to look away from you while his tail twitches with the intent to lash out.

He gave you your own little haven to decorate, he gave you the garden all for your own. He even made sure to promise to give you your own space and privacy here, just as long as you come to his call. Don’t worry though, only you, him, and Barbatos know of this place, and you can’t run from him here!

Misc stuff

His scales shed infrequently since he doesn’t get into fights with other sirens since all of them know better. His scales are radiating with his power and are well known to bring massive good luck to all those Diavolo gives them to. He’s always giving you things made from his scales and he’s so thrilled to see you in them. He likes adding them to a circlet crown he had made custom just for you so you can match him. He plans on matching you to him with every little piece of jewelry, even down to matching rings.

He requires you to sleep with him. He can sleep out of the water perfectly fine and just pulls you into a lavish den he made for the two of you. It’s somehow unbelievably cozy sleeping with him. His body is warm and everything he set up is the best out there. He just holds you in his warm arms and nods off with you.

He’s quite a picky eater. He refuses to eat anything he doesn’t like and will only eat it if you so happen to beg him to, but only if you're insistent, otherwise he’s already slowly drifting away from it.

Barbatos

Appearance

For a siren he’s smaller than most. He’s quite slender and not much muscle to him, but despite his size, his appearance is perfect in every way, not a hair out of position, not a scale that isn’t out of polished or asymmetric, and his skin without a blemish or scar to be found. He takes a huge amount of time to groom himself perfectly.

His scales more resemble sea snakes, even having black stripes like them, though his tail is a solid dark seafoam green. He’s not especially radiant compared to others, but he doesn’t mind at all, he prefers to melt into the background more.

His tailfin is wide though, having a lyretail shape with black stripes going across it. It’s the same dark color as his scales and he has only two side fins but they look like long ribbons stretching from his hips to about halfway down his tail.

His glamor when melted away leaves behind an even darker looking creature. He looks like a stormy sea and is covered in nasty sharp thorns that don’t just stop at his elbows but lead down to his hips and thin yet long and sharp claws and stark black webbing in between without a tear or hole.

Serving Another

Serving the Royal Family was an honor his family was born with for generations and one he realizes the importance to. Diavolo is powerful enough to sink ships and cities and he provided some of that power and grace onto him rewarding him and his ancestors before him for loyalty, slowly turning Barbatos’s family into nearly just as powerful creatures as him.

He enjoys watching the whims of a child like god try to make sense of a kingdom, it's good fun to see him enjoying his life he is able to live vicariously through his high energy.

He puts his all into everything he does, he hates wasted efforts so he does everything he can into what he does but it gets tiring. Sometimes when trying to sleep, he finds himself unable. He’s always had poor sleep but he’s dealt with it for so long now that it's normal for him now. He starts his morning eating a small slice of kelp known for reducing head pain, all while preparing for the morning.

Spending time with you

If Diavolo took an interest in a human then you certainly had to be interesting. Well when he met you and saw you drinking tea with a huge Diavolo stretched around the floating garden. He just knew you were a human with a soul like no other.

He often brings you your favorite beverages and chats with you, simply at first to get to know you but he found you captivating, each word you spoke he held onto like it was the last he would ever hear and it was gospel. He smiles as you recall old memories, describing how you ended up here. The way you phrased things was unlike anything he had ever heard.

He’s taken the time to find old waterlogged books that were left abandoned in the old library and help restore them for you to read. Inside you find wondrous and fantastical stories of this old kingdom all of them enthralling, and as you read he’s happy to bring you a beverage once more and enjoy your company even if it’s in silence.

Once he’s grown closer with you he often finds himself giving you lingering touches as he pats your shoulder for your attention or grazes his hand on yours when delivering food to you. He even says the most romantic and poetic things to you without even noticing. He falls in love slowly but deeply and almost innocently. He just treasures your time and you as a person, never judging or doubting you.

There was a day when he had pulled you into a parting hug, wishing you a goodnight as Diavolo would return you to the surface but he had simply fallen asleep in your arms. Even Diavolo was shocked as he had never done anything close to something like this. It turns out Barbatos is at the most ease when he’s with you. All of his sleepless nights had just suddenly caught up with him.

Dark Tendencies

His love quickly shifts one day when he see your finger pricked by a stray thorn from a wild flower and as he wiped up the blood with a handkerchief and sees those butterflies fluttering around the wound to drink the blood he realised just how fragile you really were and how nature and life take advantage of that as soon as it could. He couldn’t take losing you. So one day he calls you and just takes you. You think it's just another visit with Baratos fetching you but he takes you to a deep and dark underground cave. Soft phosphorus moss grows all over in cushioned patches and with every step it glows brighter under your feet.

He explains it all to you, openly and honestly but no matter how you plead or try to reason with you, he believes you need to be down here forever. Away from the outside world that would care so little for the death of you and move on like nothing were to happen. He wanted you safe, around and immortalized; he'll never forget you.

He provides you with an array of pleasantries that would have no chance of harming you. He’s damn near baby proofed the small cave but he ensures it's as comfortable as it can be, bringing you three meals a day, all of your favorite drinks and snacks even if you fight him or give him the silent treatment he’s never neglectful of your needs. He believes one day you’ll come to see how much he did for you and understand he just wants you safe.

Misc stuff

He’s a clean freak and refuses to let you sleep on dirt or muck, he’ll thoroughly wash the moss through and treat it so it feels like you're walking on clouds without feeling any slime, having bugs, or being dirty. It's so well taken care of that they look fake.

He hates crabs. He hates those distasteful bottom feeders, their disgusting pinchers and empty eyes. He’s sure to keep them as far away as he can, if startled by one he slams it with his tail with enough force to turn it into little pieces and he’s still frightened by them despite the power difference.

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me monster headcanons #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #yandere diavolo #yandere barbatos

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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

Text

Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

#bnha mermay #mermaid au #siren!shinsou #mermaid!hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bnha reader insert #reader insert #trident tale

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

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Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

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You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3

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