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https-florals · 3 days

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daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.

summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness

author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)

JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.

“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck.

“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.

John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.”

JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.

“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside.

“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.

You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!”

A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three).

“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it.

HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.

You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing.

It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.

You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.

You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.

“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”

You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that.

After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.

“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”

He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”

You sigh. “ ‘Kay,”

He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water.

“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line.

You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”

“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.

You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”

JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”

He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”

You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.

daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…

One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.

No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.

He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”

The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”

He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp.

“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”

He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”

You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.

“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support.

The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”

He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.

Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds.

“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.

“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.

“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.

“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it.

You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”

“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”

Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.

He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands.

“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.

You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger.

It’s probably his favorite possession.

He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.

“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand.

“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.

“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.

The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue.

You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his.

“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.

“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash.

“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.

“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand.

“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine.

He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”

There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.

JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head.

He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut

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riniworld · 2 days

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heart stealer

yandere! crown prince x maid! reader

warning|| mention of an injury+blood, humiliating(not to reader),i guess that's it?

reference|| you,she/her,y/n(one time),maid.

a/n|| i planed on making it longer but i lost motivation to complete it (╯︵╰,)

you've been raised in this castle,your parents were servants under the royal family,your father was the head butler but your mother was an ordinary maid.

and you inherited this from them,at age 18,after a year from the death of the emperor and his wife,you became a maid working along side with your mother.

month after month you have been chosen by the court to become the personal maid of the crown prince himself.

you don't know if you should be excited or anxious,you've never meet the crown prince but you did hear a few things about him and it wasn't pleasing at all.

plus,it will be more work for you by this time as the royal coronation ceremony is close.

standing nervously outside the crown prince's room,you inhale a deep breath as you knock on the door,after two minute a "come in" was heard from the inside,you step inside and stand by the door waiting for him to notice you.

he was sitting on the edge of the window,his sword in his lap as he wip the blade, he glanced at you for a brief moment.

"who are you?" he asked as he return his attention to the sword.

you bow " I will be your personal maid from now on,your royal highness, i would try my very best to please you."

taron hummed in acknowledge "very well," he walked up to you and threw the sword at you "Clean it well."

"oh...ah! as you wish your highness!." you bow and run to clean it.

the next few days went the same, weird requests, trying to please him, and on above of all of that is the preparation for the royal coronation ceremony.

he wasn't interested in anything of it, not the choice of the clothes nor the food that has to be served, the food problem can easily be solved but the clothes, the accessories that all have to be his choice and you,as his personal maid, need to help him with these things but if you can't see him how can you help him??

you know he spend most of his time on the training ground, but it's forbidden for servants to go to this ground so you can't do anything but wait.

one day you stayed in his room after the work hours, you were determined to make him do what he has to.

but to your surprise he returns with an injury, you couldn't see how serious it is but you rush to his side, it was involuntary reaction (i don't know if that's true)

"your highness!,what happened?." you stops close to him but you don't dare to touch him.

taron glares at you clearly pissed "what the heck are you doing here until now?" you can hear the tireness in his voice.

"your highness,let me patch i-" "i do not like to repeat myself."

"i-i was waiting for you to return..." you back away a little in obedience.

taron heads to the bed with a groan and sits on the edge "you can go now then."

"let me patch your wound first."

"what did i say?."

"i know, but your highness...you are bleeding and it is my duty to help you.." you mumble the last part.

taron sighed "how annoying." he say under his breath.

you took this as an approval and take a closer steps to him, you sit down beside him and looks at him asking for approval to touch him, he turn to his side.

you couldn't help the faint smile that plays on your lips when he shows that side of him, he was always putting the tough face but in the few hours you got to spend with him through the days you've worked in under him you've come to know that he has a soft spot but he doesn't show it.

you hesitantly lift his clothes off and takes it to his bathroom and searched for few things that could help him until a doctor comes to him tomorrow.

finally you found alcohol and a white rag that you think it's clean. you return to him quickly putting the alcohol on the rag.

"This might sting,your highness, tell me if i hurt you."

taron scoff "you think something like that is going to hurt me?"

"oh-uh i did not mean to offense you in any way,your hi-!."

"just do your job."

you shut your mouth and begin wrapping the rag around his wound carefully, it was pretty awkward, taron didn't move nor talked, he was just looking in the space in front of him.

you couldn't help stealing glances from time to time, his body isn't that muscular, but his skill in sword is incredible, or that what you've heard.

you were lost in thought that you didn't notice your hand still laying on taron's body when you've finished.

taron moved your hands away jolting you out of your thoughts "are you done?"

your face redned in embarrassment and you stand up quickly taking a step away "i-yes, i wish you a quick recovery, now if you will excuse me, your highness."

taron nodded and you get out the room heading to the servants' suite. taron groan and lay down on the bed, putting his hand where was yours, the only thing he didn't get as an soon-to-be-emperor is affection wich you gave just now, and it's a foreign feelings to him.

the next day you make your day to the crown prince to check on him and to call a doctor, but when you entre the room you see at least eight of nurses and a doctor around him, you hurry to his side asking one of the nurses.

"what happening? is his highness okay?"

"oh miss, who are you?"

"I'm-..I'm his personal maid."

"ah very well you might give information....when did his highness get injured?."

"yesterday he came covered in blood, and i, myself,treated his injury."

"....oh no miss, so you are the one who bandaged it with this rag?" the nurse holded the rag to you.

"i am, it was clean, as i saw it."

"well, it was not, and his injury got effected."

"what?! is he okay now?!"

"i do not know what will happen after, but for now he has a high fever."

you gasped in horror, what if something happened to him?? then you'll be the killer of the only royal blood, your life will end there.

the next three days, taron didn't wake up, and you didn't leave him, yes there was always a nurse beside him, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave him, one because you need to make sure he'll stay alive for your life, and second there's just this feeling that toging you to stay by his side, so you stayed either working in the room or taking the nurse's place while they rest.

he sometimes would call names, like his brother's or some foreign names to you, but he never called his parents name,weird, is it a sin that you wanted to be one of these names?

rumors spreaded quickly within the castle, and everyone was talking about 'how the soon-to-be-emperor maid tried to kill him' you couldn't walk comfortably in the castle, everyone was giving you the nasty star and worse sometimes they talk shit to you or even hurt you, and what are you going to do to stop all that? everything scream that you tried to kill taron.

the forth day, exactly at noon, you were cleaning the desks when you heard a groan from taron, you hurried to his side thinking he got worse or uncomfortable, but when you got to his side, his eyes were opening, you didn't waste a time to call for the nurse as they were eating.

"thank god you woke up, your highness, we do not know what we would have done if you did not wake up." the nurse says as she checks on his temperature

"how many days have i been asleep?" taron asks, he closed his eyes from the sun, and you run to close the curtain.

"for three and a half now, your highness."

you can hear taron curses under his breath when he hear that, he turn his head and looked at you, raising his eyebrow as 'what are you doing here?'.

the nurse cleared their throat, and you knew where was that going to, you looked down in shame.

"your highness, this maid is the reason you are in this state, her dumb mistake to bandage your injury with a rag put you in danger." the nurse explained with a harsh tone

you started to tear up, you don't want to die nor you want taron to think bad of you, "your highness, i-i was too worried i wanted to stop the bleeding quickly i did not know it would....get to this." your voice cracked at the last sentence as you looked in taron's eyes, you know this is not an enough excuse, but how can you defend yourself in any other way? telling the truth is the only thing you can do.

taron stared intensely at you for a moment before a smile cracked his face, why is he smiling? have you said something funny?

"that's just an unbelie-"

"enough" taron cut the nurse off in annoyance,turning his his head to the selling "your yapping make my head hurt get out." you didn't quite know who he was talking to, but it was obvious wasn't it?

"well? what are you waiting for?" the nurse shouted at you.

"not her, you." taron point at the nurse

"...m-me? as you wish your highness." the nurse bow and left.

you start getting anxious, wondering why did he kept you here, are you in a problem? what a stupid question of course you are, taron isn't a forgiving person that for sure.

taron tried to sit up with a groan and you rush to his side to help him, after his sit comfortably he speak "trying to kill me, are we?." he joked.

"i swear i did not mean to,your highness!" you said quickly in fear.

taron only giggled softly, his dimple showing up, you stared mesmeraisedly at him, it was rare to see him smile or laugh that what you learned from the old servants, but to see this sight it was worth everything, "i know you would not dare do it." taron say.

"really? you believe me, your highness?!" you asked in relief.

"of course, a weak coward and naive maid like you would not even kill a fly."

"oh-at least you could have said it more kindly.." you thought. "i appreciate that you believe me, your highness." you say in happiness, after all if the soon-to-be-emperor believes you that's enough.

taron's smile fades away, did he lost himself with a mere maid? he can't believe what he's doing, you're really starting to get to him. he laid down back and cover his head with the blanket "close the curtain and get out." he ordered.

you did what he told you, despite his tone, nothing can change your mood now, before you can set your foot outside the room taron speaks again "and come tomorrow by the evening to complete the preparation for the ceremony.", your face lit up "gladly!" you say a bit loud.

"she is adorable." taron thought as you made your way out

you were heading to your mother to tell her that you've finally made the heir prince do what he has to.

the next morning you were too excited to prepare for the ceremony with taron that no one could change your happy mood not even the shitty talk around and about you.

you were heading to taron's room holding breakfast for him when suddenly a maid stopped you, she looks old.

"is that for his royal highness?" she asks firmly.

you nod "it is."

"get it back to the kitchen, no one can trust what you have put in it." she demanded like she's your boss.

"what? are you implying that i poisoned it?" you start to get angry, that's starting to get too much.

"you are not trustworthy, i do not know why the curt kept you untill now."

"that just prove that they see me more trusting than anyone here, even than the old ones!" you raised your voice a bit.

"you already tried to get rid of his royal highness once."

"that-! i did not-..." your voice trail on the end, what will you say? no one will believe you.

"now take it back to the kitchen if you may." she said coldly

you lower your head and went back to the kitchen putting the breakfast on the table frustrating, you've had enough of all of this, should you tell taron about that? maybe he'll help you...

other maids has cooked a new break and escort you to taron's room so they'll make sure your wouldn't "put something in it".

taron noticed your fallen face when you put his breakfast, you usually have a smile on your face whenever you're around him, you start rambling around in the room, getting outfits ready or organizing things in the room, taron couldn't help glancing in your direction ever so often, you just seemed...off?.

"what got into you? why do you even care? focus taron! " taron thought with himself,his eyes darting to you again "....there is no wrong in asking though, i have the right to do."

with that he grabbed your wrist when you walked closer to his reach "what is with you?" he sounded angry rather than concerning "i did not want it to sound like that! "

you hesitated to tell him about what happened earlier "no it is noth-" you cut yourself off, why would you cover their act up? if the crown prince himself is asking what is wrong, you should take this to your advantage "...your highness...the servants and the maids are treating me badly, they call me...names, and earlier before i bring the breakfast to you, one of the old maid stopped me and she forced me to go throw the food that i made.." you explained.

taron didn't say a thing but you could feel his grip on your wrist tighten, a second later taron was dragging you along with him heading to the hall, he stopped by your father, the head butler and told him to announce that he want every single servant and maid to come to the main hall, your father looked at you worriedly, you shrugged mouthing "i don not know" he seems to relax a bit when he sees that you're not scared or seem in trouble, your father bow in respect and went to do what taron told him.

taron dragged you to the main hall, where the throne was he climbed near it, and tugged on you to get up there with him, but you refused you couldn't just go near the throne could you?

"your highness, i do not think this is a proper thing to do!"

"you are going to teach me what is proper and what is not?" he says a bit mockingly.

"no..that is not what i meant.." you mutter.

taron sigh and roll his eyes before he pulls you over to him, you stumble into him and he wrap his hand around your shoulders, you tried to get away a little bit but taron squeezed your shoulder when he felt you slip, for a moment he only star at you before he exhale sharply and say something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch then he let go of you and sit on his throne.

before you can ask anything the room start to be filled with the servants, you catch your mother eyes looking at you worriedly, you smile at her in reassure.

taron clear his throat to get everyone's attention.

"..I have heard...there is someone who have been harassing my maid." he pauseed for a second, "do you all have a problem with her?" he suddenly took your hand and put it near his lips as he looked at you "Because from my side, I don't mind if she is the one who wants to kill me." you were so in shock to respond or do anything, taron then looked at the crowd without letting your hand "do you have something to say?" when no one said anything taron continue "If I hear that anyone bothered her again, they will meet the blade of my sword....everyone may leave now but the maids that on the kitchen."

the crowd start to leave,leaving the ones who work in the kitchen and the woman tha- "tell me who bothered you earlier." taron demanded

"...your highness it is not necessary anymore-" "did i stutter? tell me who is she."

you pointed hesitantly at the woman and she looked at you with wide eyes filled with fear, the next thing you knew, taron made her apologize on her knees in front of you.

what have you got yourself into?

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot

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luvj4key · 3 days

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⋆⭒˚｡⋆ nct dream would be the type of boyfriends that would...

○ pairing: bf!dream x gn!reader ○ genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanons ○ warnings: LOTS of fluff, the dreamies being soft for reader, affection, crying in jisung's part ○ luvj4key's note: hi loves! so this is actually a rewrite of one of my works from my old account (minilinooo) this will be one of many rewrites coming soon since it has been a while since i've starting writing. anyways i hope you all enjoy <3

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ mark is the type of boyfriend that would...

laugh at everything you say and do

cherish every moment you spend together whether that’d be if you’re doing nothing or something

do everything in his power to make sure you know that he loves you

text you “i love you” at least once each day

get lost in your eyes when you’re talking to him and when you ask him what’s wrong he’d just smile at you

pinch your cheeks because he claims that you’re too cute

call you cute every second

enjoy late night talks with you

want a private yet not secret relationship

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ renjun is the type of boyfriend that would...

have such a soft spot with you

have matching jewelry with you

give you princess treatment

play with your hair

love giving you back hugs whenever you’re doing something

scold you if you’re not taking care of yourself

have karaoke nights with you

be protective over you but tries to be lowkey about it

be a sucker for cheek kisses

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jeno is the type of boyfriend that would...

try to have a strong exterior but would absolutely soften up if you’re mentioned or in his presence

always feel the need to be next to you

always look out for you when you’re in the same room but is doing something else

love holding your hand

buy you flowers

love taking you out on dates

putting his hand on your thighs just because

love it when you’re the one that initiates

get all shy if someone points out how whipped he is for you

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ haechan is the type of boyfriend that would...

always find something to do with you

always have to be touching you in some way

get so happy whenever you agree to game with him

come to you first whenever he’s struggling with something, he trusts you with everything

kiss your hand whenever he’s holding it

always be there if you need someone to talk to

love to joke around with you

defend you like his whole life depends on it, he’s never letting anyone trash talk you

be your number one fan

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jaemin is the type of boyfriend that would...

never raise his voice at you

prioritize you. if you need him, he’ll be there in a heartbeat

love to spoil you

look at you with so much love in his eyes

always always take care of you

always think about you

make it very known that he’s in a relationship

have a photo album of pictures he took of you with his camera

texts you long paragraphs saying how much he loves and appreciates you

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ chenle is the type of boyfriend that would...

brag about you to his members

love joking around with you

absolutely crack up whenever you’re being silly. you never fail to make him laugh

lowkey be possessive over you (in a non-toxic way)

surprise you with random gifts saying that it reminded him of you

refer to you as daegal’s mom

spend you silly pictures of him or of random stuff throughout the day

get mad if someone made of fun you because only he can

give you head pats

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ jisung is the type of boyfriend that would...

listen and pay attention to everything you say and do

be an absolute softie around you

love to do couple coordinated outfits

bring you to late night practice sessions to show you the choreography he’s working on

want to make some choreo with you and you only

get all shy when you praise and compliment him

cry when you cry

love your affection but would sometimes be too shy to ask for it

fidget around and play with either your clothes or your fingers

©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost

#₊˚ෆ luvj4key's collection: dream #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream soft hours #nct dream scenarios #nct fluff #nct soft hours #nct scenarios #nct headcanons #mark lee imagines #renjun imagines #jeno imagines #haechan imagines #jaemin imagines #chenle imagines #jisung imagines

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goteique · 1 day

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are we still friends? + (ren kaji, hayate suo, umemiye hajime, sakura haruka)

cws. | gn!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, sorta character study, fluff, angst, comfort. | redirect to blog navigation.

syn. | How do they react to confession when the feelings are mutual?

notes. | Will there be part two? who knows? but for now please have these. I forgot how to write smut so I'm writing fluff.

☆ Ren Kaji: Ren does not like talking or listening so he pretends that he can not hear and with his headphones on it's easier to convince but when you specifically ask him to take it off so that you could talk it annoys him. He rarely takes his headphones off since it was a gift from someone. So all he does is to take the lollipop out of his mouth and say, "You can talk. I am not listening to anything," It really irritates you but you do not wish to act on it right now. He has started to grow a little too comfortable with your presence around him and maybe. . .just maybe it's time to create a ripple in his stagnant heart. At the rooftop of the school, where gentle breeze and sunlight prevails you say you like him and watch his eyes go bigger. He takes off his headphones with utmost haste demanding, "Say that again," but now it is your turn to annoy him. All your comebacks are full of: "no." , "Did you not listen when i said once?" , "This is why i told you to take your headphones off," and so on. You are so engrossed in conversing with him that you fail to notice his swift motion of leaning and planting a kiss on your cheek. Your lips cease to move for a while yet it is ever so quick and swift that it happens within a blink of your eyes. "Okay, I'll say it for you then," Ren says. Gulping and continuing, "Y/n likes Ren Kaji. and I like you too." in one breath and just vanishes out of your sight. The next few days he is spotted sleeping at unusual times because he has spent sleepless nights regretting why he did not take his headphones off.

★ Hayate Suo: Suo has known for a while that you like him. Well, he is not too sure but he always had a pretty good idea when it comes to emotions. He has probably known even before you that you could harbor feelings for him so when he hears the rumors from other students he does not react much except with some snarky comments to shut those rumors with his sickly sweet saccharine smile. But hearing it from you, at some secluded place near the bike stand of the school is certainly is out of the syllabus for him. At first, he does not know what to say, what to do, or how to react but when your eyes slowly look up to meet him the first thing he thinks if you did it because of rumors or some sort of dare. If so, then both are wrong. He thinks confession should come when it's time not when it is influenced by others. So, all he says is: "I know." eyes blinking a little too much, unable to consider you as his focal point. " I've known for a while." And then, he asks for some time to think about it which is unexpected because from what you have heard he has rejected every other proposal that came his way. You came prepared to be rejected when you decided to confess but this goes out of the syllabus for you too. So, you end up thinking if this is his new way of tormenting people who like him but he really needs time to properly think because he thought there is no way he thought you would like him back. He does not want to hurt you. That goes against his morals. He could feel his cheeks being warm, ears too, palms tucked behind his back cold, and rapid heart rate. "So, this is how it feels to be confessed."

☆ Umemiya Hajime: Being an older brother to everyone has never been a bother until he developed a gut wrenching crush on you or that is how he would like to put it. Not only that, you have developed quite a friendship with Kotoha ever since you started helping her out in her resturant. You are probabaly same age as her which makes things a little more complicated. Was it not enough that you might be under the impression that Kotoha is his girlfriend? Like most other people; But thanks to Sakura for clearing that confusion up. Still. . .still he feels his heart twist whenever he visits the resturant. All he does is to silently watch you. He could have easily creeped you out if you had not developed a crush on him. When Umemiya's visits became you became a little bold, like talking to him, asking about his day, exchanging numbers but never have been alone with him. He always comes with his band of boys. It denifitely nice to hear him laugh, talk and sometimes steal sneaky glances but it does not help with the wave of emotions he makes you feel. So, one day when the door bell chimed and as usual you said, "Welcome" looking in the direction of entrance ceasing your chores all you could do is stare for a moment since the customer is none other than Umemiya Hajime and he is all alone. So, you repeat again, "Welcome Umemiya-san." tearing your gaze away from him. "Kotoha is busy. Should I let her know that - he cuts you off with," i'm not here for her today." sipping water ever so slowly from the glass you just served on the coaster. Is he nuts? is he really doing this? Right now? why is he not freaking out? or maybe he is, internally, just like you. "I'm here for you today." And, when he confirms you turn around to get a proper look.

"I see," you say.

"You didn't answer my call so i had to come here," Umemiya remarks.

"so, you are here to scold me?" Umemiya's heart drops in some bottomless pit. He did not mean it to come out this harshly. He is just tensed, especilly after how you texted last night : "I like you Umemiya-san."

"did you check your phone after last night?" and to that you just nod. You do not want to and who honestly would after confessing to the brightest star. You are so out of league from him. Umemiya smiles. "I see," he speak softly. He gets up and then he is about to leave but just before exting the door he says, "Please, check you phone."

★ Sakura Haruka: Sakura has a habit of talking, and going on and on about it unless someone interrupts. If possible, he would talk in one breath. So, when you say that you like him he dismisses it as a joke. "quit kidding. Nobody likes me. y'know that. . ." And there goes your probably hundred-and-fifth confession. He never takes it seriously no matter how serious you try to be Sakura manages to bungle up your intentions so quick yet you can not seem to blame him. If anything he is too honest, so often he comes as rude and obnoxious but his intentions are so pure that sometimes it makes you think can a person be this stupid? But this time when you confessed you thought this would go in the usual direction; him dismissing it as a joke but this time when he looks at you he is faced with something new, something he is not good at handling. "you. . . are you crying?" And it dawns on you how heavy your heart has become with his oblivious nature. all those "I like you-s." never reached his heart, only his head. You quickly wipe away your tears and try to cover it up with the most brilliant lie ever to exist. "It's just dirt." given his oblivious nature he is supposed to buy but he is asking questions again. "You. . . all these time. . . were serious?" Yes, you absolute dimwit. You can not even nod to confirm his thinking. You swallow hard trembling lips parting to speak and you are met with his chest with his arms wrapped around you. " I-I ... was told that if you like someone...you can hug them... y'know when they ...say they ...like you," he starts to stammer and it creates a swarm of laughter arises from your stomach. "Whoever told you that must know a lot about dating," you say having a fair idea who it might be.

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buriedpair · 3 days

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How would all the yanderes react to a shy darling working at the casino as wait staff who attempts to keep their distance only working to pay off a debt the innocent type like a frightened kitten or bunny

You got it! Sorry for posting so much followers, I love my guys so much. I have a Gambit post incoming after this!!!

Yandere!OCS x GN Reader

Amias

He's had you as his server a few times. Admittedly, you never spoke much and got nervous easily, but he enjoys your company. It's a nice change from the other over dramatic fucks working in this damn place.

That's how he finds himself requesting you to his confused waiter one day, and then the next. Eventually, everyone just assumes he wants you as his server when he walks in. He starts ordering drinks more frequently to try and make you open up. It's just too endearing, how you avoid his questions and avert your gaze and whatnot.

You, on the other hand, are alarmed. You've never had a regular before. You immediately try to get out of it. Every day he asks for you, you're miraculously missing, busy, or on break.

It doesn't frustrate Amias in the slightest. When he's told that you're not there, he simply gets up to look for you.

No doubt, he WILL find you.

"So afraid all the time... Rightfully. You should be."

Edge

As a dealer, he doesn't get to move from his spot much. You've been formally introduced to each other before, but he's never cared much. You're not interesting to him.

On one of his late-night shifts, he notices you're still there. But... weren't you there when he came in? On his next break, he asks you about it. He doesn't seem concerned, just curious. Hesitantly, you explain that you had to pick up someone else's shift because you needed the cash. You try to explain that it's definitely not like you're in crippling debt right now, and you're totally fine.

He finds this curious. He's no doubt had to pick up shifts before in his life, but he finds it endearing how insistent you are that you're fine. When he pokes further into it, he ends up with all the information he needs.

You're such a meek little thing, he wonders how easily you'd break under his thumb.

Time passes, and he slowly starts to nudge and press against your insecurities. It's like your melting into a pool of "what the fuck" and being rebuilt over and over again. He supports you financially for a while, and you're forced to stay at his side for as long as he wants you to. Which is to say, until you're boring again.

"Love, ownership... Are they not the same?"

Double Down

He thinks you're just ADORABLE. He finds time to flirt with you, even when he's busy. He'll dedicate his executions to you, he'll watch you like a hawk from where he stands... You're like his own personal pet!

It's superficial at first. He just wants to get you in his grasp long enough to entertain him. Once he's done with you, he casts you aside again. Yet, once you're gone, he finds himself waiting for you to come back.

You don't.

You realize you've been used like an object, and timidly resign to go find a better job. (Frankly, it's good for you anyways. It's hard to watch so many people bite it each day.) You're madly, deeply, truly embarrassed that you let him win.

When DD finds out you've quit, he grows furious. Why? He doesn't know. All he knows is that you left him. NOBODY leaves him. Not until he's done with them.

Rest assured that you are completely and utterly unsafe now. Poor kitten, he'll be sure to take terrible care of you.

"Leaving me is the last mistake you'll ever make, if you want to keep your cute little eyes open."

BONUS ROUND!

Jackpot and Gambit

Jackpot just oozes confidence, so naturally you stay as far away from him as you can. He's practically the exact opposite of you. Plus, looking at him makes you nervous. Additionally, Gambit is like the boss of all bosses. There's no way you could speak to him other than a small squeak every time he regards you.

They noticed you, though. How do you think you got this job? Jackpot saw you and knew he wanted you, and Gambit followed suit as soon as he saw your poor, pitiful self.

You spilled someone's drink. Fuck. You're screwed. You're dead. You're fired. You'll crawl into a hole now, thank you. The drunk customer is enraged in an instant. He stands to throw hands, and you flinch back.

The punch never lands, however. Your knight in blue, skin-tight armor has arrived. Jackpot smiles softly at the offender, as if he wasn't holding his fist in a death grip. In a deceptively sweet tone, he explains that he doesn't tolerate any sort of violence toward the staff.

Once the customer is kindly escorted out of the establishment, Jackpot finally acknowledges you. He doesn't speak, he simply pulls your shaking form into his strong embrace. Your fear is overshadowed by intense embarrassment considering the amount of clothes he's wearing. He's warm, though.

He hushes you as he holds you, stroking your hair and swaying back and fourth. You internally wonder how this man manages to show such intimacy.

You hardly notice that there's a discussion going on around you until your arm is gently taken by... Well, fuck. Your boss is here. You're definitely fired.

Gambit chuckles in acknowledgement of your nerves, shaking his head. He doesn't seem angry, more amused. He plants a kiss to the back of your hand, asking you how you're feeling. You stumble over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence in such a situation.

They both smile fondly-- Nay, possessively-- down at you. How cute, maybe now you'll learn that they're the only ones who can protect you.

"You don't need to worry, sweet thing. We'll never let anyone hurt you again."

"I'll make sure you feel much better by your next shift. You'll have to stay with us for a while. No arguments, unless you want that debt to swallow you whole."

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boy #yandere art #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #yandere x you

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mxtantrights · 23 hours

Note

i wonder if u have any headcanons abt how boxer!jason would propose to his s/o… i feel like any version of jason would keep things intimate and romantic instead of public and flashy lol

He lies this once. ONCE. he has to get you to the bookstore where the two of you met. You're not really understanding why boxer!Jason wants to get you out of your very comfortable home when it's raining outside, and it's sticky hot.

But you decide to indulge him. He never does this. He never insists that two of you have to be somewhere. Usually he's the one canceling plans. He doesn't mind not being a no show when it comes to hanging out with you.

He tells you to wear anything. Which doesn't raise your suspicions at all. He does it on purpose. If he had told you to wear something nice he knows you would have caught on. And he's still glad that your nails are still fresh from that spa time you took about a week ago.

He takes his car, and his hand is on your thigh like usual though the whole ride. You play with his hand as you watch the cars go by. You might even doze off a little bit. He finds it terribly cute.

When you do finally arrive you turn to him, and ask him if he wanted you to go shopping for books. And he hums an answers but you're still not suspicious.

He holds an umbrella over your head, letting himself get a bit wet, and guides you into the bookstore. The lights are on but there is no one inside. You can't hear the usual customers or employees.

boxer!Jason takes your hand and leads you over to the specific section he ran into you in. Of course he knows this, he's memorized the exact spot the two of you first met.

It's there that you see the led candles and the string up paper cranes and flowers. You look around in wonder before you look over at boxer!Jason.

boxer!Jason who has never been on his knees in a fight. He's loosed before but he's never lost on his knees. The only time you've seen him on his knees is when he ties your shoes, or you know those other times when you haven't got any shoes on or clothes for that matter...

So you see him on his knees now and your eyes go wide. boxer!Jason smiles as he reaches into his pocket.

"You don't know how hard it was to get you out of the house for this without making you suspicious." he jokes.

You laugh and you can feel your eye beginning to water, "Jason,"

"You already make me unbelievably and profoundly happy. I didn't expect that-I didn't expect you. But you choose me every day and I wanted to show you that I want to do the same. For the rest of my life. If you'll have me." he declares.

"Shut the fuck up!" you gasp.

boxer!Jason laughs, knowing that your'e only cursing because of how nervous you're getting. It's your reflex, he's come to understand it now. Your curse when your team loses. You cursed when you got good news.

"Is that a yes?" he asks.

"It's a hell fuckin' yes baby, oh my god!" you shout.

You run to him and basically tackle him to the ground. He breaks your fall as you pepper kisses all over his face. He laughs between every single one.

"I didn't even get to show you the ring." he says.

"You can show me later. Is there anyone in here besides us?" you ask.

You press kisses on his jawline. boxer!Jason lets out a chuckle and runs his hands down your back.

Jason shakes his head, "I rented it out."

"What about the door?" you ask.

"Locked it as we came in." he answers.

You pull away from him. Just straddling him now, a full blown lovestruck look on your face. boxer!Jason is trying his best not to turn a new shade of red.

"You're my dream come true, you know that?" you ask.

"Thank you for allowing me to find mine too." he smiles.

a/n: ANON thank you so much much much for sending this in!! it reminded me of writing the proposal for the famous!dc au for Jason. This is a bit different but still as sweet to me <33 hope you like

#dc x reader #dc blurbs #dc #Jason todd #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd x reader #boxer!jason #dc imagine

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mountainsandmayhem · 2 days

Text

Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.”

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you.

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture.

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start.

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture.

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis.

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.”

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?”

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.”

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit.

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath.

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy.

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek.

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?”

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired.

His thumbs stop their ministrations.

“Do you need to use your safe word?”

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.”

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?”

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip.

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.”

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak.

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.”

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.”

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?”

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.”

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs.

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times.

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub.

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit.

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder.

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes.

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?”

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips.

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?”

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.”

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?”

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed.

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers.

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?”

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again.

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you.

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.”

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still.

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.”

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper.

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy.

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure.

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat.

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip.

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack.

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.”

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together.

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?”

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.”

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.”

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily.

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.”

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband.

#pedro #pedrohub #pedro is daddy #zaddy pedro #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pleasure dom #pleasuredom!Marcus pike

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angelofsmalldeaath · 2 days

Note

I don’t know if your taking requests but I would love to read something about taking a bath with Andrew 🥰 anyway, I love you’re writing!!

this is genuinely the freakiest coincidence because i wrote half of this last night, wayyy before getting this request!! anon we share the same braincell

also thank you sm for reading!! i appreciate you very much 🤎🤎

cw: nudity (non-sexual), sappy and sickly sweet but at this point if you're coming here expecting anything else...idk what to tell you

“ah, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he shuts the bathroom door behind him, shuts his eyes too and sighs for a long moment.

i flick some of my bath bubbles at him and squawk in mock outrage. “i’m naked in here, you know?”

still leaning against the door, he half-opens his eyes and smirks, “that supposed to deter me, darling?”

i take him in properly then—hair slipping out of his bun, messy, unruly, like he’s ran his hands through it quite a lot today. the sleeves of his sweaters are pushed up to his elbows. ink stains his fingers, calluses litter the palm of his hands.

“there’s no way the two of us are fitting in this together,” i laugh, “we’d spill water everywhere!”

“i’ll clean it,” he protests without missing a beat. “let me in? please?”

softness creeps into his features, the kind that melts my heart until it’s nothing but a beating mess at his feet. “get in,” i smile, “i’ve got a eucalyptus bubble bath going.”

sluggishly he begins to get out of his clothes—socks at first, tossed in one corner of the bathroom, then the sweater joins the pile. i stare at him, a bit mesmerised, at his stomach and chest and arms. all that skin on display, skin that i have touched and caressed and kissed a million times. and yet i feel breathless.

a moment later, he kneels by the tub, still in his jeans, and flicks a thumb at the corner of my lips. “got a bit of drool there, baby.”

i flush, and he steals a kiss, smug and satisfied.

“don’t be evil,” i pout, “i’ll uninvite you!”

“mm-hmm, and are you capable of that?”

i roll my eyes, trying to hide the smile creeping onto my face once again. it takes him a few more seconds to pull down his jeans, his boxers, and then i slide forward and make room for him.

the regret is instant. “oh my god,” i scrunch my eyes shut as water floods the bathroom, drenching the edges of his discarded clothes. all he does is laugh—impish and full of mischief. “god you’re lucky i love you!”

“i am,” he kisses the nape of my neck once he settles behind me, “i really am.”

his skin is warm when i settle against him. he smells like he always does—his cologne, day old now, the fabric softener he’s used since long before i knew him, and something that is entirely and inexplicably him. i breathe in deep until it fills my lungs, until the smell of eucalyptus almost disappears from the room.

“how was your day?”

“honestly?” he sighs, and starts a vague soapy doodle on my thigh. “it was a lot. not quite so physically, just…emotionally. i couldn’t wait to get back home to you.”

“yeah? that bad?”

“just hard…not bad. never bad.”

i nod, and trace a vein on his arm, leaving a soapy trail behind. silence settles over us for a few moments, occasionally broken by his small sighs. it’s nice, this—being able to feel his heartbeat against my body. absently, he hums a tune, something i haven’t heard before.

“that’s new,” i lean my head against his chest, relish the vibrations of his humming travelling through my body. “is it?”

“it is. nothing concrete, just something i’ve been toying around with.”

“‘s nice, sweet.”

“you think so?” he asks and i nod. after another moment of silence, he chuckles lightly, then tightens his hold on me. “maybe i’ll use it for a song about you. that’s a nice idea, isn’t it?”

“i didn’t know there were songs about me,” i giggle, and kiss the back of his hand, once and then once again for good measure.

“there are always songs about you,” he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, kissing the spot where my pulse is quite obvious. “in my head or my notebooks or on any scraps of paper i can get my hands on. always you.”

like he so often does, he leaves me speechless—stuck between blushing and welling up—until he flicks bubbles on me and the moment dissolves away.

“we should just get takeaway,” he declares innocently, like he hasn’t left me with a lump in my throat. “i just want to be lazy with you.”

i clear my throat, shake my head. “takeaway it is. i can order while you clean the bathroom, right?” i bite my lip and keep the laugh in.

he groans, huffs on my shoulder. “god, you’re lucky i love you!”

“i am,” i kiss his knuckles softly, knowing i mean every single word of it. “i really am.”

#i really really hope you like it!! you're my first request haha and i'm nervous to post this x #requests #hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr #andrew hozier byrne x reader #hozier fluff

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k-atsukibakugou · 3 days

Text

w/c: 0.8k tw: uh i don't 100% know what this is or what it will become, this scene was just haunting me as a daydream lmao; i imagined this with bakugou but never wrote his name lmao; f!siren reader, implied yandere

"who is she?" your voice choruses inside his head before the heavy wood has even latched closed, the chorus mostly playful, the teasing curve of your lips clear you didn’t think he’d notice one in the chorus with the mean tone, insecurity and jealousy weaved into its disembodied voice, no matter how you tried to hide it with hundreds of other voices overlapping the others, the same question on repeat.

“how did you get in here?”

“how do you know you haven’t let me in before?” aloud, your voice is even more powerful, his spine straightening minutely despite the exhaustion setting in his bones. even with his muscles fighting his instincts to remain upright, he studies you lazily, his gaze trailing over your hands; holding the book on his coffee table in the same spot he held it, his thumbs in place beneath yours just hours earlier. he wonders if he’ll be able to feel you on the pages after you leave, if your fingerprint will linger like your perfume.

there’s some kind of domesticity to it, he thinks, your hands settling in the same place as his, your comfortable pose on his couch, your insatiable need to know about him, to see inside him, your need for him to engage like a schoolgirl tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. if the schoolgirl was blood thirsty.

“so, who is she?” your tone is even, your jealousy masterfully disguised by a practised playfulness, the twinkle in your eye unmistakable when you search his face for any tells for his supposed lover. you finally stand from his couch, placing the book back in the exact spot he had it, down to the millimetre (had you been here before? would he know?), leaving your jacket on the couch, the sweet scent already seeping into the fabric. you were good at that, ensuring you were always on his mind, with your perfume, with all the criminals dazedly walking into police stations holding their own wanted flyers with his name scribbled on it beside your own. gifts, you’d called them the first time he’d caught you in the act.

“has to be someone special, hm? you’ve never left me waiting before.”

your voice is just a whisper, a tiny worm wiggling its way into his nervous system, forcing his gaze to yours (he has just enough self control to steel his eyes, to keep his face indifferent as his body fought to react, to give in). staring up at him, you carefully examine his features, the way you’re reflected in his pupils that nearly swallow his iris whole, the ring of colour proof of his stubbornness, of his power to resist your compulsion.

“there is no she, i was out cleaning up your mess.”

you raise your hands in a display of innocence you don’t deserve, slinking closer to the light he sought his shelter in.

“my mess? i convinced a criminal you’ve been searching for to walk into your agency. you should be thanking me.” the worm is more the size of a caterpillar, growing evermore with the echoing chorus of your voice, the same you’d have done to the man earlier in the evening; a tauntingly slow build up of your compulsion until it had taken hold.

his voice joined yours in ordering him, his head hurting from the resistance, thank her. thank her. thank her. thank her. squeezing his eyes shut, his lips part involuntarily, his tongue straining to speak, to form the syllables you compelled him say, “i don’t need to thank you for shit.”

his back tenses, shoulder blades pinching together in the effort to resist you, a headache forming behind his eyes the longer you stared at him; pain pulsing with every ignored syllable.

he’d given in once, the first time he saw you, before he knew how to resist. before he knew how relieving it was to give in; the sound of your honeyed voice something he craved every day since, the echo of your command like a warm stream of water rushing down his spine, the weightlessness of pleasing you, every hum of approval like a hit of nicotine.

you pout, “the others are more grateful.”

your perceived inability to break him haunts you, he can tell, you itch to feel him give in, to have a man of his power under your thumb. a toy for your entertainment. he’d give it to you, he’d tell you how he craved the feeling of your hypnosis, if he knew you’d still send him your ‘gifts’, if you’d still sneak into his house just to see the flash of shock on his face, if you’d still obsess, if he knew he wasn’t just a challenge. the unbreakable man, broken.

instead, he tries his best to keep an indifferent, slightly amused, expression firmly on his face, watching you flit about his apartment like you belonged, like you weren’t more tempting than the forbidden fruit, like submitting wasn’t a worse fate than mortality. his body screamed at him the longer you stayed near, blood, muscles bones and nerves begging to rest, to get closer, to run; the need for you prospering in the dark recesses of his mind when he takes one step closer.

“i’m not like the others.”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#「mercury writes」#「kat <3」#tw: yandere #just in case #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuk x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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five-and-dimes · 9 hours

Text

Your Eyes Slay Me Suddenly

Finally get to share my fic for the Spring Exchange! I got assigned @im-not-corrupted, and it's my first time writing a knight au, but I'm really happy with how t turned out, so I hope you like it too! <3

AO3

If you had asked Sir Robert Gadling just a few years ago, he would have told you that he had no plans of settling in any kingdom. Ever since the loss of his dear Eleanor, he had found himself most content in traveling. A sword for hire making his way through the lands, throwing himself into new adventures before inevitably moving on. He escorted nobles and adventurers, he protected priceless treasures, he fought in tournaments for gold and glory, and then he carried on. Each new place brought their own unique experiences and joys, but none so great as to convince him to stay.

Then he entered the kingdom of the Endless.

He had heard rumors of the turmoil the kingdom had gone through in recent times. One of their main allies and trade partners had been brought low by their king’s death and near fatal wounding of the only prince, leaving the prince’s consort to struggle to hold the land together. The loss of protection and major imports left the Endless kingdom vulnerable, and they fell into a period of famine and darkness. However, a few years later saw one of the princes staging a coup, exiling the king and queen as well as a few other members of the royal family, taking the throne for himself.

And King Morpheus brought the realm back to prosperity.

Hob found the land intriguing in a way he hadn’t experienced before. The landscape was lush and vibrant, the kingdom built within the forest as opposed to clearing it away, and even the homes of the lower class were adorned with intricate artwork carved into the door and window frames. When he made his way into a boisterous tavern, he was greeted as though he was coming home, not a newcomer. As the ale flowed, he had tried to learn more about the history of the realm, especially the years when the crown had been taken. What he learned was that, for all the drama that a grab for power like that must have been, to those outside the palace, it had all been very quiet.

“Went to bed one night the same as ever. Next day we woke up, and there was an assembly being called,” An older man explained, leaning heavily on the table, “Standing on the balcony like some angel of death, there was King Morpheus, wearing the crown.” He shook his head, lost in the memory of his astonishment, “The King and Queen have so many kids I never could keep track of ‘em. But I coulda sworn that one was dead,�� he shrugged, taking another long swig of his ale, “Guess I was wrong.”

Curiosity thoroughly piqued, Hob was more eager than ever to join an upcoming tournament. As always he enjoyed buddying up with the kingdom’s knights, sharing tales of his travels, learning more about the land he was visiting, placing bets and engaging in friendly banter. He was excited to join the festivities, and to get a closer look at the mysterious king.

As he entered the arena, looking up to the stands, he understood why his drinking companion had called the king an angel. King Morpheus was a spot of darkness amongst the colors of the crowd. The royals and advisors sitting beside him wore rich, deep colored fabrics that shone in the sunlight, but the king himself was garbed all in black. His robes flowed around him, draping over his form and concealing his figure. His collar was buttoned up his neck all the way to his chin, and gloves covered his hands where they lay primly in his lap. Long black hair was braided elegantly and made his face look even paler, as though he had never seen the sun before. The gold circlet with ruby accents on his head was the only color Hob could make out on his figure.

He was beautiful.

Hob was never one to deny his ego, and he always aimed to impress when he competed, but on this day he forgot about the crowd. There was only one person he hoped to impress with each swing of his weapon or shot of his bow. The days of the tournament passed, and he couldn’t help but glance up up up to the King after each success, hoping desperately to be noticed. And his pride clearly paid off, because when the tournament ended, as Hob collected his winnings and made his way towards the feast, he was approached by an elegant figure. Her waistcoat was perfectly tailored and a deep purple which made her dark skin seem to glow. But her poise and demeanor gave away her station far more than the richness of her clothing. Delicate spectacles sat on the bridge of her nose, and her posture was proud and sure, looking down on Hob without seeming to look down on him.

“You performed very admirably, Sir…” she stated, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Robert Gadling,” he bowed in greeting, grinning.

“You are new to these parts, yes?”

“Aye, I am a traveler.”

“Just passing through, then?”

“Unless I am given a reason to stay.”

She gave him a reason.

The King had in fact noticed him, had been pleased by his performance, and was looking to grow the order of knights protecting the castle grounds. Though a few years had passed, he was still new enough to the throne to be vulnerable to attempts to usurp him. And he wanted Hob to join. Hob had no intention of turning down an opportunity to be closer to the dark shadow of a king.

It did not occur to him until much later that he hadn’t even needed to think about it before deciding to settle here, in the Endless Kingdom. He moved onto the castle grounds, and he kneeled before King Morpheus and swore an oath, and the king looked down at him with glittering eyes. Hob felt like a madman for all the things he wanted, but he felt a little less mad when, before the season even had a chance to change, he was selected as the King’s personal guard.

“If I may ask,” Hob could not help but inquire, standing watch as the King worked in his study, “Why me? There must be knights whom you are more familiar with.” He was one of the newest in the order, and yet it was he who stood at the king’s side.

The King barely glanced at him, continuing his elegant penmanship, “I am interested.”

“In me?” Hob felt his traitorous heart flutter.

Here, King Morpheus did look at him, something sly and mischievous in his eyes, “In your experience.” Slowly and deliberately, he put his quill down, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands in his lap, “Tell me, sir Gadling,” Hob shivered every time he heard his name on those lips, “of your travels. Tell me of your life.”

And, well. Hob would never deny a command from his king.

Although he would not deny… editing, occasionally. Never lying, of course, he wouldn’t dare. But he saw no harm in skipping the less flattering parts- the years lost to drinking his grief away, the times he tripped over his own feet learning to charge in heavy armor- and only slightly embellishing his victories. Morpheus always listened with rapt attention, as though Hob’s tales were the most interesting things he had ever heard. Perhaps, Hob considered, they were.

“It seems you have always been a capable warrior, Sir Gadling,” Morpheus smiled as he delicately ate his breakfast, Hob leaning against the wall beside him as he finished the most recent recounting of his exploits.

“Had to learn fast,” he grinned, “Some of us have to get roughed up if we want to keep you royals so soft and pretty.”

At first, he thinks he has said something wrong, because Morpheus’ head snaps up to look at him, eyes sharp and calculating. But a moment later, his body softens, like an exhale, and there is a pleased smile on his face, and Hob knows that he has said something right.

“I do not remember that part of your oath,” he says teasingly, “a vow to keep me soft and pretty.”

“It was unspoken,” Hob replies immediately, “Took one look at you and knew a delicate thing like you needed a skilled sword and shield at your side.”

“And it seems I chose well,” he sits up a little straighter, almost preening, “I trust a knight of your strength and… stature,” Hob felt his cheeks warm as Morpheus blatantly looked him up and down, “will have no trouble protecting my integrity.”

“With my life, my lord,” he gives a half bow, and when their eyes meet he is certain that something is there.

It became a regular part of their time together, after that. Time passes with Hob telling his stories, and Morpheus fluttering his eyelashes at what a rough and adventurous life he’s led, and Hob gently teasing about the soft and cushioned life he’s led. The contrast between them was exhilarating, and each time the king leaned into it was a bolt of excitement to Hob’s bloodstream. If Hob had his way, King Morpheus would never have to lift a finger. As he accompanied him through the castle, from his chambers to the throne room to the dining hall and back again, he opened every door for him with a deep bow. He would lift the king’s fork to his lips if allowed.

Morpheus does not seem to mind. For all that he is known as a stoic and cold king to those outside of the palace, each day Hob sees his little smiles, and the laughter in his eyes as Hob bends over backwards for him.

On this day, Hob thinks he might be the first knight tasked to pick blackberries for his king. Morpheus sits on a stone bench in the shade of the garden as Hob diligently fills a bowl with the ripe fruit, occasionally glancing back to see Morpheus’ warm, amused smile.

“It would be a shame to stain such finary,” he had claimed, eyes crinkling slightly in restrained mirth, turning to show off the glimmer within the fabric of his clothes.

“Oh of course,” Hob teased in return, “We wouldn’t want our precious king to get his hands dirty.” He bowed, taking the king’s gloved hand to kiss his knuckles. His skin was covered by such fine leather, he could only imagine how butter soft the skin beneath it must be.

King Morpheus smirked down at him, “You earn your keep well, my knight.”

“Anything to be kept by you,” he winked.

The only response is a silent huff of laughter, but Hob cherishes it all the same. As he stands, he holds a berry out between his fingers, “Perhaps you should test them. Make sure they are up to your standards.”

His eyelashes flutter, a coy smile on his lips as he leans forward, and Hob may have started it but he was unprepared for the feeling of his king’s mouth wrapping around his fingers, plucking the fruit from his hand before pulling back with a soft swipe of his tongue. Hob feels himself shudder as Morpheus hums in pleasure.

“Yes,” he purrs, “delightful.”

“Is that so?” Hob feels his heart beating wildly in his chest, but he feels confident and daring as he leans in closer, “Perhaps I should get a taste myself.” He thinks that no fruit on earth would compare to being able to lick the taste from Morpheus’ lips.

But he will never know if he is right. Before he has a chance, he lays his hand on Morpheus’ waist, only to have his wrist gripped tightly and torn away.

“Do not-” The hissed words are cut off so abruptly that Hob can hear the click of Morpheus’ teeth as his mouth snaps shut. His eyes are steely, stepping back to put himself out of Hob’s reach. It is so far and away from any interaction they have had before that Hob feels as though he has whiplash.

There is a moment's pause where Morpheus seems to be waiting for him to speak, and it is only then that Hob remembers their respective ranks, “I apologize, my liege,” he bows deeply, the formality feeling wrong. This is not who they are to each other. Or so he thought.

He glances up just in time to catch the way Morpheus’ throat bobs as he swallows thickly, “I have been away from my work long enough. Deliver what you have harvested to the kitchens and then rejoin me in my study.” He leaves no room for a response, turning on his heels and stalking away, heedless of the fact that they are not meant to be separated this way. Hob’s job is to watch over him. But, after watching his king’s back disappear back into the castle, he does as he is told.

His thoughts are a storm as he passes the fruit off to the kitchen staff, dragging his feet to delay his return to Morpheus’ side. King Morpheus has always been vocal about fighting tradition- about making a better realm, even if it meant going against the “old ways”- and Hob had, foolishly perhaps, assumed that meant that Morpheus would not be against marrying outside his station.

Apparently he was wrong.

Arriving outside the study door, Hob feels his heart burn. With rejection, yes, and grief, certainly, but also with anger. Anger at the king’s hypocrisy, his arrogance and conceit, to think so lowly of Hob as to toy with his feelings and then snub his touch. As though Hob’s hands would somehow taint his royal figure.

Well, Hob refused to be ashamed. He was proud of his rank and status, he was proud of his life, and no man or king would make him feel lesser. So when he walked into the room, he held his head high, and kept his eyes cold.

Morpheus glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but did not say anything.

The weeks following are tense. At first, Morpheus seemed to try to restart their flirtatious banter, but Hob refused to engage. He was not a toy for the king to play with as he pleased and then shove away when he got too bold. In another kingdom, Hob thinks he might have been executed for the glare he sent the lord’s way. But Morpheus only sighed and looked away, and eventually stopped trying. Their days were now filled with tense silences as they walked together.

Hob is seriously considering leaving Morpheus’ order to continue his travels on the day the assassination attempt happens. He is overseeing a trial between two nobles, something about one of them infringing on the other's land, Hob hadn’t really been paying attention. In hindsight, the two seem more amicable with each other than one would expect for a dispute to reach the point of coming before the king, but at the time Hob had just been grateful that it was a quiet day.

“My King, I have some evidence that I believe may sway you in my favor,” one of them announced.

Morpheus, with varying success, did try to keep from being too far above his people. As such, it was not unusual for him to stand and approach the noble when he gestured him forward, presumably to show or explain something to win his case. Hob, as usual, is only a step behind him. It is because of that that he catches the glint of metal in the noble’s hand within his robe.

With a wordless cry, Hob lunges forward, shoving Morpheus roughly to the ground to step in front of him. There is a loud clang as the noble’s dagger connects with Hob’s gauntlet. His eyes are wide at Hob’s speed, and he has no time to react before Hob’s fist makes contact with his nose, blood spraying as he collapses. Around them, the rest of the knights in the room rush into action, restraining both nobles and sweeping the room for any hidden danger.

With the threat so swiftly taken care of, Hob is free to look down at where the king was sprawled, dark fabric pooling around him as he pushes himself up, dark hair concealing half his face. They look at each other, the adrenalin of the moment still rushing through both of them.

“Are you alright, my liege?” Hob asks softly, holding a hand out.

Morpheus nods slowly, taking his hand and allowing Hob to pull him to his feet, “I am. Thanks to you.”

As they stand, hands still clasped for a moment longer than necessary, Hob realizes that he has missed Morpheus. Perhaps he cannot have everything that he wants so desperately. But if this is all he can have, well. At least he can have this.

“Of course,” he smirks, “I did swear to keep you soft and pretty, remember?”

He means it as an olive branch, a remembered joke between them to show that they can still be more than simply knight and king, even if they cannot be more. He does not mean to make Morpheus’ eyes fill with tears.

“Yes,” his voice cracks, “Of course.”

Hob is not given a chance to respond- not that he knows how to respond at all- before the king is turning away, calling for his advisor, Lady Lucienne, the one who had first approached Hob about his position within the court. The two convene quietly for a moment before Morpheus orders the knights present, including Hob, to take the two traitors away to be questioned and search the grounds for any other suspects.

It feels wrong to leave the king’s side. Hob feels a desperate need to watch over him, to keep him safe and protected, to wipe away the tears that look so perilously close to falling. But he has been given his orders, and the king and lady are already moving to sequester themselves somewhere private to discuss what to do with the situation. So, with one last look back, he goes to fulfill his duty.

Hours later, when the palace is confidently secure and the traitors are under lock and key, Hob feels no less anxious to be at his king’s side. He was told to return to his own quarters, to rest for the night, and he did try at first, setting his armor aside and laying in bed to try to calm the burning in his heart. But there is no rest to be found here, and soon he finds himself walking purposefully through the halls in his casual clothing, a decision he only regrets when he finds himself faced unexpectedly with the king’s advisor.

Lady Lucienne is exiting the room just as he approaches the king’s chambers. Still half in the doorway, she raises an eyebrow at the clearly off-duty knight before her, and Hob freezes, feeling like a child caught stealing sweets.

“Sir Gadling,” she greets cooly, “I did not expect to see you so late. I thought you were resting,” she raised an eyebrow at him pointedly.

“Yes, m’lady,” he bows his head, but tries to continue awkwardly, “I simply could not rest, and wished to check to ensure the king was well after the attack today.”

“He is well,” she answers shortly, “so you may-“

“Lucienne,” a deep voice calls out from within the room, “he may enter.”

Frowning, Lucienne gives Hob a quick narrow-eyed look before re-entering the room, closing the door behind her and leaving the knight alone in the hallway. He waits awkwardly as a hushed conversation happens behind the door. Finally, Lucienne emerges once more, still eying him warily, but opening the door wider to allow him entry into the king’s chamber. As he enters, he is surprised when she exits, closing the door again to leave him alone in the room with Morpheus.

The room is grand, as expected for a king, and Morpheus sits primly on the edge of the large, ornate bed in the center. He is no longer wearing the extravagant, heavy garb that he dons in public. His current night robe, while as dark and elegant as all of his attire, is also thinner and more lightweight. It is also… revealing. The silky fabric contrasts sharply with his pale, nearly white skin, and for the first time, Hob is granted the sight of his king’s forearms, his neck, the jut of his collar bones, his calves. And with it, he is granted the sight of countless scars.

Dark, rough scar tissue circles both his wrists like bracelets, a matching ring around his neck. There are some marks that Hob recognizes as blade wounds, and others that he thinks might be burns. They criss-cross over each other and dip below his robe, suggesting that what he is seeing is only a fraction of what exists. All of the marks look old. It does not make them look any less painful.

Hob feels his mouth open, the breath rushing out of him as though he has been struck. He can tell, he knows, that the scars are old enough to have been made long before Hob ever met Morpheus. Still, he feels a strange sense of failure. As though it is his fault for not meeting Morpheus in time to protect him.

When he finally raises his gaze, he finds Morpheus looking at him, patiently waiting for Hob to finish his inspection. Hob opens his mouth, but cannot find any words that might soften whatever is happening right now.

Finally, Morpheus speaks, “Once, I was a prince. And now, I am a king.” His voice holds the gravity of an execution, and the sorrow of bowing his own neck beneath the blade, “But there was a time, in between, when I was neither.”

Hob takes another shaking step into the room. There is something dreamlike in the situation, an anticipation, a feeling of falling. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Morpheus turns his eyes forward to stare at one of the large landscape paintings he’d commissioned from a local artist, “I was sixteen when I was taken,” he states plainly, as though his words don’t gut Hob to the core, “It was… easy. For them to steal me away. Far too easy, even for an unloved spare like myself. As if it had been allowed.” He pauses, but keeps his face carefully smooth and neutral, “I still do not know for certain. Whether I was stolen or given away.” His next words are spoken more to himself than to Hob, “Perhaps it does not matter.”

Everything in Hob wants to move closer, to hold his king and shield him with his body, as though the past was an arrow aimed for his heart that Hob could stand in the way of. And yet, he feels frozen. Feet rooted to the ground by a pain so great even his strong and stoic king cannot keep it from his voice.

“When my blindfold was removed, I found myself brought before King Burgess.”

And now, Hob gasps, a too-loud inhale in the heavy tension of the room. Morpheus looks at him, his body stiff and his face still carefully empty.

Hob feels like he can’t breathe, “How…” his voice cracks desperately, “How long were you there?” He might be making a mistake by asking, by speaking at all during this tale, but he has to know. He has to.

“I was kept as a secret treasure for ten years,” Morpheus reveals bluntly. “I escaped my imprisonment roughly six years ago.”

The timeline stretches before Hob’s eyes, and he wants to weep.

“I was there,” Hob exhales in horror. Morpheus’ blinks, eyes blank and not understanding. “I… Ten years ago, I…” his throat feels like it is closing, but he forces the words out, “Burgess’ kingdom was one of the first I traveled to after I lost Eleanor. I was raised in the land neighboring it. I was there for nearly a year, drinking and fighting and participating in tournaments to distract myself from grief. I was offered a place in his court but I. Declined.” He takes half a step back, and then a full step forward when he sees the way the motion makes his king’s face fall. “I was right there,” he whispers.

“I doubt you could have done much,” Morpheus replied, turning his face to look at the wall again, “I was not flaunted before his people, or even the rest of his court. Only a select few knew of my presence beneath his castle. He…” his voice trailed off, and his eyes glimmered as tears began to well. But he stubbornly blinked them back, “It does not matter,” he says again, even softer.

Hob wants to scream that it does matter, of course it matters. But his king looks so wounded right now, and it has nothing to do with the scars. So for now he waits, and lets Morpheus tell him no more than what he is ready to share.

“Eventually,” he continues, his voice steady once more, “the prince’s consort grew pitying. I am sure when he released me he expected me to simply run. But I had more than earned my right to vengeance.” His hands clenched into fists in his lap, “Burgess was almost too easy. He had grown old and careless. He was not so powerful as he thought himself when I was in chains. I spared his son the killing blow only out of gratitude to his consort.”

The stories of the fall of the Burgess Kingdom make much more sense now, with this information, and even the decline of the Endless kingdom who had for so long been allies with them.

“It took me some time to return to my home kingdom. I was weak, and needed to heal and regain my strength. I also gathered allies. Lady Lucienne, Sir Matthew, among others. My family was not expecting my return, and so it was easy to claim the throne for myself. My parents I exiled, along with their supporters. My siblings I allowed the freedom to do as they wished. And what they wished was to leave.”

A few of the king’s siblings had visited in Hob’s time at his side, but never for long. Hob ached at the pain he saw now. The pain of being abandoned so quickly after his return.

“And a few years later…” Morpheus’ gaze was heavy as he looked at Hob once more, “a traveling knight competed in a tournament, and caught my eye.”

Hob still remembers that day so vividly, the dark shadow of the king, the way he was too far for Hob to see his eyes and yet he fantasized about them looking at him. His heart swells in his chest to know that they were. And now he is here, stepping towards his king, his friend, the man he has stood beside for nearly two years now, and he cannot help but ask, “Why did you not tell me this before?”

When Morpheus sighs, it is heavy, and Hob thinks that a lesser man would have crumpled under the weight of the despair in that single breath.

“The parts of me that appeal to you…” he explains slowly, “being… soft. And pretty, and delicate, and pure…” he keeps his head high and shoulders back and it does not make him look any less ashamed, “they are all a fantasy. The reality is that I have long been. Damaged. And sullied.” Almost unconsciously, he brought one hand up to clutch at his robe, holding it closed just a little tighter, “Perhaps it was cruel of me to deceive you in such a way, but our games… brought me comfort. I could pretend, even if just for the briefest times, that it was true. That I was someone you could want.”

Eyes fluttering closed, he sighed, “I thought. If I could have nothing else. I could at least have that.”

His voice is so even, despite how soft it has grown, barely audible in the expansive room. He speaks as though reciting history- something that has already passed and cannot be altered. A tragedy that cannot be changed.

When Hob moves towards him, it is barely conscious. It is like floating down a river, like gravity, a force of nature that perhaps he could fight against if he wanted to. But he does not want to. And so he moves to his king and he kneels, and he did not know it was possible, but it feels even more right now than it has every time he has kneeled before. Morpheus looks at him, the slightest furrow in his brow, confused, surprised, strangely lost. Hob takes his hand, as he has countless times before, and for the first time feels the rough calluses on his fingers. He kisses his knuckles, and his lips brush his bare skin for the very first time. Morpheus gasps, silent, and Hob would have missed it had his eyes not been fixed on his king’s face.

And then he continues. He brings his lips to the ring of scar tissue around his bony wrist, kissing first the outside, then the inside, leaning forward to continue kissing up his arm. There is a part of him that is appalled at his daring- this is his king, he has no right to take such liberties. But there is a much larger part that is desperate to prove him wrong. He has sworn an oath to protect this man. In this moment, he wants to protect him from his own expectations.

And so he pushes himself up, still holding Morpheus’ hand as his lips trail over the landscape of texture across his skin. He kisses over the fabric of his robe, not pushing it aside, not asking Morpheus to reveal any more than he already has. He stands until he is, like blasphemy, looming over his king, leaning down to kiss along the rope of scarring along his neck. He feels, more than hears, the way Morpheus gasps as his lips caress his skin.

“No game could compare to the reality of you,” Hob breathes against his skin, letting his tongue lightly trace the texture of him, “You do not need to pretend that you are wanted.” Leaning back, he finds his king staring at him with wide, watery eyes, and Hob allows himself a moment to sweep his gaze down his figure in appreciation, “Look at you,” he whispers, “Look at how much you’ve survived.”

He brings his free hand up to cup Morpheus’ cheek, and his king still looks disbelieving, and so what can he do but lean in and kiss him. When their lips meet, it feels like the inevitability of dawn after a long dark night, like everything was meant to lead them here. They move their lips together slowly, softly, until the taste of salt blooms between them. Hob pulls back, and Morpheus drifts after him, tears streaming down his face. And for all that he has been through, he looks at Hob as though this, this love and wanting, is what will finally undo him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob kisses the tears from his cheeks, even as Morpheus shakes his head.

“I am not.”

Hob tuts softly, “You are.”

Feeling emboldened by his love, by a love he now understands is returned, he pushes gently at Morpheus’ shoulder, guiding him down to lay on the soft, rich fabric of his bed. Morpheus’ eyes are wide when he moves to straddle him, but he does not push him away. His hands hover over his hips hesitantly, and that is the moment Hob stops worrying about this being his king. Right now, this is just Morpheus, who has been torn apart, and pieced himself back together, and pushed Hob away because he was so certain he would not be wanted as he is. And Hob wants him, and so there is nothing more important than leaning down to kiss every inch of exposed skin.

“You are so strong,” Hob whispers, pressing his lips to the rough skin of his neck again, “but you have protected yourself for long enough. Let me, now.”

“Hob,” Morpheus’ voice is breathless, his hands finally come to clutch at his tunic, “I…”

“I have sworn an oath to you, my king,” he kisses the burns along his collar bones, “And I would swear another to you, my friend,” he kisses the raised scars on his chest, “and yet another for you, my love.”

Slowly he kisses down to his stomach, where he feels Morpheus tense and shudder even through his robe. Morpheus is breathing heavily beneath him, gasps and sobs and moans as Hob touches him all over. He tugs at Hob’s tunic and Hob obliges, tugging it over his head and reveling in the way Morpheus stares up at him, his tears slowing and his throat bobbing as he swallows at the sight of Hob’s muscled chest, his body hair broken up by ropes of scars from his years of knighthood.

Hob takes Morpheus’ hand, calluses caressing calluses, and leans down to settle his weight on top of him. He pressed their chests together, pale and scarred against tan and scarred. “See?” Hob whispered against his ear, “We match.”

Morpheus’ breath hitches, and his hand clings tighter to Hob’s. He does not let go for the rest of the night, even after they have finished their gentle rutting and have both stained the insides of their clothes. He allows Hob to use his own shirt to clean them both, and to wipe his tears away, and to curl around him beneath the covers, but he does not let go.

In the dark, Hob kisses each of his fingers, “Would that I could protect you from the things that have already happened,” he whispers, “But I swear to you, my beautiful Morpheus, that no new scars shall adorn your skin while I am here to prevent it.”

He feels fresh tears fall against his skin, and he knows it will take time for Morpheus to truly believe his words. Hob will slowly reveal the parts of his past that he had edited out, and Morpheus will do the same, and eventually they will lay together with no fabric between them, and Morpheus will still cry at the kindness and the love and the want in Hob’s eyes, and that will be okay. For now, they sleep in the safety of each other's arms.

And in the morning, Hob will help Morpheus dress, kissing up his body as he buttons his robe until he is once more fully covered, kissing his lips as he fastens the last button.

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #spring exchange #knight au

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milqueandsugar · 19 hours

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What if,, a band/artist rivalry between Adam and reader?

Since Adam outright says he's in a band in the first episode,, let's say that there's a rising artist who making themselves big in the music industry in Heaven, maybe even the same genre that Adam's band is in, and he gets ticked off.

So out of curiosity, he goes to one of their concerts (presumably to judge the music itself) but then when they start playing, he's just kinda.. in disbelief. Like the music is good?? And the person singing is hot??

Idk that would be something cool and funny to read,, love your stuff btw, been following since like last year 🙏🙏 I'll be 🥐 anon if that's cool and not taken ofc!

🌼☕` Your Tea Is Ready `☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Adam

A/n - thanks for following for so so long! This was fun to write!

| Adam/Rival!Reader|

Listen, alright he only went to investigate

Too see what it was that made you sooo much of a competitor, because upon first glance there was nothing that interesting about you

Like you had cool clothes and hair he wanted to run his hands through, and the most kissable lips he's ever seen, and you pretty much sweated sex appeal but like you were THAT cool

So he takes the chance when an opportunity arises to get seats for your show, he'll take the scolding for the expensive purchase from lute later, the information he could gather was worth far more than any currency

So he goes, fights through the crowd for drinks and then fights through the crowd again to get to his spot

Your fans are insane, thats the first thing, like he's used to fans throwing bras and underwear on stage but these people are screaming and cheering for you like you were on stage, the openers hadn't even started yet wtf was going on??

The crowd hype was real though and by time the openers, who were mid, closed he was feeling the buzz of excitement the crowd carried

It was contagious and his ailment of adrenaline was only worsened when you came on stage and started your first song

Fuck

Yeah he got the appeal

Seeing someone so confident, so in love with their passion made him fall equally in love with you, those are like the two sexiest things and angel can have and you've got them falling out of your pockets babe!!

He buys more tickets to up coming shows and a shit ton of merch while leaving the venue, he would have done it during the show but he couldn't tear his eyes away often enough to blink let alone do anything else

Any sense of envy or competiriveness? Gone, just like the money from his wallet

He only realizes when he's considering buying a signed shirt that he's acting like one of HIS groupies

Oh no

Decides then he needs to quit, you have a sick band, he respects you and has all your songs on vinyl and on his phone but he's not some fucking low life that stalks their celebrity crushes all right?

I mean he's going to keep the merch but hey it might be valuable one day!!

And he'll go see the shows for the tickets he already bought but otherwise it'd just be a waste so whatever it's totally normal

This is such normal behavior, just, be cautious if you ever mention HIS band in a positive light on social or in an interview, he is already heavily considering buying some back stage passes don't force his hand now, come on

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #adam x you #adam x y/n #adam headcanons #adam imagines #adam x reader

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petrolstationflowers · 1 day

Text

Up to your neck in true crime and feel you can really get into why burglars keep stealing your toilet? Then perhaps the Criminal Psychologist career is for you! This was another request from Catrillion and I had to do a fair bit of digging to make sure this one was accurate.

This job is available for YA - Elder, and you can join via the Police Station. Please note you will need University installed as one of the requirements is the Science skill!

No opportunities or books.

If you want to use this, you must have Nraas Careers installed for it to show up!

There are three custom tones to level your skills:

Build a Rapport (Logic) Write Your Report (Writing) Study Previous Cases (Science)

Coworker tones are the same, and skill tones and uniforms appear from level four. The carpool doesn't appear until level three -- you're a poor postgrad, after all!

Levels under here:

Positive Postgraduate - 10 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 17:00, M-F Description - It’s been a long road to graduation – plenty of sleepless nights watching true crime documentaries and making flash cards for exams, because Watcher forbid you muddle up the Hansford Prison Experiment and the Toto Doll study. You’ve decided you want to jump right in and get an internship, but where to start? Better start cozying up to your professors and making some phone calls! Enthusiasic Intern - 15 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F Description - After laying on the praise and asking very nicely, you’ve managed to secure an internship for the year. The pay is nothing special and the hours are long, but you’re learning a lot, working at the local police station, accompanying jail, and the mental health unit over at Sunset Valley General. You’ll be profiling offenders and writing out risk assessments for those living with Unstable personalities, writing recommendations to make the prison nicer and holding therapy sessions. Better hope they’ve got good coffee! Criminal Psychologist In Training - 30 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F Description - If you thought you escaped the classroom, think again. Sure, you’re finally getting to put your skills to use, but while you’re still helping out at the precinct, you’re also trying to put together where your skills lie. Would you be best working at HMS Sunset Valley, overseeing prisoner rehabilitation, or in the interview room at the police station working on a report for Sunset Valley Plumbbob Court? Best find a quiet spot in the legal library and do some studying – oh, and your manager wants those reports by the end of the day.

Junior Criminal Psychologist - 40 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F

Description - You’re not quite working in the big leagues yet, but you’re getting there. You’ve been assigned to the psychiatric unit, triaging those who have been sent your way and helping out with various studies being conducted around the facility. You are, however, getting to sit in on diagnostic intakes and occasionally are being trusted to write up your own. Hopefully if you format the reports nicely enough, you’ll be allowed to steer the ship yourself.

Clinical Researcher - 70 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F

Description - Now you’ve found your feet, you’ve been assigned to work on a clinical research program. Sure, it’s only a contract job, but you’re learning about kleptomania and why certain sims are compelled to steal street lights. Lots of note taking, interviewing people, and staring at graphs until the numbers blur, but when you finally see patterns and correlations, it’ll all be worth it!

Treatment Psychologist - 80 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F

Description - The data about street lights proved fruitful, and the local government have decided that the results are valuable enough to be put into practice. Sunset Valley General has set up a specific ward for those suffering from kleptomania, and you’ll be setting up therapeutic workshops and treatment programs to try and cut down on their thievery. It’ll take time, patience, and empathy – luckily, you’ve got those in spades.

Psychologist - 100 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 15:00, M-F

Description - Out on your own now, with an office and everything! No longer chained to a hospital or a ugly precinct storage room, you’re free to pursue topics that interest you and studies that make your brain light up. It’s back to assessing and evaluating patients, setting up group studies and making recommendations for them to take a long holiday to Barnacle Bay for the sake of their health. The hours are shorter and pay is better – maybe you’re finally at the top?

Senior Psychologist - 120 simoleans p/h, 10:00 - 17:00, M-F

Description - Business is booming, but there’s something missing; counselling snobby sims through their affluenza or prescribing pills for cowards who can’t stop running away from Bonehilda isn’t as fulfilling as it used to be. You’ve been keeping an eye on local job postings and there’s one that’s caught your eye; something about working with the police force to uncover exactly how their minds work. Perhaps it’s time to spruce up your CV…

Investigator in Training - 150 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, M-F

Description - You’re back to long hours and endless studying, but this one is paid well and comes with lots of benefits; namely, finally getting to study some of SimNation’s most intriguing criminals up close. You’re not being turned loose quite yet, so for the moment you’ll need to shadow your fellow officers and write up dictated reports on just why you think the Tricou family died and who had the motive to arrange Bella Goth’s disappearance. Keep your nose to the grindstone and soon you’ll be free of hours long recordings and into the interrogation rooms yourself.

Criminal Investigator - 200 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 18:00, T,W,U

Description - That work has paid off and you’re finally where you wanted to be – sitting across the table from some of the most dangerous people in SimNation. When Circe Beaker has been hauled in for illegal experimentation and Roderick Synapse has finally been arrested for kidnap, it’s your job to sit down with them and pick apart their alibis. You’ll need to walk the fine line between professional and friendly, keep a cool head when you’re hearing the horrors, and be able to put together everything you’ve learned in a well written report – best get the coffee ready.

Translations: I've included the English Strings in the file; if anyone is talented enough to translate, I would be incredibly grateful, so please let me know in the comments!

With thanks: To MissyHissy's career building tutorial!

#ts3 #ts3cc #the sims 3 #sims 3 custom content #the sims custom job #the sims 3 custom career #criminal psychologist #psychology

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no-stupid-questions-official · 2 days

Note

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🩸🩲 - to identify

This one is for uterus wielders:

Do any of y'all wear diapers during your period? I am a larger person with a decently heavy period. I typically use pads, rarely ever use tampons, I hate how they feel, but I've always felt like I'm worried about leaking outside of my pad and staining my underwear and pants.

It makes me uncomfortable for my whole period cuz I always feel like I have to sit/stand/lay in the exact right position with my pad placed in the exact right spot in my underwear, or else I'll leak. It doesn't happen that often, but point is I always stress about it throughout my period.

I don't wear tampons for similar reasons, I would just stress about leaking. Same with period underwear. I've found they're good for maybe the first and last days of my period when it's lighter, but not on my heavier days.

I've been wanting to just say fuck it and start wearing adult diapers, especially at night, but I've always felt like it'd be weird to do that. Idk why, I know for sure if someone told me they wear diapers during their period (or just in general), I'd just be like "hell yeah brother" and wouldn't judge them at all, but I guess the social stigma gets to me when I think about doing it myself. So I'm just wondering if anyone else actually does it.

TLDR: for people with periods, do you wear diapers during your period?

#question #biology

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delacyrose224 · 2 days

Text

Part of Your World

Pairing: merman!Changbin x reader

Genre: Fluff, small amounts of angst

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Mildly suggestive, brief mentions of blood/pain

Author's Note: Song of the day is Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid! Here it is @bluejutdae, the merman Binnie fic that no one asked for...but in all seriousness, this was so fun to write and I have a soft spot in my heart for this Binnie.

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

The waves lap against the shoreline, the dull roar of the ocean echoing off the rocks. You breathe deeply and let out a giant sigh. This. This was what you needed…time alone, time off, time out. A break to reset your mind, rethink your goals, and time to figure out where to go next.

Stress had been eating away at you for entirely too long. You weren’t quite happy with your job, but you didn’t know what you wanted to do instead. You had made friends but not any that felt truly significant in your life. Your parents had graciously lent you their beach house, the one you had spent every summer growing up going to. Even in the two days since you had arrived, you had already felt more clear headed. Each day was the same-wake up without an alarm, make a cup of coffee, read on the porch, walk along the beach, make lunch, read some more (on the beach) and then relax on the couch until dinnertime.

You had arrived at the ‘read on the beach’ portion of your day yet again, which maybe was your favorite. You had picked a lighthearted romance to accompany you today, which felt only appropriate for your surroundings. The beach was quiet this afternoon…probably because you had come in the off season, the weather not quite warm enough for bathing suits yet. Nevertheless, you were excited to start your new book and enjoy the sounds of the ocean in the background. After a few chapters, you find yourself nodding off in your chair due to just how relaxed you are.

You wake to the sound of the surf crashing against an outcropping of rocks not too far away from you. The book you’re reading falls to the sand as you stand up, squinting down at your watch to see what time it is. 7:43 already?! Sure enough, on the horizon you can see the sun starting to dip beyond where the skyline meets the water. As you’re looking out, you suddenly see a flash of something that almost looks metallic glinting in the waning sunlight, just beyond the outcropping of rocks. You move forward until you’re on the edge of the shoreline. Maybe you made it up…what would be reflecting sunlight like that at this time of day? Right before you give up and head back to your house, you see it again. Something reflecting the sun, brighter than the top of the water.

This time, you start to walk out towards the object. Maybe someone lost something valuable and you could retrieve it and help them out. Before long, you’re up to your waist in the water, your shorts waterlogged. Undeterred, you go further, and before long, you’re treading water near the outcropping of rocks, looking for whatever this mysterious object is…but you see nothing. You swim around to the other side of the rocks…still nothing. By this time, the sun has crept most of the way beyond the horizon and you’re starting to shiver. You had worn a sweatshirt to keep warm from the occasional breeze, and it’s become heavy with water and is starting to irritate your skin. As you turn to swim back towards the shore, your body suddenly is lifted up by a wave and on the way down, you scrape your arm against the rocks. You gasp in pain, pulling it towards you to see how badly you’re hurt. What you don’t see is another wave coming your way. It pulls you up again and crashes down, pushing you under the water. You fight to make your way back to the surface, but the force of the wave leaves it unclear which way is up. You twist your body around, finally gaining traction, when there it is again…a metallic glint of something, this time under the water. And…it almost looks…pink? That’s the last thought you have as the current slams your body into the rocks and you float into unconsciousness.

—-------------------------------------

You wake with a start, coughing violently and spitting out what feels like liters of water. Your lungs and throat burn from all the salt and it’s difficult to catch your breath for a minute or two. You eventually sit up and notice it’s now completely dark outside. How long have you been unconscious? As you sit trying to gather yourself, you hear what sounds like faint humming coming from the water…more specifically, from the outcropping of rocks. You get to your feet unsteadily, warily walking towards the water, but not close enough to touch the water. It’s definitely humming…and it sounds like a man’s voice? You can’t make out the words, if there even are any…and just as your feet are starting to touch the edge of the ocean, you hear a large splash directly behind where you know the rocks end. It’s too dark to see anything, but you take that as your cue to gather your items, go back to your house, and go to bed.

You sleep later than you have in a while after your scare, and you spend the next few days avoiding the beach. You have no idea what you heard (surely there was not a person humming in the middle of the night?), and the giant splash also remains a mystery. Maybe it’s better to just forget about what happened. Maybe you should just move on…so you decide to finally brave the beach again, this time staying away from the water and sticking to your beach chair to read.

The afternoon goes by uneventfully, and you’re about halfway through your book when you get a couple of notifications on your phone. You pull the device from your bag and see a text from your friend Caroline asking how your mini-vacation is going. You smile to yourself as you pull up the other notification, and your smile immediately drops as you see a weather alert for an incoming storm that is supposed to have high speed winds and the potential to develop into a tornado.

You start to put everything back into your bag to leave when you notice another figure further down the beach. As the figure draws closer, you see it’s a man that seems to be around your age, maybe a little younger. He’s dressed in oversized clothes, a holey white shirt almost reaching the knees of his equally holey black pants. He looks lost in the clothes more than seeming it’s a look he’s trying to achieve, and as he comes closer, you see that his face also looks lost. You debate asking if he needs any help, but before you decide one way or another, he notices you and heads your way.

You smile tentatively as he draws closer. “Are you okay?” you ask.

“...me?”

“Well, I don’t see anyone else wandering down the beach. You know it’s about to storm, right?”

“I didn’t know, exactly…but I kinda figured. The clouds don’t look too happy,” he replies, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes.

“Are you lost or something?” The man’s eyebrows raise to meet his hair, eyes going wide.

“Kind of…it’s a long story. One that you probably wouldn’t believe most of anyway,” he says, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

You cross your arms over your chest, unimpressed. “Try me.” He grins in return, the smile lighting up his whole face.

“I would, but I’m a little more worried about where I’m going to wait out this storm.” The man grimaces as the sky, as if on cue, starts to drop large raindrops onto the sand.

You could invite this stranger into your home to wait out the storm…but he’s a stranger. But it would be cruel to leave him in a storm, right? Before you have time to think any more, the raindrops become more steady, leaving cold rivulets down both of your arms.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

“Changbin. Yours?”

You tell Changbin your name in return, and just as you begin to ask if he wants to wait out the storm with you, the rain turns into a full=--out downpour.

“Follow me!” you yell over the storm, quickly grabbing your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and breaking into a jog towards your house.

Changbin struggles behind you. Not only is his clothing slowing him down with how baggy it is, but he’s running as if…as if he’s never run a day in his life, you notice. It’s baffling to you, but without thinking, you reach back for his hand to make sure he’s able to keep up with you and knows where to go.

The two of you arrive soaked on your porch, dripping everywhere. You dig around in a storage box for towels and you hand him one. Changbin watches you as you place the towel around your shoulders and quietly copies you as you wring out your shirt and try to dry your hair. This baffles you as well…how does an adult man not know how to run properly, and then needs prompting to dry off with a towel? Nevertheless, you unlock the front door and go inside, with him following closely behind you.

“You’re not like a serial killer or something, right?” you suddenly blurt, turning to face Changbin. He lets out a giggle and shakes his head at you.

“I have never killed anything or anyone in my life, and I wasn’t planning on starting anytime soon.” You let out a relieved laugh, though you aren’t completely sure about him yet.

You show him to the guest room and tell him you’re going to change clothes and that he can do the same, just borrowing some of your brother’s old clothes.

You both emerge a few minutes later, you in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, Changbin in gym shorts and a black tee that almost looks too tight as it hugs his very defined chest. Not that you noticed or anything. Ahem.

He follows you this time to the living room and you motion for him to sit on the couch as you go into the kitchen and make the two of you a cup of tea. Just as you hand him a mug and sit down beside him, there’s a bright flash of lightning and following that, the power promptly goes out.

Without warning, Changbin grasps at your hand, nervously gripping it. Your other hand reaches for his wrist and pats gently, reassuring him.

“Changbin, it’s fine, it’s just the power. I have some candles somewhere around here…let me find them.”

He says nothing in reply, but his grip doesn’t ease.

“...that requires you to let go of my hand,” you say gently. Changbin clears his throat and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay…I’ll be right back.”

You get up and feel around for your side table that has a drawer, knowing there are candles inside. After bumping your hip into both an armchair and another table, Changbin loudly protesting that you should just come back and sit down to stop from hurting yourself, you finally find the correct table and gather a few candles along with a lighter. You place them around the room, putting the last one on the table in front of the couch. As the light illuminates his face, you notice Changbin looking amazed. He slides from the couch onto his knees, face even with the candle.

“What, have you never seen a candle before?” you laugh, but he shakes his head slowly, eyes still trained on the flame in front of him. He suddenly seems to realize what he’s admitted, looking up and locking eyes with you.

“Who are you? What’s your story I won’t believe?” you muse aloud, half to yourself.

Changbin stands and situates himself back onto the couch and pats the seat beside him.

“I think you’re going to want to sit for this…”

—--------------------------------------

“So you’re telling me…you’re a merman?!” you whisper-yell, though no one is around to hear you except Changbin. He nods.

“And you’re a human because…?”

“Because my brother found a spellbook, and he wanted to help ‘cause he knew that I’d always been fascinated by the human world, so he cast a spell and now I’m human. That’s why I was wearing those clothes when you found me.”

You sit, mouth slightly ajar from all the information you’re trying to process at once.

“What are the parameters of the spell then? Aren’t you supposed to give up your voice or something?” Changbin cocks his head at you, looking like a confused dog.

“Why would I have to give up my voice, how would that be helpful?” You wave off his question impatiently, motioning for him to continue explaining.

“The problem is, I don’t know what the parameters are…and neither did Hyunjin when he did the spell. He’s not exactly a sea witch or anything. So I guess I’m just making the best of it while I can…I want to experience everything that I can!” He gets louder as he gets more excited until it looks like he’s about to bounce out of his seat. It makes you smile.

“Well…for starters, you can stay here in my brother’s room. Unless you figured out something else?” Changbin gives a small shake of his head. “I don’t know how good of a tour guide to humanity I’ll be, but I can try.” His smile makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’ll repay you by teaching you how to swim properly,” he chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, um…well…I kind of saw you the other day. You almost died!” he exclaims, hands gesticulating wildly. “You need to be a strong enough swimmer to save your own life.”

“You mean the day I passed out and washed up on shore? Wait a minute…was that you?!” Changbin nods sheepishly. “I went out in the water because I saw you! Your tail! It was reflecting the sunset so beautifully…” A blotchy flush starts to work its way up his neck towards his face.

“But you almost died! Forget my tail…”

“Did the current wash me back up onto shore? I don’t remember anything until I woke up on the beach,” you muse, trying to recall what might have happened.

Changbin shakes his head again. “I…I grabbed you once you fell unconscious and pulled you back onto land,” he says quietly. “I couldn’t watch you die, no matter what any of my brothers say about the human world.”

Before you’re fully aware of what your own body is doing, you find yourself on the couch beside him enveloping him in a hug. His arms find their way around you, mirroring your actions.

“Thank you,” you whisper, tears collecting on your lash line. He pulls you in even closer somehow, his warmth burning through your clothes.

“Hey, hey…no crying! You’re here, right? I told you, I wasn’t going to let someone die on my watch. Especially not a girl as pretty as you,” he laughs. You look up at him, and you can feel heat emanating from your face that has nothing to do with the hug. “But like I said…I’m teaching you how to swim properly so I don’t have to worry about you when I’m not around.” You give a small nod, wiping the remnants of your tears away.

—--------------------------------

And so the days pass, Changbin staying with you and learning bit by bit about the human world. You take him grocery shopping, introduce him to ice cream, and show him everything you find comforting about the small town you used to vacation in. You point out the community theater you used to perform summer musicals in, go to the local coffee shop to get your favorite vanilla latte (Changbin finds that he is partial to their hazelnut latte), and take walks along the shoreline at sunset. It’s on one of these walks that you find yourself asking him more about his brothers.

“Chan is the oldest, and he acts like it…super mature, super dependable. Minho’s a little older than me, but he’s kinda off in his own world. Loves animals. Then Hyunjin is next after me, he’s the one who turned me human. Jisung is the next youngest, he’s always hanging out with Minho. He’s very talented at music. Felix is the literal embodiment of sunshine and bubbles, you’d love him, everyone does. Seungmin is a menace, but very funny. And Jeongin’s the baby, but we all know he’s the one who’s really in charge.” You laugh at this, enjoying watching him explain his family dynamics. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your family like?” Changbin is so earnest, it takes you aback.

“I mean, nothing that exciting. I’m decently close with my parents, and I have a younger sister. We don’t talk all the time, but we don’t not get along. There’s not much to say.”

“So why are you here then? At your summer house…alone?” You stop walking and he does the same, still looking at you.

“Work’s been…hard. Not even the job itself, but I just moved again and I’m still getting used to everything. I needed a break, so I came here. Where everything is familiar. Well, it was until you came along.” You nudge his shoulder playfully, but he looks thoughtful.

“Did I ruin your break?” he asks.

“What? No, no, of course not!” You shake your head vehemently.

“You can tell me if I did…I am staying in your house and taking up an awful lot of your time.”

You shake your head again. “No, really, it’s fine…honestly, you’ve made it better. If I had been alone the whole time, I would have gotten way too into my head and it would have been a mess. I’ve enjoyed showing you what it’s like to be a human…well, at least what it’s like to live my life.”

“I love it! Your life is so…cozy? I’m not sure that’s the right word, but it feels so comfortable being with you.” He’s not sure what comes over him, but Changbin reaches out and grabs your hand, motioning you to continue your walk. You start walking again as the sun dips behind the horizon, but his hand remains with yours.

“You know, I don’t normally let strange men into my house.” He laughs. “But I’m glad I invited you in during that storm…I’ve felt comfortable too.” You squeeze his hand, and he returns the gesture.

The moon is almost full, illuminating the beach as you walk. In the distance, Changbin notices a building looming large. “What’s that?” he asks, gesturing with your intertwined hands. You follow the gesture with your eyes, realizing what it is even in the dark.

“Oh, that’s the sea turtle center! They do a lot of work during the summer, the turtles come and lay their eggs a little further down the beach. They’re actually throwing their annual charity ball in a week or so to raise funds for their summer season.”

Changbin’s eyes go wide with excitement, almost sparkling in the moonlight.

“What?” you laugh. He reaches and grabs your other hand, turning you to face him fully.

“Can we go? Are we allowed to?” You can’t think of a reason why not, so you nod. His excitement is palpable as a smile takes over his face and he shakes your hands back and forth.

“I’m so excited for you to teach me how to dance!”

—----------------------------------------------

And that’s how you find yourself in your dining room a week later, table and chairs pushed to the side to make a temporary dance floor. Changbin has one hand around your waist, the other grasped in yours. You’d been teaching him how to ballroom dance for the past hour, starting with a simple box step and working your way up to a waltz.

“The timing of this feels so weird,” he laughs as the two of you step together. You giggle as you fall off balance and out of step with the 1-2-3 timing.

“It does at first, but when you get it right, it feels like you’re floating across the floor,” you sigh dreamily. “The closest we’ll get to flying.”

A soft smile works its way onto Changbin’s face, and he repositions himself to start the dance again, pulling you even closer to him than before.

“Let’s try again,” he says.

“Are you sure? We’ve been at this for an hour, we can take a break.”

He squeezes your hip gently in response. “I’m sure…I want to fly with you.”

Your head falls to his shoulder at this remark, hiding your face from him. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” His voice rumbles through his chest, the vibrations making their way to where your forehead meets his shirt. You shake your head, still hiding your face. “Look at me…please?” he pleads, voice laden with the beginnings of worry.

You lift your head slowly, your eyes finally meeting his gaze.

“You’re okay?” You nod. “Why did you react that way?” You swallow nervously, picking at your fingernails. You can practically feel your face getting blotchy with embarrassment.

“What you said…that’s why I reacted that way.” Changbin raises an eyebrow, still not quite comprehending. “It’s…it’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me. And I’ve only just met you.” Your breath hitches at the realization, and you’re shocked by the sudden tears swimming in your eyes.

“Hey, hey…there’s no need to cry, pretty,” he places his hands gently on the sides of your face, rubbing his thumb where an errant tear had escaped your lash line. His kindness causes more tears to make their way down your cheeks and he simply stands there in the silence with you, wiping them away as they come. After a few minutes, he tentatively reaches for your hand and brings you over to the couch, where he lays a blanket over you once you’ve sat down.

You start to protest, but he quiets you by telling you he’ll be right back. He pads off to the kitchen and returns ten minutes later with a mug of hot chocolate that he extends to you. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he warns, gently placing it into your open hands.

You look at the swirling mini marshmallows that are floating on the steaming chocolate and turn to Changbin who has sat down next to you. At the questioning look on your face, he turns playfully indignant. “Hey! I made not have ever made hot chocolate before, but I can read instructions!” You laugh, and he moves his arm around your shoulder drawing him into his warmth. “Is this okay?” He looks nervous as he searches your face for any sign of impending tears. You nod, adjusting to become more comfortable to show him that you’re fine.

Changbin draws the blanket around the both of you and turns the tv on to start a movie. You can’t help but laugh as you see that he’s chosen The Little Mermaid. Your laughter doubles as you watch the faces of disbelief that he makes throughout the movie, with loud exclamations about how life underwater is nothing like what is being portrayed.

“It’s a movie, Binnie,” you insist, still giggling.

“Huh?” He looks over at you, eyes wide.

“It’s a movie, I said.”

“No, I know that…what did you call me?”

You sit up cautiously. “...Binnie? Is that okay?” It’s your turn to be nervous. You’d never called him that, but it had just slipped out.

“I love it,” he smiles, the fullness of it crinkling his eyes into half moons. You breathe a sigh of relief, sinking back into the warmth of his hold.

Between the hot chocolate, blanket, and Changbin’s body heat, you find yourself nodding off towards the end of the movie. Changbin notices and starts drawing shapes on your arm with his thumb, hoping to further soothe you into slumber…and it works.

He smiles down at you folded into the crook of his arm, deep breaths reassuring him that you were getting the rest you needed. He cautiously leans down, careful not to disturb you, and places a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You smell like coconut and the ocean, which makes him smile.

“You deserve to be told romantic things every day,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. “Every single day.”

—--------------------------------------------

You wake to the sunrise, still on the couch, vaguely remembering that you must have fallen asleep during the movie you were watching the night before. You stretch your legs out from where they were curled into your side and realize that you are still snuggled into Changbin’s side, except his head is now on top of yours from whenever he eventually fell asleep as well. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you slowly attempt to disentangle yourself from the man next to you. Just as you think you’re going to make your escape, he lets out a muffled whine and tightens his grip around you, forcing the side of your face into his chest. You laugh, reaching your hand to slowly draw shapes on his side.

“Binnie…” you murmur softly, tracing your fingers up and down his torso. Nothing. “Binnie…” you try again, this time a little louder. As your hand hits his waist again, he twitches and his eyes snap open.

“Stop, that tickles!” he whines, burying his face into your hair.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead,” you laugh, but stop the movements of your hand.

“That’s rich coming from you, the one who fell asleep right before the end of the movie.” Changbin gently disentangles himself from you, and you can see him playfully roll his eyes as he stretches his arms above his head, a sliver of his stomach showing beneath his black shirt. Not that you noticed or anything.

“What time is it, anyway?” he asks. You squint over at the clock across the room.

“7:05.” He groans.

“It’s too early…why did you wake me up?” You laugh in response.

“The sun woke me up, take it up with Mother Nature.” He rolls his eyes again, but a smile plays across his features.

“Well, since we’re up, it’s a perfect time for you to learn to swim properly!” He reaches for your hand as he stands up, yanking you up with him. He’s a little forceful, making you reach out and stabilize yourself-with both your hands splayed across his chest.

“Little forward this morning, are we?” he wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, causing you to break out in a fit of giggles.

“Something like that,” you concede, reaching out to sweep an errant curl off his forehead. Changbin’s eyes soften as you do so, mapping out every detail of your expression.

“You’re really pretty. You know that, right?” He tilts his head, looking at you.

“Changbin, I literally look like I just got dragged through a bush backwards, but I appreciate you trying to be nice.”

“I’m not being nice…I’m being blunt, if anything,” he muses, still cataloging your face. Though his eyes have also started to roam the rest of your body as well.

“My hair is a rat’s nest, my makeup is smeared from falling asleep…and I think I have dried drool on the corner of my mouth?!” you realize in horror, trying to wipe your face clean.

Changbin grabs your hand and stops it mid-motion, then takes over himself. Wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb, moving to gently swipe under your eyes where your mascara has flaked. You can feel the heat emanating from your face, burning with embarrassment.

“No need to be embarrassed, pretty.” You duck your head, feeling called out. “Look at me.” You raise your head to look at Changbin again. “You are really pretty. Always. But I think this might be my favorite.” He smiles shyly at you.

“Why?” you whisper.

“Because…because you’re rested. Because you’re taking care of yourself. Because I think I might be the only person that gets to see you like this.” You nod almost imperceptibly, confirming his statement. His smile grows and he gently holds your face between his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” The tips of his ears are red as he asks the question, searching your eyes hopefully. You lean closer, your breath fanning across his full lips.

“I’d like that,” you breathe, and before you can move any further, Changbin has closed the space between you, lips slotting over yours.

You sigh into the kiss, and you can feel Changbin’s smile in return as he moves his hands from your face to your waist, squeezing and drawing you closer to himself.

What starts as very sweet and tentative quickly becomes more urgent, with your hands tangled in his curls, his moving under your shirt. A sigh escapes your lips as you feel his thumbs ghost the undersides of your breasts, and he takes the opportunity to slot his tongue into your mouth, which you welcome.

After a few moments, you both come up for air and Changbin breaks into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing really…it’s just that I never could have predicted this would happen when I got turned into a human. I’m really gonna have to thank Hyunjin the next time I see him, huh?”

This causes you to join in his laughter, and you pull him close again to land a soft kiss on his nose.

“I guess you have to. After you introduce me, of course. Also…I believe I was promised a swimming lesson?”

“Ah yes, an excuse to see me half naked.” Changbin rolls his eyes and you swat his chest playfully. “You’ll get your swimming lesson after breakfast, can’t have you passing out on me again.” He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you towards the kitchen.

“One sunrise special coming up!”

—-----------------------------------------

And that’s how you end up spending most of the day in the ocean with Changbin. Your swimming skills aren’t quite as bad as he thought (you did get thrown into a rock by a wave, after all), but he’s still able to adjust your form on several different strokes. Even when you’re not doing much, it seems like he’s able to find some way to have his hand ghost along your lower back…or he finds an excuse to sweep strands of wet hair behind your ear…or he’s tightening the strings of your swimsuit ‘just in case’.

Once you notice your fingers starting to get wrinkly, the two of you collapse onto towels on the shore. You’re silent for a while, content to rest in each others’ presence. Then something you’ve been thinking about for a while escapes your lips.

“Don’t you miss your brothers?”

Changbin turns to face you, his lips forming a small pout. “Sure I do. I mean, I don’t miss Seungmin teasing me all the time or Chan’s terrible dad jokes, but generally I do miss them…yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, studying his expression as his brow furrows.

“Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely.” He reaches his hand towards you, making a grabby motion until you reach out and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I dunno…I just feel bad that I can’t do anything to fix it or help. Maybe I should’ve been helping you research how to turn back into a merman or something, instead I’ve just been taking up all your time with silly things like dancing and swimming and showing you around town,” you huff.

“I’ve loved doing those things with you. I can’t believe all the things I used to just see in books, or from far away, I’ve gotten to do. With you.” You smile at the pink tinting his cheeks. “I get to go to a ball with you in a few days…it’ll be like that story you told me about, what was it again?”

“You mean Cinderella?” you laugh, and he nods excitedly.

“You just gotta promise not to run away at midnight and turn into a pumpkin, or whatever it was.” He leans up onto his forearms, scooting himself closer to you. “Can you do that?”

“I can’t make any promises about what happens if I’m up that late past my bedtime, Binnie.” He huffs out a laugh before swooping in for a quick peck to your lips.

“Fine, fine. I can’t wait to see you in your dress…I just know you’re going to be the most beautiful person there.” Changbin’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at you, and it makes you feel gooey inside.

“We’ll see about that.”

—-------------------------------------------

“...I told you, gorgeous.” Changbin lets out a low whistle as you come out of your bedroom and into the living room where he’s waiting. He’s wearing a three piece navy suit to match your floor length sparkly navy gown.

“You look amazing too,” you reply. “So handsome.” You run your hands over his lapel and then down his arms, stopping to squeeze his biceps. “Be careful, you might rip your jacket,” you smirk.

“Hands off, ma’am…this is a classy affair.” You dissolve into a fit of giggles and Changbin tries to keep a straight face but fails miserably, his own squeaky giggles echoing your own. Once the two of you collect yourselves, he offers his arm to you and you gladly accept.

Though it’s not far, you end up driving to the conservation center to save your feet from walking any more in heels than they need to. As you enter the ballroom, you gasp. They’ve outdone themselves with the decorations-the ceiling is full of twinkling lights wrapped through gauze, there are multiple tables laden with appetizers, desserts, and drinks, and the dancefloor is massive. As you walk towards an empty table, a waiter walks by and offers the two of you champagne, which you take happily. You claim two spaces and turn to see Changbin’s eyes grow wide as he sips his drink.

“It’s so…bubbly!” He exclaims, and you laugh at his expression.

“I guess you’ve never had alcohol before, huh?” He shakes his head. “It’ll make you a little lightheaded if you don’t eat anything, let’s grab some food.”

The two of you walk over to one of the many food tables, and Changbin starts loading down his plate with at least one of everything, multiple if he thinks something looks especially good. He notices you being more careful with your choices and raises his brow in confusion.

“Why aren’t you trying anything else? It all looks so good!” He lifts his own plate toward you as evidence.

“This dress is already tight, I don’t want to be bloated and it shows…or worst case, I rip a seam or something.” Your face blanches at the thought.

Changbin immediately grabs your hand and steers you back toward your table. Once you’ve taken a seat, he starts putting items from his plate onto a fork and holds it up to you.

“Try it,” he pleads with puppy dog eyes. You begrudgingly obey and he gently places the food in your mouth. It’s some sort of quiche tartlet with ham you think…or maybe bacon. Either way, it’s delicious and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the taste. Changbin’s eyes light up at your delight. “See, it’s so good! I told you!”

You spend the next ten to fifteen minutes sharing Changbin’s plate with him. He takes a bite, then insists that you take the next…until you’ve had tartlets, sliders, trifles, assorted crackers with cheeses and jams, and they’re all unbelievably delicious.

“Full?” he asks, and you nod, feeling sated. “Good. You’ve got a little bit of jam…just there…” He leans in and meets your mouth with his, swiping his tongue gently over your lower lip. As he moves back, you notice his eyes have darkened. “Delicious,” he smirks as he leans into his chair. As if suddenly remembering something, he sits up closer to you and reaches over to run his hands down your sides, his mouth hovering close to your ear. “This dress shows every last curve on your body, and I love it…I’m just jealous I’m not the only one who gets to see it.”

Before you can even think to reply, he’s moved to stand by your side, holding a hand out towards you.

“May I have this dance?”

—-----------------------------------------

For having just learned to dance, Changbin is impressive. He’s able to lead you successfully through a few opening dances, and freestyles hilariously (though still on beat). The night is full of champagne bubbles, stolen kisses, and soft laughter.

You feel truly content for the first time in a long time as you slow dance, your forehead tilted and touching Changbin’s. “How are you real?” you breathe out without thinking.

“I could ask the same of you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss on your temple and sways with you on the dancefloor.

You swallow thickly as you lift your eyes to meet his. “What happens…what happens when you go back?” Changbin’s brow furrows as he considers your question.

“Maybe I don’t go back,” his answer is tentative, searching for your response. Your eyes grow wide.

“You-you want to stay human?”

Before he can answer, there’s a commotion across the room. You try to see what’s happening, even reaching up on your tiptoes, but just as a lanky figure with black hair comes into view, a silky voice travels from the stranger to the two of you, making goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Hello, brother.”

—---------------------------------------

“Hyunjin?! What’re you-how are you-you’re here?!” Changbin splutters in disbelief. The stranger, who you now know is his brother, merely nods with a small smile on his face.

Changbin closes the space with the taller man and envelopes him in a hug that makes Hyunjin wince before he gently extracts himself. “How are you here?” Changbin repeats, still wide eyed.

“Same as you, brother. I made myself into a human…you were surprisingly hard to track down tonight.” Hyunjin walks towards the conservation center’s balcony, away from the crowd and you and Changbin follow.

“Why were you looking for me?” Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest and raises a brow at his older brother’s question.

“Did you really not think I would find you eventually? Did you plan on being a human forever?” A snide laugh escapes Hyunjin’s lips at his own question.

At this, Changbin crosses his arms over his chest matching the man before him. “And what if I did?” Your eyes grow wide at his response and you step towards him, reaching for his hand. As Changbin firmly intertwines your fingers, Hyunjin follows the motion with his eyes, a smirk taking over his features.

“Ah yes…this must be the reason you think you could stay human.” Hyunjin cocks his head to the side, appraising you. “I suppose she is rather pretty,” he admits, reaching out and tucking a loose hair behind your ear.

Changbin steps forward, angling himself between you and Hyunjin. “Don’t touch her.”

Hyunjin huffs out a laugh. “And what are you going to do to stop me? I’m the one who turned you into a human in the first place…you wouldn’t have even met her if it wasn’t for me.” His voice is dripping with derision as he looks over the two of you.

“What happened to you? The brother I know would never act like this.” Changbin sounds disappointed, and you can hear the sadness behind his words.

“The brother you know? You were always so happy to be in your own little world, daydreaming about the human world, being so close with Chan…do you even know why I agreed to help you turn into a human?” You see Changbin swallow thickly as he shakes his head. Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

Hyunjin gazes out at the shoreline from the edge of the balcony and lets out a giant sigh. “It’s because of the compass. It’s always been about the compass.”

“What compass?” you ask, the first words you’ve spoken since Hyunjin’s arrival. He cuts a quick glance to you and then goes back to staring at the water.

“Since Chan is the oldest, he has a compass. It’s the only thing we have related to our parents, it’s a magical relic of sorts…it can help you realize whatever your heart’s desire is. Dreams. Anyway, Chan refuses to use it, says he has his heart’s desire already, whatever that is. At some point, it would pass down to the other brothers. I knew Minho had no interest in it, he’s happy to live life the way he is. Which meant dear Changbin here was next in line.”

You look over at Changbin, and his expression is stormy. You squeeze his hand reassuringly, which seems to ground him. He steps a little closer to you and kisses your temple and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“How sweet.” Hyunjin’s voice is void of emotion as he watches the exchange. “As I was saying, he was in the way of me getting the compass. So I decided to offer him something he couldn’t say no to-a chance at being human. I knew he couldn’t resist, especially after he saved you…he wouldn’t shut up about it. I had picked up enough magic from studying how the compass worked to figure it out. And here we are.”

Changbin’s voice is shaky and small when he finally speaks. “So you tricked and manipulated me. Why are you here now, then? I’m sure you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t gotten your hands on what you wanted.”

A small smile works its way onto Hyunjin’s face, one that looks like it actually may have some small sliver of kindness. “I did get what I wanted, actually. I convinced Chan to give it to me once he realized you were missing…I told him I would find you and bring you back. And here I am. I may have manipulated you, brother, but I would never leave you stranded. Pretty girl or not, you belong with us. As a merman.”

Hyunjin’s hands start to glow faintly, a turquoise that grows brighter as he begins to motion towards Changbin.

“Wait, we need to talk about this-Hyunjin, don’t-” Changbin protests, but Hyunjin doesn’t even seem to hear him. The glow has traveled from his hands and is making its way up his arms, and he almost seems to be in some sort of trance. Changbin notices as well, and moves towards his brother, reaching to grab his hands.

You move without thinking, stepping in front of Changbin and grasping Hyunjin’s hands. The turquoise glow slowly transfers from Hyunjin’s body to yours…but instead of traveling up your arms, it flows down towards your legs and feet. It feels like a million needles piercing through your skin and into your bones, and you let out an involuntary scream. The noise seems to break through Hyunjin’s trance, and his eyes widen in shock. He tries to remove his hands from yours, but they won’t budge.

“I-I can’t let go! Changbin, help!” All traces of bravado are gone from Hyunjin’s face, almost making him look like a small child. Changbin rushes behind his brother and wraps his hands around Hyunjin’s arms and pulls, but even with his added strength nothing happens.

You’ve collapsed to your knees at this point, pained whimpers escaping you every few seconds, tears streaming down your face from the pain. Changbin is on the verge of tears himsef, but he’s too afraid to touch you for fear of making things worse.

“Please just hold on…please. We’ll figure out how to fix this. We will. Promise.” His voice is small and scared, and it makes you cry even harder.

“I’m so sorry, I was just trying to help…I thought he was going to hurt you,” you hiccup. Just as you think you won’t be able to handle any more pain, the glow fades and you fully collapse onto the balcony floor. Changbin immediately rushes to you, cradling your upper half in his arms, alternating between running his hand over your hair and wiping away your tears.

“What did you do?!” he demands of Hyunjin, eyes full of fury. Hyunjin stares blankly down at the two of you in shock and just shakes his head.

Changbin turns to you as he stands, holding out a hand to help you up. “Let’s get you home, hmm?” His eyes are soft as he looks down at you. You reach up to grasp his hand, and as your fingers graze his, the needle feeling is back, but this time in your lungs.

“Binnie, I can’t…I can’t…it hurts…” you wheeze, gasping and holding your chest.

He drops to his knees immediately, hands flying to cup your face. “What hurts? What is it?” Changbin starts frantically checking you for injuries…your head, arms, torso…nothing. Until he reaches your legs. He gathers the fabric of your dress in his hands to check your legs and a shaky gasp leaves his lips. You look down and any amount of air you’d been able to gather in your lungs leaves.

Where your legs should be, there is a navy blue tail. A mermaid tail.

Changbin looks up at you, his mouth open in shock. “You’re…you…you can’t breathe!” he realizes, jumping up to his feet and rounding on Hyunjin. “What did you DO TO HER?!” he bellows this time. Before Hyunjin has a chance to answer, there’s a loud crack.

You look up, still gasping and only able to draw small breaths. Blood is pouring down Hyunjin’s face-Changbin has broken his nose. You’re suddenly being picked up-Changbin is carrying you to the ocean at a jog. Once you reach the shoreline, he slows as he wades out into the water with you. Once you’re submerged up to your chest, you gasp in a large breath…the feeling of stabbing needles is gone, and you’re able to regulate your breathing.

“Are you okay?” Changbin whispers, eyes wide.

You nod as the waves lap against your arms. “I always wanted to be a mermaid when I was little.” Changbin lets out a choked laugh at your response.

“Well, for what it’s worth, your tail is also very pretty…I’ve never seen a navy blue one.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck at the compliment. “You’re getting embarrassed? After you were turned into a mermaid?! You’re awfully calm for someone who should be panicking…” You lean back in his arms, and notice he seems to be the one panicking.

You shrug. “I’m with you. Why would I panic?” you say simply. Tears gather and spill onto his cheeks.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he murmurs into your hair.

“Nothing. I chose you. And you deserve to be chosen.”

Changbin smiles and gently lowers you into the water, still holding your hands as he leads you out to deeper waters where you can swim comfortably.

“I choose you too. Mermaid or human,” he smiles, and you smile back. “But…we should probably figure out a way to turn you back. Your family will miss you too much.”

“...I think I can help with that.” A small voice reaches the two of you, and you look back to see Hyunjin slowly wading towards you.

“I think you’ve done quite enough for a whole lifetime, don’t you?” Changbin spits harshly, and Hyunjin flinches as he reaches you.

“I have…but I think I know how this can be fixed. And not with my magic.”

Changbin raises a brow, skeptical. “Let him talk,” you urge, laying a gentle hand on Changbin’s arm.

“Thanks.” Hyunjin sends a small smile your way. “I think I know how to fix this. No magic…well, none of mine anyway.”

“So whose, then? Chan? We are not bringing him into this…though I’m sure he’d love to know what you’ve been up to.”

“Not mine, not Chan’s…yours.”

“What do you mean, mine? I don’t have any magic, you know that!” Changbin’s voice raises with each sentence, more and more exasperated.

“I think you might with the compass,” Hyunjin says simply. “I know before you weren’t that interested in it, but I think that maybe has changed.” He looks over at you knowingly, and holds out his hand to his brother.

Changbin reaches out and Hyunjin drops a small brass compass into his hand.

“How does it work?”

“As far as I’ve figured out, it’s almost like all those fairytales we read when we were kids. You just need to close your eyes and think about whatever your heart’s desire is.”

Changbin looks at you with worry clouding his face. “What if it doesn’t work?” he whispers.

“What if it does?” You cup his cheeks in your hands and meet his lips with yours.

He smiles softly at you. “No matter what…I love you.” You gasp and he laughs. “Are you really that surprised?”

“I guess not,” you laugh, capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Ahem,” Hyunjin interrupts you, motioning towards the compass in Changbin’s hands.

“Right…I guess I’ll see you on the other side then.” Changbin closes his eyes and furrows his brow in concentration. There is silence for a moment, then the compass starts spinning, slowly at first, then furiously.

You exchange a nervous glance with Hyunjin, and when you look back at Changbin, there is a golden glow emitting from the compass as it continues to spin. As you watch, the glow gets brighter and brighter, until you have to cover your face and turn away.

After a few moments, the glow dies down enough for you to look back at Changbin. He opens his eyes tentatively. “Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “Your tail?” You lean back to float on your back, and to your surprise, your feet breach the surface of the water instead of the tail that was there a minute before. A huge smile breaks across Changbin’s face and he leans back as well, his feet next to yours.

At the sight, he pulls them back under him, spluttering as he accidentally swallows water in surprise. “I still have feet!” he manages to get out between coughs.

“What did you think about?” Hyunjin asks.

“I just thought about things being the way they should be.” Changbin’s voice is laced with confusion. “I figured it would turn her back into a human, but I thought I would be a merman again too.”

“Maybe you should be human. With her.” Hyunjin smiles, gesturing to you. Changbin’s eyes follow the motion and light up when he meets your eyes.

“I mean, I kinda hoped…but I didn’t want to try my luck or anything.” You’re smiling so hard it’s hurting your cheeks, even though you have tears running down your face.

“I get to keep you…I was so scared I was going to eventually lose you,” you confess. Changbin closes the gap between you, grabbing your hand and leading you to shallower water where he proceeds to lift and spin you in his arms.

“You’re never getting rid of me now,” he smirks and you giggle into the kiss he lands on your mouth as he gently places you back on the sand.

You wrap your arms around Changbin and sway slowly with him under the light of the stars.

“I’m so happy I get to be with you. For as long as you’ll have me.” Changbin smiles at your statement, burying his head in your neck and placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Also, I forgot to tell you earlier…”

He raises his head and looks at you curiously.

“...I love you too.”

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