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koqabear · 10 months

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「 Camera Shy 」

♫: Automatic, Red Velvet // Movie Star, CIX // Color Me, JUNNY // Kitty Cat, KISS OF LIFE

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

camboy!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Genre: f2l, smut, pw/minimal plot

Word count: 14.4K (there’s like three different smut scenes here)

Warnings: gyu has a thing for glasses idk don’t question me, (mc wears glasses, not necessarily prescription), gyu is lowkey manipulative if u squint, slight possessiveness on his part? nothing toxic (i think), alcohol consumption, gyu has a tattoo..

smut warnings: gyu is a bit of a perv! mean dom!Beomgyu, sub!mc, masturbation (f&m), filmed sex, (consensual), dirty talk, degrading, use of toys (f&m rec.), exhibitionism, voyeurism technically, bit of a voice/hand kink? slight humiliation kink, mentions of safe words & subspace, mentions of squirting lmao, manhandling, spanking, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, dry humping, handcuffing, biting, unprotected sex, dumbification, dacryphilia, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: lemme tell you. i wrote abt the tattoo before i stumbled upon that pic, when i tell you i was just ??? barely proof-read heehee. the thought of this au hit me like a that-so-raven vision, and I literally spent the whole day making sure I could finish this. enjoy bc i love camboy aus sm. (oh and pls, do me a favor and reblog— i have an ominous feeling about what’ll happen to this fic once i post it.)

Beomgyu has always found the idea of his work a bit ridiculous.

Day by day, he’s a normal college student— he spends his early mornings in classes, taking all the morning slots everyone was always reluctant to enroll in before he went off to work; he was known as that cute server amongst the women that visited the restaurant he worked at, able to upsell and gain tips with ease as he quickly became a favorite amongst his coworkers.

He liked the attention— of course he did, he needed to in order to thrive in the field of his actual job, his hours at the restaurant nothing but a side hustle compared to the hundreds he could make of a single stream.

Those hundreds could always breach into the thousands— but those were on especially good days, like his annual Valentine’s Day stream he always held for his lonely, single viewers.

Beomgyu was quite the sweet talker— he got the practice from his day-to-day shifts, watching girls his age and older fawn at his words and flutter their eyes playfully. It was clear they enjoyed the attention just as much as he did, a cute smile on his face as he faked a shy laugh whenever they would compliment him.

Your hair looks really nice today. You smell amazing. Do you work out? You have a really nice voice.

He got that last compliment a lot.

“Do I?” he would purr, a sultry smile crawling on his face each time, like a practiced action as he would tilt his head teasingly— the reaction would be positive each time, without fail, and he would always end up with a collection of napkins with scrawled phone numbers every time he would clock out— his coworkers would poke fun at him every time they watched him dump them all out apathetically.

You weren’t into that one person? Dude, the lady at table seven was so fucking hot.

Beomgyu never really paid mind to their teasing— he could care less for the men and women that tried to butter him up during his shifts, forced to act as though their shameless flirting didn’t make his stomach twist unpleasantly— instead, he would be forced to smile, laughing sheepishly before he would slip away with one last comment.

“I’m flattered, really— but, I have someone I’m interested in.”

That someone was you— the pretty girl that sat across from him during his ten am lecture, finding himself spacing out every time and staring off into your direction; though you never seemed to notice, much too caught up in taking notes as he watched the way your brows would furrow, biting at your lip and adjusting your glasses as you remained focused— whether those glasses were for reading, blue light, prescription, or even decoration, he didn’t care— all he cared about was how unnecessarily attractive you looked in them.

He thought about you more than he liked to admit— it was frustrating at first, his thoughts starting as nothing more than puppy love to something worse— it was only after you piqued his interest that he began streaming more.

This was both a good and bad thing; good because, well, he began to climb the ranks of popularity and earn more, but bad because he would find himself thinking of you. Each. And every. Time.

“Wish I could fuck you,” he would sigh out, his comments going too fast for him to keep up with as his eyes fluttered shut; leaning back against his headboard, he shifts, making sure everything but his lips remain out of frame before he’s back to closing his eyes, “would you let me make you feel good? God, I’d do anything just to feel you, taste you…”

As far as his audience knows, he’s speaking to them— the comments grow wild and tips flood in, all asking him to stop being a tease as they watch the way he palms himself through his sweatpants; grabbing at his length, stroking it slowly as he lets his imagination run wild.

He’s not wearing boxers; Beomgyu knows it drives his viewers mad, able to see as a wet spot begins to form on the light material, his tip leaking furiously as his other hand tugs the hem of his sweater over his chest— his vision is hazy as he reads the requests, laughing softly as he allows his fingers to trace along his chest absentmindedly— tracing over the muscle of his abdomen, circling his nipples slowly as he reads a comment under his breath.

Stop teasing and hurry up already !! >///<

The comment has him rolling his eyes— yet his usual tippers begin to request the same thing, and his hand is slowly tugging at the tied strings of his pants as he smiles, mocking and mean as he bites his lip.

“Hurry up? You want to command me while you’re over here throwing money at me like a whore? All just to watch me fuck myself, dreaming that it could be you?”

The comments start speeding up; it’s all a blur to him, but the sound of money coming in is enough to tell him that his usual audience is active again.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, his voice deep and grumbly as he reads over the requests that come in with the money: yes, i wish it were me there… please, can we see your cock?

“Desperate little sluts,” Beomgyu hums, tugging his waistband down and allowing his cock to spring up; it smacks against his stomach, and though the people in his comments attempt to regain his attention with dirty words and useless requests, he knows it’s all because of you— guiltily, he finds his thoughts straying the moment his hand wraps around his cock.

His streams have a certain formula to them; the more money, the better the show. Which is exactly why he ends up kneeling in front of the camera, fucking his cock into a clear flashlight as he listens to the sounds of tips coming in left and right— but his eyes remained shut, spilling enough filth to have his audience satisfied as he allows to let his imagination run wild.

In every stream, he cums to the thought of you; he has to bite his lip to not moan out your name like a pathetic bitch in heat, flooding his fleshlight with cum and continuing to fuck into it until his next orgasm.

In every stream, he finds himself thinking the same thought at least once— do you watch his streams?

»»»

The concept of camboys is ridiculous to you.

Why in the world would you spend all your money and emotions on a single person, when you can just go on Twitter and find the next best account that has yet to be suspended? Well, it’s not as though you find the idea of sex work appalling, but you don’t think you’d ever feel good about yourself spending a hard-earned paycheck because you were horny.

You’re not stupid; you know sex workers make bank, and you know that there are people in the world that love emptying out their bank accounts to such workers; whether it’s due to a kink or to feed into their parasocial relationship, you’re not sure.

You find that a good session on Twitter and your fingers usually does the trick— maybe a toy or two, if you find yourself feeling that needy.

Today’s session quickly becomes both disappointing and humbling; every account you try to look for has either been suspended or deleted, and every video you come across is something that’s not to your taste or something you’ve seen many, many times.

You feel weak as you come across the same account again; guiltypleasures— and he’s damn right, because you’re unable to resist the urge to click on his icon, feeling your thighs rub together with impatience as you sit back in bed— scrolling through, you’re surprised to see that he’s posted another video— without a second thought, you’re watching it.

“Fucking pathetic,” he sighs out, the familiar growled phrase making you gulp; you never found yourself to be too attracted to men who are extremely dominating and mean, but the man on your screen is somehow able to make it work as you find yourself getting wetter, “are you touching yourself right now? Don’t you wish I was there with you?”

And shit, you think you know why he’s able to make you come back to him every time, even if he’s posted nothing new and you’re forced to rewatch old videos most of the time; maybe it’s because of his hands, delicate and thin as they wrap around his favorite pocket pussy, or maybe it’s the way he slowly fucks into the said toy; stretching it out, his tip poking out and oozing enough cum that you can hear the wet squelching sounds that come from every thrust.

Or maybe, it’s his voice, deep and breathy and addicting as he mumbles out filthy things like it’s the only thing he knew how to do; his lips are red and swollen as he groans, hissing through his teeth as you watch the way his hands tighten around his toy.

“Shit, I’d fuck you so good,” he sighs out, hips rutting into the toy in his hands as he laughs; his head tilts, and though you’re only able to see his lips, you know his eyes are teasing as he looks into the camera, “fuck you so that you’d never want anyone else but me.”

His thrusts are picking up— you didn’t even realize the moment you began touching yourself, embarrassing whimpers and breaths falling from your lips as you keep your eyes honed in on his motions; you’re close, so close, your ministration speeding up as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“You’d be my good little cumdump, just for me to use— right?”

The video ends shortly after.

God damn it! your mind screams, the sudden cut-off catching you so off guard that you completely ruined your orgasm; you feel insanely embarrassed by how frustrated you feel, not realizing how short the clip he posted was until now. Clicking away, you feel as though your mood is ruined as you read the contents of his tweet.

A small clip from the stream. Watch the rest here: https://…..

Shit. Of course he would be a camboy. How did you not realize this sooner?

Honestly, if you sounded like that, you would be one too— and frustratingly enough, the brief cutoff is a damn good marketing strategy, because after a moment of thought, you’re clicking on the link.

You could just rewatch the video— you could also just go rewatch his previous videos, or even use your imagination to help you finish— but the idea of doing so is much more unpleasant than usual. (And humiliating, because you’ve found with horror that you’ve begun to memorize how his previous, equally as short, clips go.)

Your resolve begins to weaken the moment you click on his page— because of course, everything costs money— It costs to see his previous streams, costs to message him, and costs to get a fucking membership.

Who is paying for all this?!

You, apparently— because after some serious, slightly horny-impaired thought, you decide that getting a low-tier membership wouldn’t be too bad, right?

The cost is monthly (because of course it is, this website seems to want to charge you for just looking at his page) and you wince slightly as you watch your transaction go through.

Once you see the notification of your purchase pop up on your phone, you feel dreadfully sobered.

Because shit, being a low-tier subscriber only gets you a part of his most recent streams— about less than half of it, you notice— only able to get full access to streams prior to this month. It’s enough for now, but you can’t help but feel as though you’ve become the very thing you’ve despised as you lay back in your bed, staring at your ceiling for a moment before you’re sighing.

You’re still horny.

»»»

You think you can get behind the whole camboy thing. One may say you’ve been swayed, and quite honestly, you don’t think you could dispel such claims at this point.

Because it’s been a few months, and you’ve managed to stay through the whole thing. You’re surprised that you’ve begun to keep his streaming times in mind as you go about your day, ending your study sessions early or wondering if you’ll get home from work in time to watch his streams.

You always do. Maybe it’s a deity above making sure you get your money’s worth, or maybe it’s the fact that guiltypleasures is a human too, with a normal life and better shit to do than sit in front of a camera and jerk off all day.

The idea of following in his footsteps has crossed your mind more often than you expected; anything would be better than being a hostess at this god-awful job you have, forced to sit through the way people take out their anger on you and proceed to flirt with the servers— one of those servers being Beomgyu.

You were able to realize how popular Beomgyu was after your second shift— it didn’t take a genius to figure out why as you were left to deal with the way women of your age and older (mostly older. So many older women.) would creep up to you shyly, putting up a front of innocence as they asked you is Beomgyu here today? Could we sit in his area, please?

Seeing him rack up tips after a busy shift is always enough to have you wondering if you should switch to being a server— but then you see the way the women are treated, your stomach flipping in disgust at the way men leer and comment at them— you’ve even seen Beomgyu get cursed at plenty of times as well, shivering at the jealous partners and the way they’ve been blacklisted for threatening him.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’ve clocked out, shrugging on your jacket and gathering your belongings when you see Beomgyu storm in through the employee entrance; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him angry, but the sight has your eyes widening as you watch the way he frowns at his uniform, cursing angrily under his breath as he approaches the break table you stand by.

“Fuck,” he hisses, low and breathy and mean as he continues complaining, berating the customer that had the audacity to throw their drink at him— but you, in your very depraved state, remain stuck on the way he sounds, his voice far too attractive for a person who is spouting out filth.

This feels familiar.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask softly, feeling awkward as you mentally slap yourself for your train of thought; it seems as though Beomgyu hadn’t even realized you were there, his head snapping up as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights— his mood is immediately shifting as he sends you a sweet smile, acting as though his clothes aren’t soaked as he waves you off causally.

“Yeah. Just some ridiculous customers,” he says, laughing softly as he grabs at a pile of napkins on the table; you wince as you watch him scrub roughly at the stains, unable to stop yourself as you jump to his aide.

“Here, you’ll only get the stains in deeper if you do that,” you say, taking the napkin from his hands as you begin to dab at his uniform without much thought; you’re much closer than you should be to someone you’ve never really talked to, but you don’t seem to realize it as Beomgyu practically forgets to breathe from your proximity.

Shit, how did he find himself in this situation? He might as well go back out and thank the jealous, “tough guy” boyfriend that threw his drink at Beomgyu, because he feels as though every guilty fantasy is coming back to mind as he takes in your concentrated expression, your hand placed firmly on his chest for support as the other dabs at the stains in his uniform.

You smell so good. Even though you’ve been in the restaurant just as long as him and have been around food this whole time, he’s still able to pick up on your scent with every shaky breath he takes.

You’re wearing your glasses, too.

Beomgyu’s mind is wandering off to dangerous places; he knows he needs to get himself under control, because the danger of him popping a boner just from how close you are is a higher probability than he’d like to admit. It seems as though you’re snapping out of your trance the moment he clears his throat, your face growing hot and slightly horrified as you jump back; Beomgyu can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at the sight, finding your embarrassment oddly endearing.

“Sorry, got carried away,” you say, smiling shakily as you take in the way Beomgyu practically beams at you— always a sweet, nice guy, waving you off without a problem as he laughs softly.

“No, it seems to have helped,” he says, and you can’t help but notice how oddly charismatic he is even now, during this mundane interaction that has you stuttering over your words stupidly— but to be fair, how are you supposed to give him advice on how to get the stains out when he’s looking at you with the cutest god damn puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, his brown eyes round and sparkly as he listens intently to every word you say?

“I wouldn’t have thought to do that,” he smiles, his cheeks puffing up cutely and oh, is it weird that you want to coo at how cute he is and pinch his cheeks…?

Definitely weird, you decide, letting out a soft laugh as he tells you that he’ll try it as soon as he gets home.

“Speaking of which, I’ll let you go; you probably don’t want to be here longer than necessary,” Beomgyu is so kind and considerate even as you tell him it’s fine and that you didn’t have any plans after work anyway.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as Beomgyu asks you to wish him luck, the smile he sports coy as you follow his command without any hesitation— you take this as your chance to leave before things get awkward, but a part of you itches to go back and talk to him more.

Beomgyu’s good, you realize as you’re exiting the building, a bewildered laugh escaping you as you realize that he managed to charm you just from that short interaction.

You get why he’s so popular.

»»»

Any plans to go to bed early and rest are immediately thrown out the minute your phone buzzes beside you.

You were just about to put your laptop away— just on the verge of falling asleep, until your eyes reluctantly drifted to read the words that take over your screen— it’s a Twitter notification, the username making your eyes widen as you’re scrambling to unlock your phone and read the rest.

guiltypleasures

had a shitty shift today, let me take it out on you? https://…….

Oh. oh, oh lord… you can feel the exhaustion lifted off in an instant; suddenly, you’re wide awake, eyes widening as you quickly copy the link of his tweet into your browser— while your mind scolds you for trying to stay up and possibly ruining your sleep schedule, the other, much more sinister part of it tells you that you’re paying for a reason.

The stream starts in five minutes.

While you wait anxiously in your room, your hands swiftly going to your nightstand to take out some toys— your trusty vibrator and a dildo you recently bought, all because of him— Beomgyu paces around his setup, gathering his own toys and changing into something that the viewers might like; today's ensemble is a bit more bothersome than usual, but he knows how much his viewers like when he dresses up and role plays a bit with them.

He was tired; today's shift took a toll on him, and he’d rather be fast asleep than putting on a stream— but after looking at today's earnings, he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied with it all, deciding on impulse that he would put on a stream to make up for his lack of tips— instead, he’ll earn tips in another way.

“Hey,” he starts quietly, sitting back in his seat as he takes a glance at his monitor, making sure his face is out of frame. The viewer count rises and comments flood in no time, all of them freaking out about how good he looks in the suit he wears; the all-black ensemble feels stifling to him, but he knows taking it off will be worth it in the end.

Bad day today? Let us make you feel better :(

His top tippers are all begging for his attention, desperate and needy as always as they beg for him to get started— but he feels a lot more sluggish than usual, his gloved hands caressing his thighs slowly as he reads the comments out loud.

“Yeah, today’s shift wasn’t that great,” he speaks, his voice deep and sultry as he allows a moment to pass, reading all the comments that beg for him to use them, “I only thought about you though. Just wanted to see you.”

There he goes again— he’s no longer talking to his audience, but to you instead, closing his eyes and imagining a world where you’re in front of him, or even on the other side of this screen, one of the many faces that lusts over the way his cock begins to harden, the bulge becoming much more apparent as he lets his mind wander.

Unbeknownst to him, you are on the other side of your screen; a shy and flustered mess as you shift in your bed, watching the comments fly by as you wonder if you should join in— not that you could, anyway, your low-tier subscription excluding you from doing such things, as ridiculous as it is.

You’re practically devouring the man on your screen with your eyes; taking in the way he’s dressed, his pretty hands covered with leather gloves as he runs them slowly over his black trousers; stopping as they run back to his hips, a hand beginning to palm at his bulge as he spreads his legs a little wider in his chair— today's setup is a bit different, along with his attitude as he seems to sweet talk the audience more than usual.

“Seeing you is the only good part of my day,” he sighed, his free hand trailing up his chest before it stops at his tie— he’s tugging at it, loosening it and allowing it to hang around his neck as he continues, “Can’t stop thinking about how much I want you, how I’d fuck you until all you can remember is my name.”

The offer is tempting; you groan a little as you watch him begin to slide off his blazer, throwing it to the side before he’s unbuttoning his white shirt— he’s making quick work to become undressed, you notice, untucking the material and undoing his belt as the sounds of it jingling ring out in the room.

Yet, no one knows his name— no one knows anything about him, except the tattoo that runs across his side as he slides off his shirt, the sharp, elegant lines running all along his ribs, trailing down to his hip bones and disappearing under his pants— the rest of him remaining a mystery as you’re left to lust over a nameless, faceless stranger.

That’s probably where the appeal comes from; you’re able to imagine anything about him, from what his face looks like to what he may do when the cameras are off; you’re free to mold him into the perfect fantasy, using him and projecting onto him as you watch him slowly unzip his pants, a hand slipping under as he begins to jerk himself off teasingly, slow as always as he waits for the requests to come in— like clockwork, your eyes fall to the end of his tattoo, taking in the cute heart that rests by his hip bone, the ending of the elaborate piece that always has you wondering what it’d be like to see in person.

“Hmm? You want more?” he says, tilting his head slightly as he smiles; it’s mocking as always, biting into his lip as he begins to roll his hips into his hand— making a show out of it, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy moan that has you shivering.

“How about you show me just how much you want it,” he sighs out, smiling evilly as tips begin to come in left and right as a response; you find the way he’s able to manipulate the audience impressive, always able to get them to blow their money on him without hesitation.

He leans forward, towards the screen, and you’re able to admire his lips as he reads the comments, mouthing them as the lights cast a glow on his pretty, pouty mouth, his neck tempting and begging to be marked as you watch the way he displays it so teasingly.

“Good girl,” he laughs softly, your eyes flickering to the comment section for a moment; his top tipper has spent an egregious amount on him yet again, and you listen to the way he softly begins to fulfill her request, the rest of the audience momentarily disappearing as he begins to speak to her.

“Always such an obedient thing for me, hmm? Tell me, what do you want to see?”

His manipulation is seamless as he watches another tip flood in; all from the same person, the amount doubled in order to get his attention past all the others that blow a measly twenty on him, nothing compared to the three hundred that is highlighted in gold, the comment momentarily pinned for the man to read it.

I want you to fuck your favorite fleshlight and use a vibrator while you think of me. Can you moan my name please? It’s—

Her comment has your eyes widening for a second; it’s bold and demanding, and the idea of requesting such a thing from the camboy in front of you is daunting as you read her request over and over— your face feels hot and you’re already taking off your sweatpants from how needy you are, wondering if the man on your screen will accept such a request.

The first two are nothing to him— in fact, it’s more on the tamer side as he already finds himself reaching for the aforementioned toys.

The problem lies in the last request.

He’s not one to moan names on a live stream; he usually saves it for personal requests he gets, the videos much more personal and calculated as he gets to take his time with them— so for his top tipper to request such a thing on his livestream is a bit more difficult; especially when he spends this time thinking of you.

But then again, it’s three hundred dollars.

“Okay then, is that what you want? Hmm?” he teases softly, purring out her name at the end as he watches the way she tips him again; it has him laughing in amusement, sitting back in his chair before he’s crossing his arms over his chest, singing out her name with a soft lilt as he watches the way she continues to pour money at him like it’s nothing.

Soon enough, more requests come in; all with the same amount and request, hoping that they’ll be able to hear their names fall from his lips as he slowly begins to tug down his pants, raising his hips as he’s left in nothing but his underwear, the briefs straining painfully as his cock twitches, begging to be free.

“One at a time,” he murmurs sweetly, patronizing as he mumbles that it’s her turn now, watching the way she seems to react with every purr of her name.

The sudden trend of requests makes his stream slightly difficult; he’s always found himself to be a lot more into them when he’s mentally moaning out your name, lips ghosting over the syllables every time he’s coming undone. Instead, he’s forced to moan out the name of a stranger as he begins to palm himself slowly, even though his mind thinks back to you and the small interaction you had today.

He feels his cock twitch at the mere thought. It’s painfully hard and won’t stop leaking as he takes it out, not needing to use any lubricant as he begins stroking it slowly, hips jumping at the feeling of the leather against his skin— and though his lips moan another’s name, his eyes remain closed, thinking about you.

You and your meek personality, always letting guests take out their anger on you before they’re turning around and sucking up to Beomgyu— he’s always had to resist the urge to fuck them up as a response, knowing that you think no one else notices your sullied mood and your crestfallen gaze every time they seem to get away with it.

He’s never free to comfort you. You’re both far too busy to be around each other for longer than a few minutes, and today was like a blessing as he caught you at just the right time— he would have stayed the rest of his shift back there talking to you, if only he hadn’t been playing the part of a sweet, considerate guy.

He thinks back to how you felt against him. How, even though your actions were innocent and you were much more focused on taking out the stain of his uniform, he still felt the warmth of your hand against his chest, delicate and smaller than his as you leaned in close enough to allow himself to get a whiff of your sweet scent.

And those glasses.

He never thought he would find himself hung up on such an item, but the way they make your eyes look big and sparkly is practically enough to make him cum on the spot. Instead, he grabs a hold of his newest fleshlight, soft and tight, just how he imagines you would be.

It’s perverted, but as he slides his cock into the tight sleeve, groaning slightly at how he’s barely able to push through, he imagines that it’s you. His mind begins to wonder what it would be like if you were above him right now, your thighs encasing his and your pussy leaking onto his cock as he fucked into you without abandon.

As he turns on his vibrator, running it along his balls and letting out pathetic moans, he imagines what it would be like to use it on you while he fucked you, imagining the way your tits would bounce and your eyes would squeeze shut as he made you cum until you were unable to hold yourself up.

On the other side of the screen, you imagine the same thing. Your legs are shaking and you’re fighting to keep your eyes open as you follow the pace he’s set, pressing your vibrator firmly against your clit and letting out weak whimpers at the sensation. You try to ignore the way he calls out the same name over and over, wondering instead what it would be like to hear your name from his lips— the sound is ringing throughout your mind the moment you imagine it, burying your face into your pillow as you increase the intensity of your toy.

“Let me fill you up, want you dripping with my cum,” he growls out, the sloppy sounds of his thrusts only spurring you on as your thighs close around your hand, hips grinding into your dildo as you sink your teeth into your lip ruthlessly— it’s almost enough to draw blood as you watch the way he cums into his toy, hips continuing to rut into the it even long after he’s come, a white ring forming at the base as he turns the vibrator off from the overstimulation.

“_— Shit,” Beomgyu almost slipped up for a second, proceeding to moan out his requested name repeatedly as a distraction.

And you know you’re imagining it, but you’re briefly coming undone after that, your pussy tightening against your dildo and your legs shaking as you run your vibrator along your clit, imagining that it’s him inside you, that he’s currently spilling his load in your cunt— your mind swearing that you almost heard your name slip from his lips for a second— and it isn’t until you recover from your orgasm, the sound of another name leaving his lips repeatedly making you come to, that you realize it was your brain playing trick on you to help you get off.

But you weren’t imagining things.

Beomgyu hopes his audience didn’t pick up on his small mistake, but he’s relieved to see that they’re none the wiser as they continue to request to hear their name next.

“Let’s see…” he says, and you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you watch the way he leans towards the camera again, reading requests off the monitor as he grinds his hips into his toy absentmindedly throughout it.

He’s barely getting started.

In turn, so are you.

»»»

Beomgyu is the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

After your brief conversation at the restaurant, you quickly found yourself talking to him more often.

It turned into him sitting next to you during the one class you shared, your friendship growing stronger day by day as you got to know him better.

He acts like a puppy; he’s so sweet and kind, his voice soft and endearing every time he spoke to you— and, like a stark contrast to the flirty and outgoing guy you saw during your shifts at the restaurant, he was very shy, ever the gentleman as he always treated you with nothing but kindness.

“Good morning,” Beomgyu hums, sitting in the seat next to yours before he’s placing down a cup of coffee, “I got this for you. I already finished mine, but I thought you might like some too.”

Sweet gestures like these were common with him; despite your insistence that he really didn’t need to, he always did it anyway, ever the charming man as he sent you a cute smile that would have you unable to say no.

“Hey, I heard you’re friends with Yeonjun?” you ask, reluctantly accepting the drink after he insisted that you didn’t need to feel bad; your lips are curving into a small smile as you take a drink, stomach flipping at the realization that it was your usual order— you’re surprised he was able to remember it after the first time you got coffee together.

Beomgyu nods in confirmation. You’re a bit surprised by his answer, unable to see the two be friends due to their contrasting personalities. You can tell that he’s curious as to why you’re asking as he pouts slightly— a habit he always does when he’s confused— and you’re quick to swallow down your drink and give him context.

“He’s having a party this weekend. I was wondering if you’re going?” you say, and Beomgyu feels his stomach drop slightly; not because you were going— well, not entirely, at least— but because if you were going, you’d definitely end up seeing a different side of him. And after seeing how fond you are of his puppy-like behavior, he dreads seeing your reaction to a much more reckless side of him.

“I… think so,” he says sheepishly, wondering what kind of excuse he should make to not go— but he pauses, seeing the way you pout at him, grabbing his arm desperately as you lean into him as you plead.

“You should go— pleeeasee? Yeonjun’s parties are super over the top and he always invites hella people, I don’t wanna be there alone.”

You have this man wrapped around your finger; with one look at your face, your gaze sweet and pleading as you cutely pout at him expectantly, he finds himself agreeing, unable to fight back a smile as he watches the way you cheer triumphantly, quieting down the moment the lecture starts.

Beomgyu will definitely have to be careful this weekend— but seeing you will be worth it, even if he’s risking the chance of potentially changing the way you’ll view him forever.

»»»

You have yet to see Beomgyu.

The party started hours ago, yet you’ve only been present for a few as you’ve already both greeted and lost Yeonjun, forced to mingle with people you barely know as you all hang out in his backyard— because lord knows how packed and stuffy the place would’ve been if he held it inside.

You currently find yourself playing cup pong, teaming with the girl in your communications class as you go against two strangers— Yunjin is much friendlier and outgoing when she’s drunk, cheering you on and yelling triumphantly with every ball you get in— you’ve barely had anything to drink as a result, and Yunjin is eager to fix that as she hands you a small shot cup; you’re hesitant at first, only accepting it after she explains that it isn’t strong at all, the soju mixed in with other things as she tells you you’ll barely feel it.

It’s not that you’re a lightweight that would get drunk off one shot, but you’d rather not get shit-faced when you have yet to find Beomgyu; your eyes scan over the place once more after you take the shot, Yunjin’s cheers falling deaf onto your ears as you allow the team in front of you have their turn.

“Drinking already?”

Beomgyu has snuck up on you successfully— you’re flinching in surprise as you feel his hand fall gently on the small of your back, leaning in close so he’s properly able to speak to you over the music.

Beomgyu feels as though looking at you is a sin; he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes off you, listening to the way you ramble into his ear about how happy you are to see him, your head tilting back and exposing the column of your neck to him to get him to hear you.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he comments, oddly hung up on it as he watches the way your smile only widens.

“Yeah, didn’t feel like it,” you say lightheartedly, leaning back against Beomgyu and finding comfort in the position that allows the two of you to speak over the booming music.

Unbeknownst to you, he takes this moment to drink in your appearance. The white, oversized button-up you wear is left completely open as it drapes over your figure, the light blue denim shorts entirely too tempting as they ride up your thighs, much too short to even cover you properly— but of course, that’s the look you were going for, leaving your bottoms unbuttoned and folded down as you allow your bikini to peek through— the color is flattering on your skin, and Beomgyu wonders if he’ll be strong enough to resist you, eyes flickering over to the pool that’s filled with plenty of people as a distraction.

“You wanna go in?” you ask, and Beomgyu realizes you’ve followed his line of sight, shaking his head quickly in response. You laugh, turning around briefly as you listen to the sounds of Yunjin telling you that you have to drink— you freely down the shot in the plastic cup this time, much more at ease now that Beomgyu is around— and turn back to him, pulling at his shirt slightly as you take in his attire.

“Come on, you’re definitely dressed for the part!”

And that much was true— though he realized halfway through his drive here that doing so would not be a good idea, especially if he wanted to keep up this cute, innocent act of his.

“It’s too full right now,” he says, his excuse valid as you study the pool for a moment— only to agree, turning back to the game as you tell Beomgyu to cheer for you with a cheeky smile.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to get tipsy— all because you made the mistake of trusting Yunjin to play properly during her turn, missing entirely and proceeding to get the two of you obliterated after she went against one of the guys on the opposite team (Jake, he later told you.)— but you’re quick to make sure to bring Beomgyu down with you, handing him every other shot you get as you tell him he’s now on your team.

What you don’t seem to realize is that Beomgyu is not a lightweight— far from it, watching with amusement as you slowly begin to get tipsy, your mouth loosening and your personality becoming much more outgoing after losing the game to Jake and his friend— three times in a row.

“Again?” you ask, laughing at the way Yunjin yells in agreement— Beomgyu has to tug on your shirt to get you away, telling you that it’s definitely not a good idea to go again, especially with someone as uncoordinated as Yunjin.

“Why didn’t you play with me then?” you say, leaning against him as you smile up at him prettily; he’s leading you away from the table and towards the grass, over to where a small campfire is lit, plenty of chairs scattered about as the music becomes louder in this area.

“You don’t like games?” you ask him, stumbling to a stop and tugging at his shirt to stop with you, just so he’s able to hear you better. Coyly, you smile, your eyes twinkling mischievously as you lean in to speak to him quietly, “Don’t you wanna play with me?”

Your words are fairly innocent— but your delivery is not, and it has Beomgyu sputtering in surprise as he wonders how he should respond to such a random advance— though he doesn’t need to in the end, watching as you break character and laugh at your own antics, perking up immediately as you listen to the song that’s playing.

“Oh, I love this song!”

You’re dancing carelessly to the song without a second thought, pulling Beomgyu in and laughing at the way he seems reluctant to let loose; it’s probably the alcohol in your system that’s making you act like such an idiot, leaning against him and smiling at the way he seems adamant to avoid your gaze.

“You know, I just realized that we’re matching!” you laugh, tugging at the collar of his white button-up before you’re glancing down; it’s tucked neatly into his denim shorts, and your smile is only growing wider as you look back up at him, “we look like a couple or something.”

Your words affect him much more than he’d like to admit— but he has no time to dwell on it, eyes looking past you and at Yeonjun, who walks straight toward the two of you with a grin stuck on his face.

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Yeonjun yells, grabbing your attention as you’re turning to greet Yeonjun; you’re bubbly and seem to find everything funny as you giggle slightly, waving at him happily before you’re stepping away from Beomgyu.

“I couldn’t find you,” Beomgyu mumbles, watching the way Yeonjun slings an arm around your shoulders casually— he feels oddly angered at the sight, unsure why it irritates him so much to see the two of you act so close.

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” Yeonjun says, and he watches as you begin to ramble about your history with Beomgyu with a small smile— scanning your outfit, he frowns.

“You haven’t gotten in the pool yet?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow at your entirely dry figure; you shake your head, which only makes him tilt his head in confusion, “I thought you said that’s the only reason you were coming?”

“Well, I just haven’t gotten the chance to,” you say sheepishly, the shy smile on your face quickly turning to one of confusion the moment Yeonjun hugs you; he’s got you tight, and you’re stumbling along with him as you begin questioning what he’s doing, your eyes widening the moment you peek over his shoulder— you’re heading straight to the pool, the volume of your yells rising significantly as you begin to struggle against your friend, yelling at Beomgyu to come to your rescue.

(It’s all for dramatic effect. Yeonjun laughs at the way you pretend to struggle against him, and he pretends he doesn’t hear your laugh of joy the moment he falls over the edge, letting go of you in time and forcing the two of you into the water.)

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that the water isn’t freezing; you personally thank Yeonjun’s heating system as you come up for air, wiping at your face and adjusting your hair as you begin to splash Yeonjun, insulting him for being such a bully.

Your movements are immediately stopping the moment you spot Beomgyu at the edge— Yeonjun is quick to leave, sending you a small wink (the term “wink” used loosely) before he’s off to find his next target—he’s taken his shoes off and he looks more than ready to jump in, and you can’t help but laugh sweetly at his concern before you realize that you should probably take off your shoes as well.

“You okay?” He asks you, watching the way you cringe as you take off your shoes, tossing them over the edge and leaving them to dry as you swim to where he stands.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you smile, watching the way he seems hesitant to do anything— to get in or leave, you’re unsure. A second passes before an evil thought pops into your head, taking notice of your equally soaked clothes that remain stuck on your body.

“Oh. Hey, could you hold this?” you begin, shedding off your shirt before you’re bundling it into a ball, holding out the fabric for him— he crouches down, arm reaching out for your shirt— and you seize your moment, both hands grabbing onto him and tugging as hard as you can.

And Beomgyu, in his unguarded state, falls in immediately.

The laugh you let out is pure evil as you watch him fall in, flailing for a second before he’s coming up for air— and honestly, Beomgyu can’t even be mad, at least not when you’re laughing so hard, your face lit up as you take in the way his hair is completely flat on his head.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it,” you say, but you don’t look sorry at all as you swim over to your shirt that’s now sunk into the bottom of the pool. You’re diving down to get it, quick to throw it over the edge and by your shoes before you’re tugging off your shorts. You’re glancing back at Beomgyu, relieved to see he doesn’t look angry at all, when you spot something peculiar.

“Woah, what’s that?” you ask, approaching Beomgyu eagerly as he’s quick to follow your gaze. His cheeks are on fire and his hands are quick to fly onto his ribs, turning away from your curious hands and even more curious gaze as he stutters out an excuse.

“It’s nothing.” That’s probably one of the lamest things Beomgyu has ever said, and you’re not believing him for a second as your eyes widen at his sudden change in behavior.

“Is it a tattoo?” you ask, trying to get a peek through the cracks of his fingers; but the water makes everything blurry, unable to get the details of it before you’re humming appreciatively. “Hmm. That’s cool— I didn’t know that was such a common spot to get tattooed.”

“Is it?” he asks, and suddenly, he doesn’t seem to want to hide it anymore. Your curious gaze and awed compliments have him smiling, raising a brow as he feels himself become more confident— the idea that you of all people would judge him seems ridiculous now.

“Who else do you know that has a tattoo here?” you’re late to process the question— only because your eyes are widening as he admits that it is a tattoo, the words flying out of your mouth before you can truly process if it’s a good idea.

“I don’t know. I’ve just seen it online, I guess.” Of course, this could mean many things— but it means one thing to you, and you’re practically biting your tongue from the sheer terror that you inadvertently admitted to a guilty, secret pleasure of yours.

“Online?” he asks, and you try to not look suspicious as you choose to simply remain quiet and nod.

“Yeah, like on Pinterest and stuff,” you add, hoping that it’s enough to prove your innocence (to yourself) as you watch Beomgyu nod along to your words.

“Aren’t your clothes weighing you down?” you ask, eyeing the way he’s barely moved with a small smile, “or like, are you not wearing anything underneath?”

Most of the people here came with their swimsuits underneath— some just opted to strip to their underwear, which is why you didn’t feel alarmed to find people stripping their layers in order to jump into the pool.

Though, now that you think about it, you feel a bit bad for forcing Beomgyu to get in without much of a warning. Your concerns are quickly soothed, however, when Beomgyu shakes his head, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt before he’s laughing softly at your words.

“I was wearing my shorts underneath these,” he confesses, your eyes widening as you find yourself going silent— because wow, was Beomgyu always this ripped?

You feel odd as you watch him strip, sliding off his shirt as most of his torso remains underwater; he’s slowly making his way to where you stand by the edge, and you can feel your heart stopping as you take in the look in his eyes.

Dark. Dangerous. Tempting. You think you’re imagining things as you look away, gulping heavily as you feel yourself sobering suddenly. He’s throwing his shirt in the direction that your pile of clothes lie, and you feel oddly embarrassed by the way you have to look away as he strips his bottoms off as well.

You’re only glancing back in time to see him hover out of the pool for a second, his upper body coming out of the water as he takes a moment to lay out both your clothing properly.

Holy shit.

Was it common for people to have the same tattoo? It surely was, right? Those are the only things that are going through your mind as you observe Beomgyu’s tattoo, taking in the familiarity of each line as your eyes drift down to his v-line— your eyes spot the small, perfect heart that rests right at his pubic bone.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god oh god, you think, trying your best to not lose your shit and melt in a puddle of horror and embarrassment as you realize that Beomgyu has the exact tattoo as guiltypleasures.

It had to be a popular tattoo. Or maybe it was a reference to something, or a drawing a tattoo artist put out to let other people use— anything, it had to be anything else than the conclusion your mind was terrified of making, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze shyly as you realize that he’s caught you staring, hard.

“It’s pretty,” you breathe out, unsure you can trust your voice as you watch Beomgyu sink back into the pool, “Is it… a reference to something?”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Thanks,” he starts, leaving you on edge as he takes a moment to inspect his tattoo— running his fingertips over it, tracing over the delicate lines in a way that has you gripping onto the edge of the pool, “and no, it’s not. I designed it myself.”

You’re gonna pass out.

“Really?” you grit out, hoping he can’t pick up on the tension of your voice as you smile, albeit forced, “Like, it’s one of a kind?”

“Yup,” he grins, staring down at his tattoo with a proud look on his face, “One of a kind. My tattoo artist didn’t even post it, upon my request.”

You’re gonna cry. Maybe you’ll scream, or even sink into the pool and try to drown yourself.

Because Choi Beomgyu, your closest friend for the past few months and the man you may or may have not been beginning to crush on, is guiltypleasures, the man you lust after every night and fucking pay to watch.

You know they say that quiet guys are the freakiest, but this is too fucking much.

“That’s so cool,” you say, sinking into the pool so the water is up to your mouth, hoping that you won’t blurt out any more stupidities as you stare off into the distance, attempting to let this new information settle in.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, and you hate how attentive Beomgyu has become— even more because everything is starting to click, his husky and deep voice a replica of your stupid camboy’s, your body reacting involuntarily to the sound of it as you simply nod softly.

“Mhmm,” you hum out, coming out of the water a bit so you can speak, “I think those drinks from earlier fucked up my stomach— I should go home.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, and you feel awful for the way he’s become confused at your sudden shift in mood, “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving—?”

“I Ubered here,” you mumble, oddly embarrassed at your words, “cause I knew I’d probably drink a lot.”

“Well then let me take you home,” he insists, ever the gentleman as you try to say that he shouldn’t, that he should just stay and enjoy the party.

“It’s dangerous to call an Uber at this hour though,” he continues, his stupid fucking puppy eyes taking a toll on your resolve as you bite your lip, “Plus, I only really came to this party because of you.”

God, what the hell was this behavior?! This innocent, shy, and sweet Beomgyu was a complete one-eighty— scratch that— was an entirely different fucking person than the one that always talked down at you at night, spilling filth like it was in his nature and treating you like you were worthless.

It was a bit terrifying as you watched the way he remained entirely oblivious to the Earth-shattering realization, getting out of the pool and reaching out to help you out with a sweet smile.

After a second, you take it.

You feel so awkward as you gather your clothes; you’re jumpy and you’re sure Beomgyu has picked up on it as he eyes you from time to time, watching as you wring out your clothes as much as you can before you’re slipping on your shirt, your shorts left in your hand as you avoid Beomgyu’s eyes entirely.

“I have a few blankets in my car— you should use those to keep yourself warm,” he says softly, looking back at you and frowning at the way you only nod with a tense smile.

Was he wrong about you? Were you lying when you reacted positively to his tattoo? Beomgyu has no idea why something as simple as a tattoo would change the way you treat him entirely, but he’s determined to get to the bottom of this as you enter his car, entirely stiff as you wrap one of his aforementioned blankets around yourself.

“Hey, did something happen tonight?” He asks you halfway through his drive, licking his lips nervously as he watches the way you jump in your seat, not expecting his question at all as you remain silent for a second.

“Uhm, no?” you say, though you seem unsure of your own answer as you wrap the blankets a little tighter around yourself, “I’m telling you, it was probably the drinks— I didn’t think my stomach would be so sensitive tonight.”

Your explanation is entirely plausible, but Beomgyu doesn’t believe it as he watches the way you remain tense, his car slowing to a stop as the two of you wait at the stoplight in an awkward silence.

“You’re lying,” Beomgyu says, deciding that it’s better to just be bold instead of tiptoeing around the subject, “Is it because of my tattoo?”

Your lips press together.

“It is,” he says, and he feels an unexpected wave of disappointment and anger wash over him, “did something that small put you off that much?”

“That’s not it,” you say, your heart pounding against your chest and your body heating up as you realize that you’ve upset him— and greatly, because you’re able to see the way his brows knit together and his hand tightens on the steering wheel as he begins to drive again.

Did he think you were judging him? That you thought less of him because of such a small thing?

“Then what is it?” he insists, and you’re mortified to see that you’re stuck in traffic, victim to Beomgyu’s sharp gaze that demands answers, “Cause you’ve been acting weird since I showed it to you.”

“I’ve seen it before,” you mutter quietly, sinking into your seat from the humiliation, “I recognized it. Your tattoo.”

Beomgyu pauses. Then he thinks of the many times he’s had his shirt ride up when he’s around you, from stretching to taking off his hoodie and having his undershirt get pulled up along with it.

“Okay?”

“Like. Online.”

That’s enough to leave him silent. Stupefied, even. One glance at you and your body language is enough to confirm that it’s exactly what he’s thinking, your posture so small that you look like you wish you could disappear.

“You’ve—“ he swallows, wondering what else to say as traffic begins moving again, “like… Twitter—?”

“Your streams.”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, Beomgyu needs to get the fuck out of the car this instant, because his dick is already hardening and he can feel his brain short-circuiting at your words— you watch his streams.

In your mind, you feel as though you’ve completely dug a hole for yourself— Beomgyu is probably horrified at your confession, but it’s not as though you knew it was him, or that you had any malicious intent, or that—!

All Beomgyu can think of is how he shouldn’t park the car in the middle of the road and fuck you stupid.

“Did you watch them a lot?” he asks you, his voice eerily quiet and stable, and oh no he’s interrogating you right now, this is the end for you.

“Yeah,” you say, deciding to be completely transparent now that you’ve decided to tell the truth, “I’m sorry.”

Is it possible to come untouched like this? Beomgyu might just find out, because the way your voice is so meek and shy and guilty has him biting down on his lip, his mind growing foggier and his foot pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder as he begins to weave through lanes.

“You were a subscriber then,” he says calmly, and you feel as though he’s trying to humiliate you on purpose as you nod your head in admittance— unbeknownst to you, that’s exactly what he’s doing, enjoying the way he’s breaking you down from just a few questions with sick pleasure.

“How much money did you spend on me then?” You’re finding his line of questioning a bit odd at this point, but you refuse to look up from your lap as you find yourself answering anyways.

“I was just a low-tier subscriber…” you say, and it feels even more humiliating to admit that you cheaped out on him— what the hell was wrong with you?

“Low-tier? Not even a single tip?” he repeats, and you don’t seem to register the way he pouts at you until it’s far too late.

Stopping at a red light, he grabs your chin, turning your face roughly so you’re looking at him— and he’s back, the man behind the screen, except this time you can see the sheer pity that fills his gaze as he speaks to you as though you’re lower than him.

“How are you gonna make it up to me now?”

»»»

God. Fuck. Are you dreaming? You think you might pass out.

“I know, I know I said I wouldn’t stream tonight— shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

Your stomach is twisted in knots and you feel small as you attempt to take in everything properly— Beomgyu’s setup, the same room you’ve seen countless times before— you’re able to see it all, from his large computer monitors, his filming camera, to his grandiose bed and the insane amount of toys he keeps on standby.

You shift restlessly on your feet, entirely bare save for a shirt that Beomgyu let you borrow— another white button-up, the very same one that he loved to wear when he dressed up, now hanging from your figure as he allowed the two of you to freshen up the moment you got to his home.

Nervously, you had left the shirt completely buttoned up; you watched from behind his camera as he continued to sweet talk his viewers, dressed comfortably in a sweater and sweats, his attire a complete contrast to your own.

“You’re happy to see me? I don’t believe you,” he smiles, and you feel as though you’re back to being a faceless member of his stream as you press your thighs together, able to hear the way notifications pop up on his computer, all of them signifying a new tip.

“You know, today’s a pretty special occasion actually,” he begins, pausing to see his comments and the reactions within them, “you’re curious? Do you wanna try something new with me?”

Yes. It’s the only thing he sees in his comments, and he lets out a soft laugh before he’s turning back to his camera.

Then, he’s looking past it.

“Come here, baby.”

You knew this was coming— you agreed to this, for crying out loud, but you still feel as though your legs are made of jello as you hesitate, biting your lip before your eyes are widening nervously, the safe word the two of you established beforehand running through your mind like a mantra you mustn’t forget.

“Come on, you don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?” he asks, eyes flickering over to his screen, watching the way everyone seems to go haywire from his words, “See? They’re curious, they want to see you.”

You’re taking your first step towards the camera— then another, and another, until you’re walking past the setup, your back facing the camera as you make your way to where he sits at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do as you remain frozen in front of him.

“What, are you nervous?” he asks, and he’s only able to let out a mean laugh the moment you’re nodding in response, unable to use your voice properly— that’ll change soon, he thinks, reaching for your hands and guiding them to his shoulders.

“Don’t be,” he whispers, aiming for your thighs next as he’s tugging at them, pleased with the way you let him mold you to his desired position, your thighs on either side of his as you hover over him pathetically, “I know they’ll love you.”

Neither of your full faces can be seen— but the audience can definitely see the way he captures your lips in a harsh kiss, filled with nothing but pure need as he finally gets to feel you properly— you feel as though you’re about to run out air when he finally pulls away, laughing as he feels the way you buttoned every single button of the shirt he gave you.

“Now why would you do that?” he whispers against your lips, and your fingers dig into his shoulders pathetically as you watch him rip it open— the viewers are going wild at the sight, tipping ridiculous amounts of money just so they can get Beomgyu to see their requests; curiously your eyes drift to his monitor.

You practically collapse at the things you read on the screen.

Finger her. Eat her out. Use a vibrator on her, tie her up, breed her until she can’t walk straight, use a dildo on her—

The horror comes from the fact that Beomgyu is clearly considering doing all of it.

“What do you think baby?” he asks you, pressing his hand on the small of your back and forcing you to arch into him, your ass perking out and your cunt left to be entirely displayed as he trails his hand up your back, lifting your shirt along with it as he allows the viewers to get a good look at you.

“Anything that piques your interest?” he whispers, your head buried in his shoulder as you shake from the embarrassment of it all, “or…”

You jolt at the way his hand lands a sharp smack on your ass. He’s quick to soothe the area, smiling at the way he takes in the small whimper you let out, burying your face deeper into his shoulder and arching more in response. He lands another one, much more harsher than the last as his hand immediately drifts to your pussy, spreading you for the camera and watching the way you practically glisten under the light.

“Should I decide how I get to use you for myself?”

He’s a bit surprised to find that you’re quick to nod at his second request, much too shy to even lift your head from where it rests as your fingers dig into his skin.

He smiles, his eyes drifting back to the monitor as he begins reading over their requests.

“Hmm, are you shy, princess?” he asks, fingers trailing along your slit, feeling the way your hole flutters at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside as you whine quietly, nodding at his words.

“But you’re so fucking wet, and we haven’t even done anything,” slowly, his fingers slip inside— you’re both moaning at the feeling, and Beomgyu thinks that he might just be the one to cum as he feels the way you stretch around his fingers.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, beginning to test out the waters by scissoring you— spreading you out for the camera, watching over your shoulder as your arousal practically leaks out; he gulps, unable to keep his eyes away from the sight as he sighs.

“Feels so soft and warm,” he mutters, placing a kiss on your temple before he’s reaching for something off-screen— the box of toys, you realize, forced to keep your face buried in his shoulder in an attempt to not show your face to his audience.

“Just like I thought you would be,” he says, smiling against your skin as he murmurs the words into your ear— just for you to hear, not for the thousands of people who are currently watching the stream.

“Do you know what I thought about every time I went live?” he asks, sitting up and shifting so that you’re back in position, shaking your head softly as you feel his fingers begin to circle your entrance.

“You.” the stretch you suddenly feel has you moaning pathetically, the first sound the viewers are able to hear as the comments begin to fly past— your legs are shaking at the feeling of him slowly pushing the silicone dildo into your pussy, thick and long as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling tears prick at your eyes from how full you feel.

“I thought of you. Every time.”

Beomgyu’s eyes are dark as his hand grabs at your ass, spreading your cheeks and showing off the way the dildo begins disappearing into your tight cunt, your arousal already beginning to drip down the toy with every slow thrust of his.

“Wished you were there every time I would stream. I thought about fucking you the way I would fuck my toys,” his thrusts begin speeding up; you’re a moaning mess against him as you push your ass back, showcasing yourself perfectly and pushing up against the toy that he continues to ram into you— you’re jolting back into him with every thrust, your hands beginning to cramp with how hard you’re holding on to him.

“I would always moan your name too, did you ever notice?”

Your mind goes back to the time you thought you heard it— and, unexpectedly, you’re coming undone, reaching your peak as you respond with a pathetic yes…! The realization that it had all been real much more overwhelming than you thought.

Beomgyu continues to fuck the toy into you even long after you’re done coming; you’re a whimpering, crying mess against him, the stimulation making your mind muddled as you quietly attempt to get him to stop.

“Hmm? What do you want baby?” he asks, lips trailing down your neck and to your shoulders, where he begins to slip off your shirt so that you’re more exposed. He remains fully clothed as he begins sucking bruises into your skin, following one of his requests to mark up your pretty skin— his hair falls over his face, covering him momentarily as he begins drifting along your body carelessly.

It’s too much— yet, it’s not enough to have you using your safe word, and the fact makes Beomgyu smile as he bottoms out the toy inside you, grinding it into your pathetic pussy as he watches the way a ring of your cum begins to form around the base.

“Come on, talk to me. We’re waiting,” you’re hesitant to speak— that much is clear, especially when you know how much traction this stream is currently getting, the sound of tips constant as you shake your head in defeat.

“No? Okay then,” your shirt is being slipped off, leaving you naked as you wince slightly at the feeling of your garment being removed. Once again, Beomgyu is moving you around, and you’re facing the camera now as your legs are pried open by his own, the toy still stuffed inside you as you sit on Beomgyu’s lap— right on his hard cock, whining softly as you feel him begin to hold your hips down, grinding into you for some release.

“Don’t wanna use your words? Don’t wanna say anything to me or the viewers?” he tries again, eyes narrowing at the way you remain disobedient and shake your head, laying back against him as you pant softly.

“You’re not gonna thank our viewers for wanting me to please you, you fucking whore?” his hands are swift, and before you realize what he’s doing, your hands are cuffed behind your back, the fuzzy feeling reminding you of the cuffs he uses on himself sometimes.

“Fine. You wanna be ungrateful, stay quiet?” every sound that leaves your lips is unsure and soft, barely able to reach the microphone of the camera as Beomgyu scoffs at you. “Then stay fucking quiet. I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, understand?”

He doesn’t let you respond— of course he wouldn’t let you— but the way your mouth falls open suggests that you almost went against his command, the vibrator that he now pressed onto your clit making your legs shake with the sudden stimulation, threatening to close before Beomgyu’s own pried you back open swiftly.

“Look at you. Like a bitch in heat, only thinking about yourself,” he growls, his other hand beginning to thrust the toy back into you at a harsh pace, listening to the sounds of your arousal and the toy smacking against your skin with a satisfied groan, “Do you have any idea how many people wish they were in your place, wish they could be getting fucked stupid instead of having to sit and watch as I do it to you?”

He pauses. Then, he turns up the intensity of the vibrator with a cruel laugh.

“You would fucking know,” he seethes, taking in the way you writhe against him pathetically, biting at your lip to keep quiet as your hands struggle behind your back, “shit, can’t you hear how pathetic you sound? I bet you were a lot louder when you watched me, just another of my useless viewers that wish that I would fuck you— that I would even fucking acknowledge you.”

Everything that happens next is all a blur— your mind is foggy and you’re coming undone as you feel Beomgyu bite down on your neck, unable to hold back the pure keen of pleasure that rips through you, a string of unintelligible sounds flowing out of you desperately as you cream around the toy, feeling tears sting your eyes the moment Beomgyu decides to turn the intensity up again.

“Take it. I know you can,” he laughs purely because he knows that you have yet to use your safe word. It’s even worse because he’s right, the overstimulation fogging your mind and making you melt in his arms, still able to trust him even if your mind isn’t entirely there.

After a moment, the vibrator is turned off— you can hear him toss it to the side before he’s pulling the dildo out of your aching cunt, your body twitching at the sudden feeling before your cum is oozing out, dripping all over Beomgyu’s sweats and onto his sheets as he merely laughs at you.

You’re being turned around again— you feel woozy as you cling to Beomgyu, barely capable of hovering over him as he simply looks up at you, his eyes holding that same, innocent puppy-like look that got you trapped in his clutches in the first place.

“I feel so stuffy,” he pouts, tilting his head up at you as you simply whine incoherently in response, “I know baby. Won’t you help me out?”

It takes you a second to even register his request, your hands suddenly freed by him before you finally realize what he asked; your hands are slow and clumsy as you reach for the hem of his sweater, barely able to tug it up before he’s helping you out— your hands land on his shoulders once more for stability, your gaze falling on his chest and trailing down curiously.

And there it is. The very tattoo that got you into this mess, though this time you’re free to gawk at it, not paying attention to the way Beomgyu realized he caught you staring until he’s grabbing your hand, placing it on his chest and trailing it down, allowing you to feel him up as he shudders slightly at the feeling.

Your fingers trace over the tattoo. All the way down, following every elaborate line until you’re stopped by the hem of his pants, hands immediately slipping under before you’re tugging them off, pulling off his boxers too as you feel him lift his hips, left just as bare as you before he smiles.

You feel his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he begins to rub it against your slit; teasing you with the tip, looking over your shoulder to see what his viewers may be saying.

“What do you think?” He asks, pushing his tip into your cunt before he’s pulling back out. The action has you whining hopelessly, and Beomgyu has to take a second to recollect his resolve, pausing all movements in order to not come then and there.

“Should I fuck her? Does she deserve it?” He asks, looking over at you, cooing softly at the way your eyes remain glassy and fucked out, “Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry, not when you’ve been so ungrateful to our viewers.”

A tip catches his attention, and he’s briefly scanning over the amount and request before he’s biting back a smile.

“See? Even though you haven’t said a word to them, they still want to see me fuck you,” he says, taking your hands off his shoulders and leaving you to wobble momentarily as he places your cuffs back on.

“Aren’t they the sweetest?”

You’re barely able to process what’s going on— all you know is that your position changes within seconds, and your face is buried into the mattress while your ass is up in the air, your legs shaky as you’re barely able to hold yourself up; luckily for you, Beomgyu is there to help, hands grabbing onto your hips before he’s making you lean back.

His cock is poking at your entrance, and he’s already able to feel the way your cunt tries to suck him in as he passes his tip along your entrance, left entranced with the way you look under him, a complete, ruined mess as you quietly whine out to him, your voice muffled from where your face remained in his sheets.

It’s cute, really, the way you’re able to focus so hard on keeping your face hidden— if you lifted your head now, every single viewer on his screen would be able to drink up your expression as he fucked you— the thought irritates Beomgyu.

He’ll just have to make sure to fuck you until you’re too weak to move.

“God, you’re such a brat,” he groans out, entering you slowly and feeling the way you clamp onto him dangerously; even with how wet you are, he finds it difficult to fuck you, gritting his teeth and taking a moment where he merely concentrates on not coming inside you then and there.

“Stop fucking squeezing like that— ah— shit—,” it seems as though your pussy has him going stupid, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slowly pulls out— the whine you let out is long and lethal, so desperate and carnal that Beomgyu finds himself losing control; tightening his hold on your hips, he begins to fuck into you without a care.

“Such a good little pussy,” he grits out, watching the way your ass bounces against him with every thrust, “fuck, wish you’d let me fuck you sooner— would’ve made you mine, wouldn’t be able to get enough of you— god, fuck—!”

The way you tighten at his words is dangerous. He’s cursing and talking down like he always does, but this time, it’s just for you. The very thought is enough to have you clenching around him again, mouth agape and drooling against his sheets as your sounds get louder.

Another tip rings through— the same person from before, repeating the only part of their previous request that Beomgyu has yet to fulfill.

Won’t she say thank you?

The words have him stuttering out a laugh, unable to help the way he moans in between. His thrusts slow, and he’s bottoming out inside you before his motions are nothing but a slow grind, rutting his hips into your aching pussy while he reaches for something off-screen.

Your whines and soft complaints at the sudden change of pace are brief— because soon after a familiar buzzing sound is filling your ears, and before you can react, the same vibrator form before is pressed against your clit on the highest setting.

“Gyuuuuu…!” you whine out, long and desperate and incoherent as Beomgyu grabs at your cuffs, using them as leverage to make you slam back into him. His thrusts are brutal and the sound of skin against skin is enough rivalry to the buzzing of the toy as he begins to use the last of his energy to fuck you to your orgasm, watching as the chat buzzes with excitement from your sudden word.

What? What’d she say?? Was that his name? omg?!

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he sneers, his voice gruff as you shake your head, knowing damn well that you haven’t been perfectly compliant to him like he wanted you to be, especially now that you may have just slipped up and let out a personal fact about him.

“Exactly,” he continues, his thrusts toning down in speed, but not intensity— he pulls out to the tip with every thrust, only to slam back into you and have you jolt forward from the harshness of his pace; the vibrator that was once relentless on your clit is now hovering mere centimeters from you, taunting you as all stimulation becomes insignificant to what it was before.

“Maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll let you come,” he begins, watching the way you can only nod eagerly against the sheets, your hands struggling against your cuffs— he’s holding your hand at the sight, fingers interlocking as he watches you grip onto his hand with both of yours tightly.

“Will you be good for me? Are you gonna listen to whatever the fuck I ask you to do?” he says, his voice hardening at the end as he looks at you expectantly— a second passes before you’re nodding again.

“My viewers have been so patient with you. The only reason you got all this was because they wanted it— if it were up to me, I would’ve dumped my load in you already and left.”

That’s a lie— the biggest fucking lie Beomgyu has ever told, knowing damn well that he would’ve done all this and more to you any day, entirely unprovoked. But he knows his viewers love it, and so do you, because your cunt squeezes him so tightly he’s afraid he might just come early.

“Aren’t you grateful they loved you so much? Hmm?” you’re barely registering his words anymore. But you’re nodding nonetheless, your thighs beginning to shake from the sheer pleasure of feeling Beomgyu rut into your cunt throughout all this.

“Tell them thank you,” he says sweetly, not giving you enough time to speak before he’s back to fucking you wildly; his pace picking up, aiming for that specific spot that leaves you dumb and drooly as he places the vibrator back on your clit— any chances of sounding sane are thrown out the window as he begins tugging on your cuffs, bouncing you back against him as the wet sounds of his thrusts ring out through the room.

“Did you hear me—?” he asks, landing a smack to your ass before he’s soothing the area, slowing down so he can smack you again, “I said say thank you. Do you think you’re above us, pretty?”

Your first attempt to speak is a garbled mess.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. Or— do you just wanna be a cute little cumdump for me—? Ah, let me use you every time I stream… don’t need any fucking toys when I have my pretty doll for me— right—?” His own sentences are becoming more incoherent the longer he fucks you, addicted to the way your pussy practically sucks him in deeper in response.

“Try again,” he growls, feeling his own orgasm approaching slowly, “show me you’re not a— shit, a fucking brat, and maybe I’ll let you… ugh, let you come.”

Beomgyu swore he got rid of his habit of rambling like this long ago. But, you seem to be able to bring it out of him, his calm and collected speeches crumbling like paper in his mind as he takes in the way both your arousals are smeared over skin and dripping down your thighs, forming a ring around Beomgyu’s cock as he feels his resolve beginning to crumble— he begins to fuck you carelessly, not able to think about anything else but reaching his high as he waits for your response.

“Mmh—! ugh… fuck…” your voice is increasing in volume, the shy person from before long gone as you begin to chase your orgasm, much too afraid to lose it as you try to form a single, coherent thought.

“Thank…. thank you…” you whine out, but it’s all too slurred and quiet and pathetic to Beomgyu as he growls out a sharp what? His hand pressing down on the small of your back as he glues your hands to your skin, forced to take the way he fucks you as you moan out uncontrollably.

“Thank you..! Thank you thank you, oh, fuck—!” holy shit, you’re full on crying right now, reduced to nothing but a mess of moans and tears as you ramble on repeatedly, only able to remember those limited words as you feel Beomgyu come inside you— warm and deep, stilling for just a moment before he’s back to fucking you, his own moans becoming much more needy at the feeling of overstimulation.

“Thank you thank you thank youuuu, fuck, fuck fuck mmh—!” you feel stupid. You’ve definitely been fucked stupid, moaning out those stupid thank you’s like a prayer as you feel yourself slumping completely, a boneless, gooey mess as you rely on Beomgyu to hold you up.

He continues to fuck into you slowly, even after you’ve gone entirely still; he thinks you might’ve passed out, but it’s only for a minute before he sees you shifting again, burying your head into the mattress as he hears the distant sound of you sniffling.

Beomgyu feels concerned for a second, ready to check up on you and end the stream before you’re grabbing his hand again; then you’re clenching around him, mumbling his name so sweetly while you try to press yourself against him.

You’re straight up gone, he realizes, stilling for a moment and waiting for you to use your safe word— but you don’t, and he sees you peeking subtly at his monitor before you’re burying your face back into his sheets.

“You got a new tip.”

The words are barely audible to him, but he’s quick to glance at it upon your request; he almost chokes as he sees the five-hundred dollars that have been sent to him, his eyes reading over the request a few times before he’s looking back at you.

Could you try to make her squirt ?

“It’s five hundred dollars,” you mutter, and all Beomgyu can do is let out a bewildered laugh, leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he’s whispering in your ear if you’re okay to continue— the small nod you give him is enough to have his cock hardening inside you.

Fuck, he’s gonna give you the aftercare of the century after this.

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

-vine boom

I probably sent a lot of these now im so sorry lmfao 😅

You mentioned in one of the asks that some countries are like a prototype/based of our existing countries, like Germany=Mondstadt, Liyue=China, Inzauma=Japan....

So even though the language is more or less identical for you to make heads and tails in a conversation or writing in a book, the reverse side does not.

Creator!Reader who knows a couple of languages (plus points if they're atleast fluent or have a understanding of it despite not being able to speak said language) and being born from a country that doesnt have the same language as the countries Teyvat based off. Basically Spanish, Italian, Filipino, Scandinavian languages that also have their own way of writing.

Imagine feeling homesick and the only thing that keeps you occupied is the notebook and pen you have while the others converse in a meeting or in a hangout. You started writing in your tongue and re-reading it to relive memories.

Zhongli, AlHaitham, Albedo, Jean, maybe the Berry bros too (Diluc & Kaeya) get curious only to have a double-take and immediately thinks that maybe there is a forgotten land in Teyvat that has this language, I mean Morax stayed faithful to Liyue and Barbatos blessed his country with abundance of supplies and freedom. Teyvat gods and archons played favourites, so why wouldn't you as well? (Bonus: Khaenriah flashbacks) (also I know these arent enough characters but how should I know? I only have a handful of them and I ran out of Primos😭

The people from Akademiya though? I mean they went hard on theorizing and picking apart the language of their creator. Have you seen Matpat's descent to insanity the more FNAF continues to push out LoRe? Thats basically them because Teyvat doesn't have a country based on Creator's birth country. They're grasping nothing but air and dead ends and the only lead they have is you, but couldnt ask because you look so down and they cant bear to see Creator sad....

(NEW BANNER TOMORROW AND I DONT HAVE ENOGH PRIMOGEMS HALP---)

Rip Vine boom no primos 🙏 hope u got some more by this time bc i was so late to reply lol - DUDE IM SO READY FOR THE GORG KAVEH <333

BERRY BROS!! Thats it, thats the only way im gonna refer to them now.

Not super long to add onto ur bc UR SO SMART AND SUCH A GOOD WRITER VINEBOOM U SHOULD ALSO WRITE STUFF SO I CAN GO OBSESS OVER UR WRITING WITH A MILLION FERAL COMMENTS-!!!

(Cute owl house gif is like, metaphorially u and zhongli in this lol)

EDIT 8/23/23: So this may be inaccurate/not that good to my Hispanic Readers out there! Sorry about that, I'l make sure to do better in the future.

EDIT 1/1/24: Unfortunately there are even more issues here, and I'm really sorry about that. I expanded on it more in my Eldritch fanfic post in Part 2, but it was exoticism of me to use the word "Huangdi". I have since replaced it with "Emperor", and don't intend to just erase the mistake like it never happened. But I did change it in the headcanons for better readability. Again, I'm genuninely sorry about this, and will absolutely be watching out/doing better in the future. I hope you understand.

THIS SOUNDS SO SAD, LIKE THIS COULD DEF BE ANGST, ESP SINCE U HAVE NO FAMILIAR-ISH CULTURE TO TURN TO-

tbh im american and i def dont think theres a u.s. country- oh god at least I hope not, damn but im also familiar with mexican culture so i wouldnt miss the united states, but id miss mexican culture…

BUT!!

You have a lot of amazing people who care about you in Teyvat, so they won’t let you stew in ur homesickness for long

like random said, i could see it being small stuff

ok so imma just-

LATINO! READER TIME BABBYYYYY

(i do this bc its just the culture/language im more familiar with, but dont let that discourage anyone from requesting other cultures! I will def do my research, or ur welcome to tell me all about it so i can write it better! <3)

THAT BEING SAID IM MOSTLY WHITE PLS LMK IF SHIT IS WRONG/SPANISH IS WRONG BC IM STILL A BEGINNER MY BELOVED LATINES!

<3 YOU GUYS

♡

you’ve been in the game-turned-life world of Genshin Impact for nearly 6 months now, turns out time isnt wonky as hell like it is if you were playing the game, half bc u bribed Albedo with answers to his many questions about you if he figured out the time difference, and half bc of ur internal clock

people would notice the cuss words first lmao

like Xiao hearing u stubbing ur toe on the million and one steps up to Wangshu Inn, hijueputa!

or Keqing pointing out the words you coo at the dogs hanging out by the bridge outside the harbor,

un perrito tan buenoooo!! :’)

while most would just, " hmm, maybe a dialect of one of the other countries we havent heard…"

but Zhongli? he’s been ready for centuries in case the prophecy came true within his lifetime, afterall, many things changed while he’s been alive, not crazy to him that you might descend randomly

While everyone else was unprepared, bc u were like… the oldest deity, more legend than history, so ppl just thought Morax was a little overly faithful …so when it actually happened,, Morax was just smirking as he watched ur golden shooting star streak the night sky… while absolute pandemonium consumed the mortals and adepti in liyue lmao

(like that scene of Regina George in Mean Girls watching the student body break out into an all out brawl just smirking 😭 pls god look it up if u dont know what i mean- )

So Morax- Zhongli, has been ready for you, just in case, to pay attention to what kind of person you’d be, learn your favorite clothes/colors/offerings, see what things you’d like to talk about with him (hopefully for hours) etc.

He was observant, and with his memory, he practically gave himself headaches sometimes with how aware he was,

on one of those days he was overwhelmed by the mortal crowds, the smells, the market yelling, and all the change from what he thought he knew-

Zhongli noticed you in your own melancholy, and curious, he began to stroll just behind

You sit at Wanmin restaurant, still somber, and ask Xiangling to

“please try out these recipes? they’re from my world, and id really love to have something like them again..”

a true experimental chef as always, Xiangling quickly takes up your offer, and u follow her into the kitchens in the back (the restaurant is much more real than in game, they have gorgeous inside seating, all shades of red coloring the walls and lots of pretty latticework-)

Zhongli takes a seat finally, he has a usual table at this point he comes in so much coughtorunintoyoucough the staff know it's his and give him tea pretty quickly

the food, and the looks, makes it your favorite restaurant in Liyue, the Liuli Pavilion a little too fancy for casual dining, afterall, Zhongli would know

He’s tried to keep track of your favorite places to be in Liyue too, and kept his near full attention on what you say when he asks after your stays in Liyue (he hasn’t felt the need to pay that much attention or felt that much interest in conversation partners in… decades?)

So when you come out of the kitchen, throwing your head back and laughing, "Sí, sí! It all tastes so close Xiangling! Gracias, thank you!"

He wants… to know.

to know what those strange, but delicious looking, foods are all balanced on two big dinner plates

Xiangling carrying whatever you couldn’t just behind, a pitcher of white liquid, it smells, like cinnamon?

He raises a hand, and offers the extra seats at his table, (when did his tea go cold? he only just sat down, he couldn’t have spent that long thinking about you…)

You notice and look over, a giddy grin lighting up your face (…hmm, perhaps he needs to transform into his Exuvia form and let off some steam, his chest has warmed too much right now for him to just be sitting here…)

You plop into the seat beside him, but not before carefully placing the plates in front of both you and Zhongli

You scootch around until you’re turned towards him, as always, Zhongli looks… actually kind of, happy?

a small soft smile pulls at his lips, his eyes half-lidded as they meet yours, his usual red eyeliner framing his monolids perfectly, he looks like he’s been,, well, sculpted from stone, an artwork come to life

“…My Emperor? Could I trouble you to tell me about the dishes before us?”

the geo god’s pleasantly smooth and deep voice felt so soft asking you that, like he didn’t want to push you one direction or the other

“Oh! Right! Sorry, these are from my home country, back in my world, or at least, as close as Xiangling and I can get to them!”

Your smile brightens your face once more, clearing away any leftover stormclouds from your mood earlier, and as you launch into explaining (Xiangling had to get back to orders, so it’s just you two now)

You list it all, the quintessential: quesadillas, empanadas, tamales, chorizo (you had to combine at least 5 different spices to Mondstadt sausages to get anywhere close to the real thing) the dips obviously, salsa, queso, guacamole, and the easy street tacos, and finally the horchata, but also all the weird fruits Teyvat has with chile, like Sunsettias mixed with Harra from Sumeru or Lavender melons with Wolfhook berries… all surpringly pretty good

(the Sun-Harra combo tastes like mango, a sort of deeper taste of pineapple/kiwi and a sort of light orange taste? all with the nice addition of chile flavors, the Lavender melons and Wolfhooks helped imitate chamoy enough that your heart was satisfied)

…you realize you’ve just been talking about the last meal you had with your family/friends instead of the food after a bit, and Zhongli hasn’t said anything…

you trail off and look back over your shoulder (u were practically about to get your shirt in the imitation guac u were leaning so far over the table to point and talk)

you’re about to sheepishly apologize for taking over the conversation, and ask if he wants to try anything (Zhongli can handle spice so u dont have to worry abt that at least)

but as u finally see his face, u just stop, and dont end up saying anything

He’s just, looking at you.

his smile's not huge, but big enough to make his eyes look happy, and Zhongli’s just… looking at you.

You can’t describe the look he’s giving you, but you suddenly feel… a wave of shyness wash over your heart in your chest, because he’s looking almost like, maybe like, he’s sort of, waiting for you to keep talking, his tan skin warm in the golden rays of the sun beginning to set, you don’t know why you’re noticing any of these things, and he gently, slowly, makes a move to lean into your space a little

almost above your armrest, head inches from your shoulder, he finally moves to stop looking at you-

He looks like a painting as he looks down, his eyelashes almost sitting on his high cheekbones,

you have to move your head to looking at the table too as he moved so close,

you feel your shoulders reflexitively hitch upwards as you brushed the hair on the side of his head as you turned away

He looks around, and then moves his head, not his body, he’s still leaning toward you, to look you right in the eyes again

“Why did you stop? I haven’t said much, I apologize, but it’s only because I wanted to hear you without anything interrupting you.”

You cough a little strained, “Oh! Oh I get it now yeah, thanks-”

“I want to hear you more,” his black eyes begin to warm with gold, you can vaguely see the shape of his diamond pupil revealing itself, “I want to hear about… everything, if you’ll tell me? The language, the food, the drinks, your family, your dances, your country, I want to hear it all. Won’t you please let me hear your voice some more?”

♡

GOOOD LOOORDDDD, ITS SO LONGGGGG IM SO SORRRYYY 😭😭

OKAY IM MOSTLY SORRY THAT THIS SCENARIO HAPPENED??? IDK WHERE ZHONGLI CAME FROM- GOD IM SUBCONCIOUSLY IN LOVE WITH THAT MAN I GUESS, SORRY RANDOMANTICS-

uh, hope somebody got anything out of this, sorry abt the length, again,

also pls somebody tell me if what i said about culture/food was alright! If not I’ll def change it, pls dont let me keep it up if its inaccurate/wrong!!

Safe Travels you guys,

💀♒️

.°•.☆.•°.

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

#fuck my tags ♡#im so tired of putting them #idk why but my heads emptied of all i need to put <3 #UR HAVE SUCH GREAT IDEAS RANDOM!!!#i meant what i said before the gif!#genshin impact #genshin sagau #ask box open #sagau #my asks #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin isekai #genshin god reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli x reader #genshin impact sagau

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luvrseung · 2 years

Note

jake as ur best friends brother and u develop feelings lol 😆

ehehehe here you go ehehe

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

## pairing(s)! bff's older brother! jake x reader

## genre! mostly fluff with the tiniest bit of angst

## wc! 1.2k

## warning(s)! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be any other warnings pls lmk asap!

## a/n! another request! lowkey i love doing reqs 🫶🏻 this was very fun to do and there could possibly be a part 2 if this gets enough likes?? or if you want a part 2 LMKKKKK‼️ anywayssss enjoy~ [PART 2 OUT NOW!! <3 CLICK HERE! :D]

You’re not sure where or when it started, but you were definitely in a whole that was dug way too deep. The Sims were your absolute favorite siblings. Jake’s little sister, Bella, was your bestest friend and absolute favorite person on the planet. Growing up, and even up until now, it’s always been “y/n and Bella!” Or vice versa. To make a long story short, the two of you were the same person in different fonts. You were an only child, so having Bella around was like having a sister and best friend wrapped in one. It was also a bonus that she lived across the street from you. The two of you were always at each others’ houses and you wouldn’t want it any other way. The two of you did everything together and will keep doing everything together. You two were quite literally two peas in a pod.

Jake was a year older than the both of you. Growing up, he was close with you guys. But when high school started, he made new friends and met new people. That resulted in him being around less and less. Now that you think about it, maybe that’s when it started. Once Jake started high school and you and Bella were still in junior high. Seeing him less made you miss him. Jake being on the high school’s football team also subtracted the amount of times you would see him. But you definitely only missed him because he was fun to be around, right? That was definitely the sole reason and nothing else, right? Yeah…no.

The summer after 8th grade, before you first year of high school was when you realized you missed him because you liked him. How cliche, you think. Liking your best friend’s brother? Great. You didn’t think Jake would reciprocate your feelings, so you kept them hidden. You kept your feelings hidden when he introduced everyone to his first girlfriend. You kept your feelings hidden when he dyed his hair blonde. That was very hard on you, to be honest. And you definitely kept your feelings hidden when Jake would come home from practice to hang out with you and Bella.

“Oh, word? She’s really pretty.”

“Yeah..” Jake lets out a nervous giggle, “Yeah, she is.”

“Bro,” Jay speaks up, “You totally like her.”

“What? No I don’t, what makes you think that?”

“Dude, your ears are bright ass red right now,” heeseung speaks up.

“Okay? That could mean anything.”

“So… you wouldn’t care if I asked her out, right? Since you don’t like her that way,” Sunghoon chimes back in.

“Nah dude, she’s off limits,” Jake replies. The rest of his friends give him a look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! She’s my little sister’s best friend. It would be so weird to see her around with one of you guys.”

“Yeah, because you like her, dude,” jay interjects.

“Okay, no. You guys got it all wrong. I see her like a little sister. You guys wanna protect your little sisters, no?”

Sunghoon speaks again, “Well, yeah. But who would be better for her than one of your closest friends, right?”

“Dude, for real. She’s off limits.”

“Oh, so someone else can have her, right? What about Sunoo? He’s really nice,” Jay adds in.

At this point, Jake starts feeling frustrated. Which results in him blurting out the first thing that comes into his mind.,“No way! She’s mine! What does he have that I don’t?” After he got that out, he looks at friends with realization. “Shit,” he manages to get out, “I have feelings for my little sister’s best friend.”

“We’ve literally been telling you this whole time“ heeseung tries to interject.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jake surrenders and the other guys start to laugh at him. “Hey! Fuck you guys!” He says while giving everyone the finger. He realizes now, that he’s in some deep shit.

#enhypen network #fics cafe #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen au #enhypen ff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen Jake #sim jaehyun #sim Jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake sim #enhypen sim jaeyun #bfb

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smellydano · 2 years

Text

behave || jay (okja)

jay (okja) x afab!reader smut

omg my first actual post! i hope u folks like it! if u do pls like/reblog! any interaction means the absolute world to me :^)

warnings: nsft content (pls minors dni), impact play, jay is v jealous, degrading (but also praise?), dom!jay, pls lmk if i should add more!

synopsis: you embarrass jay at dinner so he teaches you a lesson.

word count: 1882

jay held your wrist and dragged you out the car from the restaurant, opening the door for you and helping you get in. he was still very polite for being so pissed at you. you both had just finished dinner at a very nice restaurant, as per your request. he walked over to the other side and got in, starting the car and driving back to his place. he gripped the steering wheel harshly, you placed your hand on his lap, looking up at him.

“take your hand off of me, dear.” he glanced at you with a glare, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. you know you might have flirted with your waiter a little bit, but it was only to get his attention! you loved when jay would get a bit jealous, especially in public. sometimes, if you’re sitting very close to each other, he’d usually end up grabbing your inner thigh, massaging it ever so closely to your heat. the way he would slowly run circles on top of your soaked underwear, with his long fingers, whispering in your ear, “you’re such a brat, you know that?” but this time, he seemed mad. more mad than usual. but you liked getting him riled up, the outcome was usually the best sex you’ve had with jay.

you slowly creep your fingers over to his thigh again, walking them slowly on his leg while looking up at him. he grabbed your hand and placed it on your own thigh this time, “(y/n), i’m not going to tell you again. behave.” he said sternly, keeping his eyes on the road. no pet name, you knew you were in for something tonight. you couldn’t help but think of all the things he would do to you once you both got home.

you both finally got to his place. you tossed your jacket on a nearby bench and took off your shoes. just as you placed them down on the cold tile flooring, jay’s hand gripped your wrist tightly. he pulled you over to the bedroom, opening the door with his free hand. you looked a bit confused, but inside you knew what was about to happen. you went to the end of the bed as he slammed the door closed, walking over to you. “jay, what’s going on?”

“what the fuck was that about, (y/n)?” he growled, pushing you onto the bed. you fell back, catching yourself with your arms as you look right up at him. “what do you mean, jay?” you look up at him with puppy dog eyes, playing stupid to rile him up.

“what do i mean? you completely embarrassed not only yourself, but me as well, in front of the waiter.” he looked at you as he started to crawl on top of you and hover over you. you felt his hot breath against your neck, bitting your lip. you needed him closer. you grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. “it was nothing, jay….” you trailed off, looking into his eyes, rubbing his chest.

suddenly, you felt your cheek get red hot. he slapped you. very lightly, not in a way that it would hurt, it didn’t. but in a way that would show that you needed to behave. “(y/n), i’ll ask you once more. why did you behave that way? tell me the answer i know you’ll give me.” he said sternly. you gulped, looking up at him. he knew exactly what you were doing. he knew you wanted him riled up. he knew you wanted to be punished for your bad behaviour while you were out.

as you were trying to tell him your answer, he started to slowly hike up your dress up and started rubbing your clit through your panties. you let out a breathy moan. “j-jay, please, keep going.” you moaned, unable to explain your reasoning while his hand was making your stomach form a knot. you squeezed your eyes shut, head thrown back in ecstasy.

“you know that’s not my name.” he pulled away, looking into your eyes. you let out a light groan, “sorry, sir! please, k-keep going!” you choked out as you looked at him with desperation in your eyes, making him lick the devilish smile that grew on his lips.

“tell me sweetheart, why were you so bad tonight? did you want me to get angry and fuck you like a slut? huh? is that what this was about?” he groaned near the end, pulling your panties down your legs and to the floor, then started teasing your entrance with his fingers. you choked out a moan, bucking your hips, desperate for some form of friction. “y-yeah, yes sir, ahh-i want you to f-fuck me like the w-whore i am!”

as soon as the words left your lips, he quickly shoved two fingers inside you. you let out a guttural moan, throwing your head back and arching your back. “fuck, sir please!” this is exactly what you wanted. he lowered his mouth down to your cunt, his tongue playing around with your clit. you were breathless, grabbing your boobs for more stimulation. you let out pathetic moans, completely melted under his touch. he knew exactly how to please you.

he slowly added another finger, you lifted yourself up on your elbows to watch him eat your cunt. he looked up at you, watching your face as he continuously toyed with your clit. he started to pump his fingers into you faster.

you could see the smirk crawl onto his face as you let out a few more profanities. you were very close to cumming, you could feel your stomach burning with pleasure. “sir, please, i’m so close, p-please i’m gonna cum!” he pulled away from your cunt, pressing kisses to your stomach. he mumbled against your stomach, “is that how you’re supposed to ask?.”

“sir, m-may i please c-cum, please sir?” you pleaded as you looked down at him working his fingers so well, almost panting with ecstasy. “yes sweetheart, cum on my fingers for me.”

it didn’t take long for you to release on his fingers, almost screaming from how good it felt, how good he made you feel.

your vision was dark and cloudy, your release taking over your body. you let yourself fall onto the bed from your elbows. jay slid his fingers out, making you moan from the empty feeling. he stood up from the bed, still fully dressed from supper. he took off his button up and unbuckled his belt, taking his pants off and placing them on the side of the dresser. you couldn’t help but stare at his hard cock straining through his underwear. he dropped those as well, walking back up to your fucked out body on the bed.

“take off your dress and get on all fours, bum facing me sweetheart.” he ordered, “yes sir.” you unzipped the back of your dress and tossed it to the floor and turned yourself around, getting in the position he wanted with your back arched inward. just how he liked you. he held your hip with one hand as he slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, rubbing your hole. you pushed your hips back, gaining a harsh smack on your ass. “don’t push back.”

“yes sir, sorry sir!” you said as you felt another smack come down, the stinging pain turning you on so much more. he continued to give your ass sharp stinging smacks, “this is for your behaviour tonight. you were such a bad girl, and for what? so i’d treat you like the little cock slut you are?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head from that name, all you wanted to be to him. you bit your lip and nodded quickly.

“yes! i’m sorry sir! i just want you to t-treat me like your f-filthy whore!” you stuttered as he teased your hole. he then starts to push himself in all the way, you drop to your elbows, gripping the bed sheets. he started to slowly fuck you, letting you adjust. jay was a bit above average, so he always made sure you had time to adjust and get comfortable to his size.

you signalled to him to keep moving, so he slowly started going then in seconds, started fucking you fast. he gripped your hips harshly, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow, along with the marks on your ass.

you let out yelps of pleasure, grabbing anything you could. “you feel so good, babydoll, fuck.” he whispered close to your ear, making the pit in your stomach burn again. your eyelids grew heavy, clenching around jay. he let out a few groans, fucking you as fast as he could. his thrusts got deeper as he gripped your hair, pulling you up closer to him as he leaned over and whispered, “who knows how to fuck you this good?”

“ahh-you sir, y-you fuck me this good! no one else, i-i’m all yours!” you cried out, letting out small pants as he thrusted harder into you. you felt tears forming in your eyes, the slight overstimulated already making you weak. you quietly sobbed from all the pleasure, resting your forehead on the mattress.

“yeah, all for me. that little waiter couldn’t fuck you this good, could he?” he growled, slapping your ass once more. you bit your lip, moaning loudly. “no sir, only y-you!” you shrieked as you felt him twitch inside you.

his hips started sputtering, “fuck, you feel so good. i’m gonna cum. where do you want it, doll?” jay asked, you answered by hooking your calves around his thighs from behind. “inside?” he asked, biting his lip.

“yes sir-ahh please inside me. please fill me up like the cockslut i am!” and like that, he came inside you, letting out loud groans and grunts. he pulled your head up gently by your hair, continuously slamming into you, “come on sweetheart, do you want to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear. “yes, yes sir, i want to cum!” you pleaded, letting out pathetic whines.

“apologize your your behaviour tonight.” he demanded, earning a small moan from you.

“i’m s-sorry sir! i was being bad! ahh-please, can i cum now, sir?” you cried, not being able to feel your cunt anymore from how good he fucked you “come on sweetheart, cum for me like the little slut you are.”

your second orgasm of the night washed over you and hit you like a ton of bricks. jay continued thrusting slowly, riding out both of your highs. your legs started to slowly give out as you laid yourself on the bed, jay pulling out. you whined at the loss of him inside you. you tried catching your breath as jay seemed to leave the room. he came back with a glass of water that he set on the bedside table, and a damp washcloth.

“can i clean you up, love?” you nodded weakly, he started to wipe away the cum that leaked out. he flipped you over so you’re laying on your back, and wiped away anything he saw. he tossed the washcloth in the hamper.

he brought you up to the top of the bed where he laid you back down, offering to help you put on some pj’s. “i’m too warm.” you said. he smiled, putting the covers over your beautiful fucked out body.

once you were settled, he threw on some underwear and climbed into bed right next to you. he pulled you close to him, letting you rest on his chest. he ran his hand through your hair, placing a peck on the top of your head.

“you’re such a good girl for me.”

“thank you, sir.”

——

aHH pls lmk if u liked it! if u liked my garbage writing ,, pls, feel free to send requests!! ty for reading ily 🖤🍄🧚🏻‍♀️

#jay okja x reader #jay okja #jay okja smut #paul dano x reader #paul dano #paul dano smut #danonation #danocel #smellydanowrites

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torialefay · 2 months

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hiiii! i'm not sure if i'm doing this correctly and if ur requests are open (if not i'm sorry pls ignore this ;_;) but i'd like to request a compatibility reading with channie!

here's what i could find about my natal chart, please lmk if i should add something/send in anything else! (oh and my pronouns are she/they ^^)

thank u so much, have a lovely day/night! 💗

here you go sweetheart ❤️ i love my virgos hehe

your ascendant in virgo:

you most likely come across to others as someone who has a strong sense of service to others and knows how to get things done. you may come across as a perfectionist who is very dedicated to what they believe in. virgos highlyyyyy value intelligence and perseverance, so you could come across somewhat intimidating (if others are intimidated by intelligence and independence that is)... but i think this is a GOOD thing bc it means you are less likely than average to attract weak people basically lol. i think this is actually a really good fit for channie. he has a ton of air placements, which also lends him to have a more cerebral nature. his gemini rising actually gets along really well with yours. i think he'd get you to open up and you'd have a LOTTTT to talk about when first meeting. i think he'd be impressed at your knowledge and how you apply yourself.

your sun in virgo in the 1st house:

for you, what you see is what you get. it's likely that your personality when with friends doesn't change much when meeting new people. in other words, people are way less likely to see you as "fake". since first house energy also tells us how we present ourselves, it is likely that you have actually obtained a lot of the personality traits that you desire. you most likely WANT to be seen as someone who is loyal, dedicated, intelligent, and hardworking, and as a result, that is EXACTLY what you are. with chan, it is the same as before. his libra sun energy is very cerebral and is very much inclined to spend time with people who can mentally stimulate him. another reason i think this is a good match is because virgo is the ruler of the 6th house, and chan has a lottttt of planets residing in his 6th house [his moon (emotions), his venus (love and relationships), and his mars (action, adventure, and aggression). the one clash i do see is that virgos tend to be a little of worriers, as do libras. so on one hand, you will be able to understand each others' energy, BUT y'all are gonna have to work on your anxiety levels 😂 (maybe y'all could go to therapy together??? 😭😭😂)

your moon in leo in the 12th:

i think a lot of leos get a bad reputation, but having this moon placement in your 12th house is actually really cool. leos are very individualistic by nature. not only do they see the individuality in themselves, but they bring it out in other people too. with your moon being in your 12th house, you probably feel like you deeply NEED this individuality and distinction to feel balance in life. having that little bit of "uniqueness" is important to you. down to your very soul. leos do, also, need a lot of validation in themselves. chan's libra moon GETS that. he needs a lot of validation too. and because of this, i think you'd both be great at giving each other what you need.

your mercury in libra in the 2nd:

this is where i think there could be trouble. chan's mercury is also in libra. libra mercuries tend to placate to what they think other people want to hear. they are able to change the way they express themselves in order to get what they want (not in a bad way, it's just a natural thing you can do). libra mercuries tend to avoid talking anout things that make them feel uncomfortable because it could disturb the balance in their relationship with that person. you usually are only comfortable with explaining yourself and communicating with others to the level that they give you. in other words, you may sometimes need a strong push in order to talk about emotions that will hurt the other person. you can bottle them up. so you and chan may have trouble talking about things that are bothering you in the relationship, leading to resentfulness. it could also lead to some pettiness as well. i do think with your virgo placements though that you could overcome this.

your venus in libra in the 2nd:

this is a pretty good match with channie. with his venus in scorpio, i see him as taking on the more dominant role in the relationship. that applies both to sex and to everyday life. one thing that could come up between you two is mind games in the relationship. this could manifest in that you both pine over each other for a long time and secretly try to make the other person fall in love with you. OR when you're in the relationship, it could get a bit manipulative both ways. you also both value true love and beauty and would make sure to dress up together hehe

your mars in virgo in the 12th:

this is actually a great match for chan's mars in sag. virgo is able to ground him or sort of tether him down without being too overbearing or bringing too much emotional warfare into it. you'd likely have fun together, but you'd always remind him that at the end of the day, he needs to come HOME. fights between you two are actually fine bc you are way better in arguments and he will feel like a dumbass if he gets mad over something stupid w you when he's in the wrong.

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wooahaes · 9 months

Note

hi! (first time sending an ask so pls lmk if anyone has this emoji but-) i completely agree w/ u that writers should put a warning or smth that the fanfic will be catered to a certain body type as ive read fanfic w/o that and have felt insecure. not saying these writers are intentionally trying to make ppl feel bad, but they need to realize that sometimes their works do cater to thin/skinny body types and letting readers know that rly isnt a big deal. ty for always speaking ur truth! - 🐱 anon

hi nonny! im gonna answer all ur asks in one go <3 (no need to apologize for spamming! i had a moment of 'oh fuck did i say something wrong' but thats just anxiety brain speaking haha)

honestly! i genuinely don't mind if writers wanna intentionally write works for a thinner reader, it'd just be nice for them to write in a little warning at the beginning of the fic <3 i write chubby readers and mark 'em with chubby!reader so my audience knows, nothing wrong w doing it the other way around!

i also wanna say, i remember looking up "seventeen x chubby reader", "svt x chubby reader", or smth along those lines on tumblr but just knowing almost nothing will pop up 💔. until i saw a little fanfic called "tiger stripes" and was baffled that someone actually wrote something that had someone like me in mind. i remember feeling and being so happy about it. just thank you for your svt x chubby reader works because u make us chubby carats feel so seen 🫶🏼 - 🐱 anon

aaaa ty lovely!! im a chubby gal myself so i love writing chubby!reader fics from time to time when inspiration strikes <3 usually i try to keep everything body neutral so that anyone can enjoy my fics (even in my chubby reader fics, i try not to specify how big reader is so that anyone bigger can enjoy them), but sometimes i just gotta aim something for the chubby gals out there <3 tiger stripes is one of my most beloved fics and it genuinely makes me happy to think of my own stretch marks as tiger stripes hehe <3

ah anyway !! hope im not a bother w/ my asks !! i just wanted to tell u this despite my shyness bc idk, i rly feel like u needed to hear it 🙏🏼 anyway, i also wanna add ur a rly good writer and keep on doing what ur doing 👍🏼 - 🐱 anon

u are 100000% fine!! i love talking to anons and ur always welcome to pop into my inbox whenever you feel like it <3 + it does always help to hear that other chubby carats enjoy my work!! mwah mwah ur so sweet

tw fatphobia mentions (nothing explicitly fatphobic tho) // omg though.. i remember finding this [redacted] x reader fic and bc it appeared under the [removed] tag (smth like that) and i assumed that it was catered to fat ppl. but unfortunately it turned out to be incredibly fatphobic w/ it's themes, plot, + y/n. im not saying u have to be fat to write "x fat reader" fanfic but perhaps step away from writing for ppl u have no understanding of if ur gna write stuff like that.. - 🐱 anon

redacting the guy + the tag from your ask purely to try and avoid anyone tracking down the writer by any means! i trust my followers to not do something like that, but i'd feel better reducing that risk in any way <3

oh yikes! i think like... its worth it to sometimes address fatphobia in writing, but that kind of stuff 100% needs a warning! one of my current fic ideas involves a reader who is confident in her body but kinda relapses back to a previous mindset of 'maybe i Should be ashamed of it' after being fully insulted for being a bigger gal and the fic would absolutely have a warning.

i do agree that you def do not have to be a bigger person to write chubby/fat reader fics, but its definitely something you need to be mindful of when you wanna handle the heavier topics. im always happy to weigh in with my own thoughts + experiences, and im sure other people would be, too! no shame in trying to address it in themes/plot, but there's def a difference between endorsing those ideas and discussing them (and i'll say i have no idea which was being done in this fic)

(btw: no one go looking for this writer to say anything to them btw, we do not promote harassment on this blog--anon ur 100% fine to express ur opinions since i've seen fatphobia in reader fics, too, and it's okay to express discomfort with the idea. i'm always open to discussing things as long as they don't point too directly to anyone's work--and i'm equally open to taking down anything that pinpoints a certain writer.)

anyway ur 100% fine to send as many asks as u want!! im always happy to talk to people esp abt topics like this (or in general too!) <3 ty for being polite tho mwah mwah ur v cute

#🐱 anon #wooahaes.ask #asks.anon #fatphobia tw #(for a mention in another ask anon sent)#(im serious btw i removed the guy + the tag to reduce any risk of the writer being found)#(please do not go looking for the writer)

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straykits · 2 years

Text

recs game !

recommend 5 or more of your own works that you would rec to someone asking what they should read first & explain a little bit about the work. these can be the most popular, the ones you think are underrated, or your own favorites! then tag five other writers!

was tagged by @lixesque <3 doing it on my writing bc i just got a small handful of new followers so hi if u guys see this this is indirectly for u HAHA anyways this was really hard and i'll be tagging. uh. um. @soulssung @violixs @decembermoonskz @sulfurcosmos aHHHHHHHHHH

evening star - bc; lmh

wbk she'd be on here <//3 evening star is ... my most cherished piece, i suppose, because of how much time and effort i've put into it. yes there's only one part up and yes it's long overdue for part two, but i promise that's coming soon and i promice that our other beloved character will make a more permanent appearance. the story features a fem reader who is a princess, chan who is a knight, and minho who is a mage! it's set in a fantasy world; your typical kind of.. humans and magic world, yknow? anyways pls give evening star a shot <3

five more - scb

is it my love for given, or this piece? you'll never know. but i really enjoyed the end product for this one! just the quietness, and the light atmosphere-turned-sentimental kinda thing. that's my favourite. it's what i hope to achieve in like. 90% of my stuff.

static - bc

a snapshot of a quiet drive, this one. again, just the quietness of it? ..idk if that makes sense. but i also quite enjoyed people's reactions to the beginning of this hfdnskjfsfjs

12:02am - lmh

its just bootiful imo

untitled (prompt: playing with eachother's fingers) - bc

another one that i just. was really happy with. the hazziness, the kind of impermenanence of it. AHHHHHH pls i love this one so much i need a title for it but i don't yet have one. i.. also need to go add this to my m.list soon

if anyone checks any of these out, please lmk what you think! reminder that feedback etc is always so appreciated and cherished

#kat plays games

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touyaz · 3 years

Note

Could I please ask for some headcanons about yandere twice and aizawa? Love your blog so much, your writing is just amazing!!

pairing aizawa shouta x gn reader

word count 943

notes thank you!! i dont write for twice bc i'm not too familiar w his characterisation :( i need to update my rules with that, but if u want anyone else pls lmk <3 enjoy :))

WARNINGS dark/ yandere aizawa, reader referred to as kitty, stalking, kidnapping, noncon, spanking, gagging, oral (m rec), anal (reader rec), binding/ bondage, implied dehumanisation/ pet play.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

normally, aizawa is a man of few words; he doesn't bother with anything he deems unnecessary, and he'll be the first to admit that there isn't much that can actually break him out of this dreary, apathetic routine of his. however, when he first sets his sights on you, he knows something is different.

he's a hero first and foremost, so he's always vigilant — eyes scanning people to determine whether or not they pose a threat, until his eyes cross yours. there's nothing special about the way you scamper down the streets at night while he's on watch, you look like any other civilian afraid of the threats in the dark, but maybe aizawa's just grown bored of the whole camping on rooftops like a sitting duck, so he decides to follow you home.

it's easy with the cover of night, blending into the shadows as he trails behind you, feeding on the way you peer over your shoulder every so often. you're like a helpless little kitty, lost and all alone in a big jungle, where bigger, deadlier cats lurk, waiting to pounce on some fresh meat. no one gets close enough to try, though, not with the erasure hero pursuing you so meticulously, fighting off the low-level scum, so you can make your way home safely.

he deserves some sort of reward for clearing off all those villains just for you, he justifies as he watches you through your open curtains. you're a silly kitty, aren't you? showing yourself off like that, as if you know he's right across from you.

accompanying you home easily becomes a routine. it adds some spice to his otherwise bland life. but, soon enough, just watching from afar isn't enough for him. maybe he should bide his time and go about this in a safer manner, but he wouldn't be a good hero if he didn't take risks.

he's been working as a hero for so long, he's seen enough crime scenes to know how to stage a break-in, and that's exactly what he does the day he steals you away. there are police meetings he hears about, grieving and sobbing family members and friends he sees when the news of your abduction gets out, but it's water under the bridge to him. you're where you belong now.

some days he misses the quiet nights at home, but he'll never regret bringing you here. never. to him, you're irreplaceable. he needs you because without you, he's just an obscure hero, an overworked teacher, a man desperately in need of a haircut and a hand to hold. but you? just your presence is enough to get his heart racing; he feels reborn, like a completely new man as he explores you and all that makes you you, learning all your different reactions, memorising all the faces you make for him.

living with someone isn't something he's used to, but it's easy to get accustomed to when he controls every aspect of your life: you don't need to worry about what clothes to wear when he picks an outfit out for you every day; don't worry your pretty little head over cooking, he'll make your meals and restock the fridge as necessary (and he'll force the food down if you ever even think of refusing); all you need to do is focus on welcoming him home with your legs spread, ready and waiting for him to fold you into whatever position he's in the mood for today.

whatever he says, goes. he doesn't have the time to deal with bratty behaviour, and any instances of backlash or a tantrum are swiftly dealt with. tough love, he claims as he bends you over his lap and spanks you until your ass is raw with pain, a never-ending stinging sensation is all you can feel in your lower parts. this is all your fault, he'll remind you as he ties a gag around your head so your mouth is forced to stay wide open. he'll shove his cock into your mouth and hold it there, because this is all it's good for — instead of squealing complaints, you should be choking on his length, mewling for more. his favourite punishment is using his infamous wrap scarf to hold you up in different positions, like you're a helpless little puppet, all his to mold and contort as he pleases. he'll bind your hands so you can't claw at him; he'll part your thighs so wide your muscles burn with the stretch, but it gives him more than enough space to pound into you recklessly; he'll fold you like a pretzel, dismissing your anguished cries in favour of bottoming out in your ass, until you realise that you are completely at his mercy, that you should only be satisfied when he is.

he says he doesn't have the time, the energy, the patience, to deal with your outbursts, but he's so, so quick to punish you when they happen, that you think he's full of shit — he enjoys watching you lash out and scream and wail and take all your pent-up rage out on him, because it's all part of your training, isn't it? he's found his little stray cat, and now he needs to teach it how to live in his sanctuary.

he's never been one to put in 110% effort into something unless he deemed it absolutely necessary, and you know he loves you enough because that's exactly what he does: he goes above and beyond — plus fucking ultra — to know everything about you, to integrate himself so deeply into your life, you won't remember who you were before him.

#tw dark content #mine #mine.bnha #tw stalking #tw kidnapping #tw noncon #tw dehumanisation #tw pet play #anon #tw yandere

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clairecrive · 3 years

Note

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fluff #nikolai lanstov blurb

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divinefireangel · 3 years

Note

hi. i really need youngbin possessive boyfriend. jealousy. whatever kinks u want. pls.

I'm gonna do bullet points for this! (Mainly cuz you didn't mention if you wanted a scenario 💀)

Warnings: 18+ and written for female anatomy. The regular ones really. Choking, spanking, daddy/sir kink, possessive duh, marking, dirty talk 😙, edging, overstimulation. Lmk if I need to add more.

Jealous Possessive Youngbin will include:

Oh man you know you've fucked up big time when he gets jealous cause he's quite calm bout almost everything

Legit the moment you enter your room or any secluded room, you're pushed up against the nearest wall or bent over a clean surface

He will grip your ass with as much strength as he has omg

Bruises bruises BRUISES FOR DAYS

Definitely manhandles you, not too much tho don't worry 😉

Now it might go in two ways from here

Situation 1

He will pull down just your pants and underwear or rip them

Basically exposes your heat and removes his pants too and just goes to town

Very rough 🤤

Spanks you so much you ass is red almost purple

Grips your hair hard enough to make you cry

merCILESS

Ends up overstimulating you while chasing his own high

Makes you beg him to stop

Moderately low chances of choking you

Dirty talks so much

" You are mine. Just mine. All mine." as he's literally pounding into you

" You think they could fuck you better? Make you cum as many times as I can?"

His daddy kink comes into play 🤭 only if you're into it

Okay but he'll drive his dick into you at such a fast pace you're moving away from him cause it's too much

But you can't move away cause there's no space so you end up squirming so much it makes him smirk his evil smirk

Vampire bites your neck

When you cum for the final time he's made sure that you physically can't stand on your legs anymore

Super caring after tho 🥺

Situation 2

Comes up close to you, presses his body to yours so you cam feel his hard cock on your ass

One hand moving your hair to one side while the other applies pressure to your throat

Licks your ear before talking to you

Makes his voice super deep and lustful 🤐

" I didn't really like the stunt you pulled today. Maybe I should teach you a lesson babygirl. "

Brings you to the bedroom, ties your wrists together so you can't touch him :(

Fucks your face for sure

Bends you over his knees, asks you to counts the number of spanks 😶

Suddenly slips like 3 fingers into your aching wet hole, no warnings what so ever as his thumb will find your clit

Teases you while interrogating you

Better respond with 'Sir' or you won't get to cum tonight or a week

" Aren't you my good girl? Why were you acting like that? Have I not trained you enough by now? " With such a calm voice that it seems like an Innocent question

Edges you so many times. Like 7 or 8 times 😳

Finally gives in and fucks you like you two are the only people who need to repopulate the earth

Chokes you as he leaves so many hickies on your neck and oh Lord you won't know how to cover them no matter how much you try

Makes you cum till your legs shake or you squirt

Rough grips every part of you

Delicate aftercare cause it's just as important

This was fun.

#sf9 #youngbin #kim youngbin x reader #youngbin smut #kim youngbin #sf9 youngbin #sf9 youngbin smut #sf9 smut #sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 x reader smut #sf9 x reader #sf9 headcanons #sf9 drabbles #ask #anon ask

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mortemersgf · 3 years

Text

serendipity pt.2

hot couture: hazel nguyen x f!mc (arden moore)

summary: hazel makes it up to arden for not flying her out to majorca.

click here for part 1

warning: nsfw content. minors, do not interact. by viewing this work, you consent you’re 18+

word count: 2.1k

@choicesficwriterscreations

a/n: my first smut!! pls be nice lmk what u guys think <3

Red wine.

Arden tastes red wine faintly on Hazel’s tongue as she presses her to the wall beside the door. It was almost beyond the bounds of possibility to keep her hands to herself as they were chauffeured to the hotel, so she wasted no time locking the door and drawing Hazel into a heated kiss. She steadies herself with a palm to the wall, her other hand cupping Hazel’s cheek. A quiet moan falls from Arden’s lips as she feels Hazel’s hands wander from her waist to over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently.

Hazel arches her back, pressing her body flush against Arden’s, as she wraps her arms around her hips. She lets out a breathy laugh while Arden’s lips trail to the soft skin of her neck, peppering the area with soft kisses.

“What?” Arden murmurs.

“You’ve been wanting this for so long, haven’t you?” Hazel questions. She cups Arden’s face so their eyes meet. Arden is still entrancing with her lipstick slightly smudged, hair mussed, Hazel realizes. She would’ve deemed the look sloppy had it been anyone else, but Arden pulls it off, and she does it well.

Arden smiles wolfishly, capturing Hazel’s lips in another kiss before answering, “Haven't you? From what I can remember, you seemed to have enjoyed yourself the last time we did something like this.”

“It was a shame I didn’t get to have my way with you.”

Arden holds back a moan and responds by drawing Hazel into another kiss. Their mouths move in sync against each other’s as Arden snakes her arms around Hazel’s body to find the zipper to her gown. She can’t wait a moment longer only imagining how Hazel looks underneath the dress.

Hazel helps with the effort and eases herself out of the garment without much difficulty. The dress is surely costly having been worn by her, but it’s long forgotten as it pools by their entangled legs. Arden marvels at the woman before her, cheeks warming. Aphrodite herself carved Hazel Nguyen, there’s no doubt about it.

“Getting a good look?” Hazel asks, unclasping her bra in one fluid motion. The lace bra drops to the carpeted floor with a light thud.

Arden could melt. She could evaporate into a puddle right now and be content having seen Hazel this way, but she doesn’t, choosing to take her hand instead. She brings Hazel to the drawer, positioning her against the edge.

“You’re overdressed,” Hazel notes.

Arden lets out a small laugh, shrugging out of her blazer and unbuttoning the top two buttons of her dress shirt. “Better?”

“Not really.” Hazel traces a finger down the center of Arden’s chest, stopping her movement to feel the material of the shirt. “Take this off.”

Arden’s heart thrums with desire, but she refuses to relent. She wants to tease Hazel, so she simply sinks to the floor and instructs, “Maybe later. Grab on tight.”

Hazel is more than pleased seeing Arden on her knees with eager eyes and parted lips. She obliges happily, curling her fingers around the wooden edges of the dresser and jutting her hips.

Arden’s face is about level with Hazel’s sex. She places one hand on her thigh, stroking the soft skin with her thumb. She presses gentle kisses to either thighs and with her other hand, she runs her index finger along Hazel’s clothed folds, delighted to find her lace panties dampened with arousal.

“All this for me?” Arden asks, glancing up at Hazel.

Hazel offers Arden a sultry smile in return. “Don’t act so surprised.”

Keeping eye contact, Arden licks at her heat, just to tease her, to gauge her reaction. Hazel’s head tilts upward, and she releases a soft sigh, threading her slender fingers into Arden’s hair.

“Don’t tease,” she murmurs.

And Arden obeys, pulling aside her panties and licking her from slit to clit. She repeats the motion for a couple of more times before swirling her tongue around Hazel’s clit, pulling moans after moans out of her. Arden relishes the sinful sounds tumbling out of mouth and uses it as encouragement to wind her up even higher. Hazel sounds beautiful. She’s unraveling right before Arden, and Arden adores it.

She sinks one finger into Hazel, adding another when Hazel breathes, “More.”

Arden curls the digits diligently as her tongue rejoins the effort. The sensation of Arden’s fingers pumping inside her sends Hazel into euphoric bliss. She tightens her grip on Arden’s hair as she hits a particularly sensitive spot, making Hazel’s breath hitch.

I should be the one bringing her to the brink, again and again, Hazel thinks. And silently, to herself, she promises to do so.

Hazel rolls her hips, feeling the coil in her stomach tighten with every lap of Arden’s tongue against her. It’s not long until she’s crying out Arden’s name and quivering against her face. The waves of pleasure coursing through her body renders her speechless for a moment, and she can only stroke Arden’s hair, her cheek, as she rides out the rest of her high.

Content, Hazel brings Arden up to her feet and cradles her close, tasting herself on Arden’s tongue, while her fingers work deftly at her dress shirt.

Arden lets out a soft moan at her slightly rough handling, mumbling, “Hazel, be careful… This is a Frances Bacque exclusive.”

“I’ll replace it,” Hazel asserts.

And Arden’s stomach churns with need. She whimpers as Hazel runs a hand over her breast and reaches to unclasp her bra for easier access. A teasing smile rests on Hazel’s lips as she leans in for a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl.”

Lips still entangled, they stumble to the bed until Arden plops down on the mattress. She barely has time to kick off her heels and shimmy out of her pants before Hazel is hovering over her.

As Hazel’s lips nip at the column of Arden’s throat, her hand roams greedily over her chest. She toys with the pebbled peaks of Arden’s breasts, pinching and flicking. Arden gasps and arches into Hazel, head dizzy with pleasure as Hazel begins to kiss down her body. The sensation sends goosebumps across Arden’s limbs, and for a moment, she wants to giggle.

Regardless of how many times Hazel seals her lips to Arden, how many times her hands squeeze and trace every curve on Arden’s body, she’s in disbelief all the same. This is real, Arden reminds herself. Hazel feels the same way I do. Bliss blooms in her chest every time.

Hazel presses kisses to Arden’s collarbone, the valley of her breasts, and her stomach until she’s positioned where Arden needs her most. Hazel pushes apart Arden’s thighs gently, relishing how she glistens, how wet she is, as she kisses her soft skin.

“Please…” Arden says, voice strained.

Hazel spends little time teasing her. She gets to the point, licking long stripes up her folds. Arden’s back arches instinctively and she lets out a strangled squeal at the sudden sensation. She feels woozy, stomach fluttering and cheeks flushed. Her hands crush the smooth silk sheets beside her head as Hazel repeats the action.

“Oh god, please don’t stop,” Arden breathes.

Hazel doesn’t plan on it. She adds onto Arden’s pleasure by thumbing her clit, and hums at the pretty sounds tumbling out of her mouth. Arden bucks her hips against Hazel’s face in the gentlest way, gasping quietly. Taking note of her impatience, Hazel responds by pushing two fingers into her.

She keeps pace for a few minutes, slowing her movements when Arden begins reaching blindly for her. Their hands find each other, and with a soft squeeze, Arden falls apart with a cry. She’s breathless as she comes undone, sweat beading at her hairline.

As Hazel strokes the top of Arden’s thighs, helping her come down from her high, she asks, “Will you be good and give me one more?”

Yes, yes, yes. I’ll give you a thousand more if you wanted. Sentences are much too difficult for Arden to string together in this moment, so she nods insistently as she rides out the rest of her climax, chest heaving and eyes fluttering closed.

Arden feels the bed shift as Hazel moves away from the mattress, padding to her luggage sitting in the corner of the spacious room. She returns with a vibrator in hand and slides the already buzzing toy between Arden’s legs, capturing the moan that spills out of her mouth with a kiss.

Hazel transfers her attention to either of Arden’s breasts, nipping and sucking with such expertise, Arden is sure there will be bruises the next day. Her stomach swirls with want at the thought of it.

Hazy from pleasure, Arden cups either side of Hazel’s face and mumbles in a heady whisper, “Kiss me.”

Hazel complies wordlessly. She’s looming over Arden again, but she takes a moment to appreciate the woman under her. She’d promised to bring Arden to the brink again and again, and so far, she’s keeping her word. Even with her cheeks flushed and eyes distant, Arden is a sight to behold. Hazel cups the side of her face, and she dips in for a soft kiss.

Already sensitive from her previous climax and winded up from the feeling Hazel’s lips against hers, Arden comes again within moments. She writhes underneath Hazel, panting and huffing out a breathy laugh.

Hazel extracts the vibrator, and keeping eye contact, she wraps her lips around the toy, tasting Arden. Despite her current state, Arden feels arousal pooling in her stomach once more. She catches her lower lip between her teeth, watching Hazel intently.

“Haven’t had enough yet?” Hazel questions.

“Not even close,” Arden says.

“Then let me take care of you.”

And she does. Again and again.

The first thing Arden notices when she rouses from sleep is the enticing smell of coffee. She inhales deeply and snuggles into the silk sheets, basking in the solace of the quiet morning. A stream of sunlight blinds her as she shifts around on the mattress and she groans, shielding her eyes with a hand. All is swell until she hears the sound of a toaster.

Her half lidded eyes widen in sudden realization. She shoots up into a sitting position, discovering that she is alone in bed.

“Oh my god,” Arden mumbles hoarsely, tracing her eyes over the vast room. Last night. It wasn’t a dream, was it? It really happened? She receives her answer as she glances down at her bare chest. It’s littered with purple marks, evidence that Hazel had her way with her.

Arden smiles to herself in spite of the soreness that’s spread throughout her body. She runs a hand through her tousled hair and slips out of bed, shuffling over to the pile of clothings Hazel had settled atop a cushy chair. Shrugging on the dress shirt she wore last night to clothe herself somewhat, she plods into the next room and finds Hazel.

Her back is turned to Arden. She wears a dark pantsuit, her brunette hair cascading down her shoulders in gentle waves.

Arden slouches against the doorframe and watches as Hazel spreads peach jam onto a slice of toasted bread. Hazel turns, pausing when she notices Arden smiling.

“You’re up,” she says, “How did you sleep?”

“Mm… good…”

Hazel nods. “I have a meeting in half an hour, so I’ll be leaving soon. Call me after you get off work.”

Arden grins. “I will.”

There’s a hint of a smile resting on Hazel’s lips seeing her beam like that. “Go shower. I laid out clothes and toiletries for you already.”

A surge of delight rushes through Arden. She murmurs a quick thanks to Hazel and finds her way into the bathroom, blushing when she takes in her disheveled appearance. After casting her dress shirt aside, she showers quickly, running the soaped loofah over her aching body. Fifteen minutes later, she pops out of the bathroom whilst drying her hair.

Hazel had left. The kitchen is empty, and the hotel room feels much bigger without her presence.

Arden shuffles to the island where a plateful of toast and strawberries await. A steaming mug of coffe sits beside the dish. Her surprise melts into elation, and she smiles. Arden is only slightly disappointed she isn’t able to share breakfast with Hazel, but she’s learned to take what she can get. After all, she is about to eat toast that Hazel toasted herself.

As Arden nibbles on her breakfast, her phone lights up with a new notification. It’s a text from Luz. She types out a quick reply just before biting into a strawberry.

Luz: How’s Milan?

Arden: Better than I could’ve ever imagined :)

#choices #playchoices #hazel nguyen #hot couture #hazel x mc #choices hot couture #choices hc #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #pixelberry

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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

Text

♖ afflatus, /əˈflādəs/ a divine creative impulse or inspiration.

♖ pairing: xu minghao x reader (painter x royal au) ♖ warnings: hella long oops ♖ wc: 5k words

♖ a/n: new fandom to write for, new record of a word count, who am i damn HWJBJDSFHS anyways i hope u guys like this pls lmk what u think bc im kinda nervous HAHAH

You’d grown up with a penchant for pretty things.

Your gaze of innocent youth widening with wonder at your mother’s glittering jewels, your father’s heavy crown, laughing at the splashing fountains across the vast gardens that spewed crystalline water amongst shimmering koi.

Yet with age, the gilded champagne tinted chandeliers, flowing gowns of all pale and deep hues, and all the other little beauteous wonders thrust at you across the years whether you desired them or not, became dull.

The listening to melodies became the study of notes and aching of fingertips, the joy of dancing became tight shoes and even stiffer, polite movements; every little action and hobby seemed to soon become a task of royalty.

“Who made that?”

It’s not any style you recognize, with furrowed eyebrows you study the art hanging on Lord Jun’s wall in his quarters, almost as a habit of your studies.

You’re parsing through the list of painters in your mind that you’d been forced to memorize the previous week, as Jun laughs.

“I didn’t know you were interested in art, your highness.”

You shoot him a glare, and he fails to hide his grin as he stuffs his garments into his luggage. While Jun was a lord of your father’s council, your close ages allowed you both to maintain a close friendship, and he knew most of your recent complaints with sympathy.

He was currently packing for an ambassador trip back at his home kingdom, and you were attempting to dispel the simmering disappointment at your closest friend leaving for even just a few weeks.

“A friend painted it for me. Do you like it?”

“It’s pretty.”

And for once, you mean it.

“You’ll meet him soon enough I believe. Your mother has been wanting an artist on grounds for family portraits and I recommended him.”

“What’s his name?” You squint, the squiggle of signature in the corner incomprehensible to you.

“Xu Minghao.” Jun answers.

“He’s not from here?”

Jun hums, casting you a glance, noting how you’ve yet to take your eyes off the painting.

“I think you’ll take a liking to him.”

Jun’s letter is like a piece of home to Minghao, the script messier than his own, but in the familiar tongue that Minghao whispers to himself softly as the tide laps at his feet.

He knows his decision before he even reaches the end of the parchment, but reads through anyways, and folds it neatly back into his pocket. Heavy, umber eyes watch the rolling waves for a few more moments, chipping absently away at the dried paint on the tips of his slender fingers, before making his way back to the tiny house a little ways away with his hollow knocking heart.

Minghao packs his belongings the early morning of his departure, not looking back once at the shabby house he’d spent the past few months in as he canters away on his black mare, eyes set on the salt spraying sea he was really leaving behind instead.

He wonders if palace gardens were a satisfying alternative.

The idea of stable housing and food was enough to satiate his artistic nitpicking for the time being, and Minghao makes a silent promise to return to the sea one day.

Minghao is introduced to you a day after he arrives and the day Jun leaves.

Wind strewn dark hair grown past his ears, worn leather vest, paint flecked billowing sleeves of eggshell white, black loose pants, and scuffed shoes. He’s the opposite of your delicate satin gown, immaculately styled curls, and dainty accessories, but you feel as if you’re the one out of place as you observe him, both of you waiting for Jun in the courtyard, finishing his farewell to your parents.

He’s quiet, long features often solemn, sometimes slipping upwards in a small smile at the littlest of things or out of politeness.

You’re about to attempt to start conversation to fill the silence, but another voice cuts in.

“I hope you’ll behave while I’m gone.” Jun grins at you, appearing from the large doors with your parents in tow, shining brightly under the beaming sunlight, and you snort, relieved.

“I should be the one telling you that. God knows what you’d do without me.”

“Rejoice, of course.”

Your retort is muffled as he gathers you in an embrace, which you return just as strongly.

“I’ll write as soon as I settle.” He promises, and you only nod as you watch him move to Minghao, absently listening to the soft Mandarin they used to converse.

“Watch over her, yeah?”

“Me?” Minghao blinks, the surprise etched on his features comical to Jun who laughs. Jun knows you well enough that your curiosity would eventually overtake your tiptoeing around Minghao, but for the artist, while loneliness wasn’t ideal, he’d endure it no matter how much it gnawed at him.

“And yourself as well. You both need more friends. You can’t always be alone.”

The words settle forlornly in the pit of Minghao’s stomach as Jun draws him in, patting him on the back before he clambers upon the saddle, waving one last time before setting off.

Your mother suggests then that you provide a tour for Minghao before he begins his work the next day, claiming it as practice for future diplomatic encounters, and you almost miss his curiously amused glint in his eyes as you murmur a quiet agreement, beckoning him to follow you once you Jun becomes a tiny speck in the distance of your squinted vision.

The royal gardens do not disappoint as the last destination, almost exceeding Jun’s scrawling description within his letter, Minghao realizes with satisfaction.

The soft hum of fat bumblebees puttering across the extensive variety of blooms that were maintained to their fullest in neat order, along with the trickling ponds and fountains you could hear if you honed in just enough by the glade of willow trees where you decided to end the tour.

Minghao settles down on one of the bumpy roots, closing his eyes as he rests his hand on the cool bark, the other twirling the blades of grass by his thigh.

You’ve convinced yourself he’s fallen asleep, breaths rising slowly as his movements cease, but suddenly his eyes open, meeting yours, and you flush as if you’d been caught in the wrong.

“Would you like to meet here tomorrow morning to begin the portrait?”

You can only stammer a hasty agreement, and the lanky boy stands, gazing up at the filtered sunlight between the leaves with slightly squinted eyes.

“I would say you could return to your daily activities, but if I’m honest, I don’t remember how to return to the palace.” He admits after a moment, and you duck your head to hide your smile, but he catches it with one of his own.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

While you’re sure there’s a deeper meaning, the head piece currently sitting upon your tightly styled hair, was indeed weighty, and didn’t assist your focus of maintaining a still, straight posture.

“You fidget a lot. Your highness.” Minghao adds on respectfully after a beat, and you immediately cease your movements, smiling sheepishly.

“My apologies. I’ve never liked getting my portrait done. When I was younger I remember they always had to promise me my favourite sweet afterwards.”

“I’ll try to finish as quickly as I can then.” He grins wryly. “Or perhaps I can request the cook to make something specific for tonight’s dessert.”

You fail to hold in your shaking laughs, but Minghao doesn’t mind.

Minghao doesn’t see you often after he completes the portrait.

It seems to be an occurrence for most around the palace, the few acquaintances Minghao made telling him it was common now for you to be holed up in a study, while you used to constantly tag around the kitchens, amble around the stables, and meander the gardens. He’s slightly disappointed in your lack of appearance, but fills his time with roaming around the palace grounds himself and satisfying his artistic needs.

He meets you again by accident (or fate), as he brushes aside the curtain of flowers that concealed a small space he’d discovered yesterday, perfect for peaceful painting.

The air is charged with awkward stumbling as Minghao fumbles with his armload of supplies and you bolt up from your relaxed position, but you’re quick to react, snapping your book shut lightly.

“I’ll leave you to work. I’m sure your artistry requires more of the space than I do.”

“Please, stay.”

You’re convinced that he’s only insisting you stay out of courtesy, but you know he’s one to not say something he doesn’t mean, so you settle back down, skirt pooling under you, lace hem fluttering like your heart.

“How are you liking the kingdom so far?” You prompt as he sets up his palette, and Minghao shrugs, flicking a few stray strands of hair impatiently from his eyes. It leaves a smudge of paint on his forehead, and you smile in the secrecy of your pages.

“It’s not home, but it’s pleasant.”

“Will you tell me about your home?”

Home.

The word pangs in Minghao’s chest like an empty echo in a gaping chasm, but he obliges, hoping to fill it with his memories, recalling the sound of rain outside his window, the croaking of frogs at night, and the aroma of his mother’s cooking.

You listen carefully, closing your eyes as you do, inhaling slowly the scent of honeysuckle, lulling you to peaceful bliss. Minghao’s voice is calming, lilting and gentle, and eventually fades out of your consciousness.

He’s not sure how long it is that he’s been speaking while you’ve slept, surprising even himself as he usually prefers painting in peace, but the pale array of buds on the stretched canvas bloomed with a sleeping form as the sun slowly begins to switch places with the moon.

Time is unrivaled as Minghao loses himself to the simple intricacies of his art, until a messenger arrives.

“Your highness.” The address comes with a gentle shake to your shoulder, and you rise slowly, rubbing your eyes drowsily.

“What happened?”

“You've been called for dinner.” Minghao explains. “You fell asleep in the garden.”

“My apologies,” you bow your head lightly, regret washing over you as you notice the orange tinged sky, a contrast to the baby blue of when you last recalled consciousness. “I hope I didn’t waste your entire day waiting upon me.”

Minghao thinks of the piece behind him, palms dusted with the colour of your chiffon gown, and shakes his head.

“I didn’t.”

Minghao almost falls asleep amidst the bustle of ballgowns and coattails, the lilting laughter and flirty chatter tuned out, an imprinted mark left on his face as he starts at a tap on his shoulder.

“Won’t you dance?”

Your voice is sweet and quizzical, and he shakes his head timidly, an expression you had used to mistake for solemness, and you sigh.

“Why not? It’s fairly easy.”

“I don’t dance.”

It’s a blatant lie, and Minghao knows you see through it, his guilty eyes flicking away from your gaze hurriedly as he utters it. As you hold your hand out knowingly, Minghao grudgingly takes it, letting himself be pulled onto the floor where other pairs flocked like seagulls.

Faint crescents of colour are under his neatly trimmed nails, calloused palms a contrast to the gentle grip of his hands.

Minghao hopes you don’t notice the way they shake slightly.

The music starts, and he stumbles in the sudden rapidity of the orchestra, and you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your giggles, which he notices with narrowed eyes. It’s almost forgotten as you’re immersed within the dance, reminding Minghao of the sea, of home, and the thrumming of his heart.

“You said you didn’t dance.” You accuse breathlessly as the music fades and you’re both upon the sidelines once more, and Minghao blinks.

“You said it would be easy.” He retorts, and you grin cheekily.

“Forgive me, I suspected you weren’t entirely speaking the truth. Especially considering Jun told me a bit about your skills upon mentioning the ball to him in his last correspondence.”

“Of course.” Minghao purses his lips, hiding a smile as he tugs at his collar, fanning himself lightly.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You’re already making your way to the exit, and Minghao finds himself following subconsciously.

“Now?” He blinks, and you nod.

“No one will notice, if only for a few moments to cool down. It does get fairly stuffy at events such as these.”

As if sensing his hesitancy with his darting glances around the ballroom, you grab his arm, a glowing flush on your features as you tug him along. He excuses his own blush creeping up his neck upon the crowd, dispelled sharply when you both meet the crisp night air.

“I didn’t take you for a worrier, Xu Minghao.” You grin as you prop yourself up easily on the short garden wall, implying to Minghao that you’ve done this before.

“I didn’t know your highness was such a rebelliously improper figure.”

He hops up next to you with a smile as you laugh, trickling off to a content sigh that puffs out wispily, hanging in the air before dissipating. Legs are kicked lightly, childishly, heels thumping against the wall, filling the comfortable silence.

“We should go inside, your highness.” Minghao notices with a murmur, but he makes no move himself, entranced with the way the pale moonlight filters itself across your upturned features. His fingers itch for his paints, to resolve the artistic ache within his chest at this scene, but instead he resorts to memorizing every little detail in breathlessness. “You’re shivering.”

“Just a little longer.”

He’s in no position to argue, but his fingers twitch at the hem of his coat, battling with whether it is appropriate to shrug it off and drape it upon your shoulders, but before he can make the decision, you turn with a satisfied smile upon your lips.

“Shall we have another dance?”

Minghao convinces himself it’s the bubbling champagne that tells him to agree, and for once since arriving, he feels his heart’s solid rhythm.

When you don’t make an appearance within the gardens for the first day since the ball, Minghao tells himself he isn’t fazed. He blames the frustration of his art upon the fact that he’s not entirely used to sketching, crumpled parchment littering the grass.

Yet as the second and third day toiled by, the wilting pink camellias in the heat are all that Minghao can depict, and he takes it as a sign, gathering up some supplies hastily in a coarse bag before roaming the palace.

He has to ask for directions in some areas, but eventually reaches where he wants to be.

You don’t hear the argued exclamations outside your chambers, but when your door cracks open, you struggle from under your bundle of blankets to sit up.

“I thought you would be bored and brought you some things to do.”

“How did you get inside? I thought I told Chan to not let anyone in.” You frown hoarsely, and Minghao grins.

“I convinced him to let me have five minutes.”

“The poor boy.” You laugh, trickling into a fit of coughs, and Minghao rushes awkwardly to the water pitcher at your bedside table, but you wave him off, pouring it yourself.

“What did you bring?” You inquire curiously as you sip your water, straining your neck to watch him slip out brushes, thick parchment, a palette with circles of varying colours, along with a few books.

“I hope this is alright.” He places them all on your mattress in methodicalness, and you immediately examine them all.

“Thank you.”

He opens his mouth to utter something, but the door bursts open with Chan in tow, and he leaves you with a dry grin and a slight bow.

The watercolour blooms through the paper with every touch of the thin bristles across your page as you amuse yourself, and that morning, Minghao finds solace in the freshly bloomed tulips that were speckled with dew-like tears.

The corridor your room lies within seems to draw Minghao towards it, even when his desired destination is far from the route.

This caused Minghao to form a friendly relationship with your personal guard, Chan, who often updated him upon your status during your sickness.

“Could you take my place for a few moments while I run to the kitchens?” Chan pleads the second Minghao appears one morning. “Soonyoung told me that Mingyu baked, and I’m sure the princess wouldn’t mind if it was you.”

Minghao doesn’t have the time to confirm or deny the young guard before he rushes off eagerly, and while he’d normally be annoyed, he’d been meaning to ask you a question anyways.

“Your highness?” Minghao tiptoes tentatively after his knock on the door receives no answer, and ventures further in.

He’s honestly not entirely sure what occurred, perhaps he bumped his head on his stumbling out of your chambers, but his cheeks are hot as he leans against the door to catch his breath, bidding the glances at your bare skin away.

“What’s wrong?” Chan has crumbs speckling his chin as he tilts his head at Minghao, curiously innocent, with a pastry in his hand as he returns to his post.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Your door cracks open with you fully clothed much to his relief, saving Minghao from Chan’s oncoming suspicious questioning as you beckon to him.

“Would you like to come in?”

You both settle down on the small sofa by your window, and Minghao shuffles awkwardly.

“Chan told me you were feeling better.”

“I am.” You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palms as silence ensues for a beat. “I suppose I have to thank Chan for his responsibility in our wedding now.”

“What?” Minghao sputters, a few seconds too late to the processing of your words.

“Didn’t you know?” Minghao’s stomach roils. “If anyone other than family sees a royal indecently it’s considered taboo if they’re not immediately married.”

He catches the twitch of your lips after surveying your expression carefully for a few moments, and groans, posture sagging.

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is.” You insist with a boisterous laugh, and he can’t help but grin at the sound. When you calm down, swiping giddy tears away from your eyes, you tilt your head at him.

“Did you only want to find me because I was feeling better?”

“I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Your inquisitive gaze encourages him to continue, and he picks at the end of his thumb nail timidly.

“May I paint you again?”

He refuses to let you see the progress of the portrait.

It’s a breezy afternoon when you give up your pestering, Minghao warning that he’d leave it unfinished. While you know he never would, you silence your curiosity temporarily, biting your tongue as Minghao smirks.

“The wind keeps moving your hair.” He huffs, partly to himself. “May I?” Minghao gestures lightly towards your hair with a questioning raise of his eyebrows and you nod your consent.

You try not to shiver as he brushes aimless strands back into their place, adjusting your shoulders and angle of your chin with feather light touches. It’s no use, at least for your hair, the wind deviating it constantly.

“Perhaps we should continue another day, when the weather is more forgiving.” He muses, pads of his fingertips lightly twirling stray strands once more before falling to his side before returning to pack up his easel.

Your voice seems to be caught in his pigment streaked palms, but when he smiles at you boyishly, you know he understands.

Neither of you show it until the painting is finished, and Minghao thinks there’s something beautiful about the way it ties you both together.

“Your highness, your mother requests your presence in the study hall.”

“Thank you Seokmin.” You smile at the messenger, who beams back as you attempt to not shift. “We’re almost finished, I’ll be there shortly.”

He scurries off, peeking at the painting with wide eyes, and your mind races at the imaginings of the completed piece.

“Would you like to see?” Minghao finally sets down his brush, glancing at you as he runs a hand through his hair amusedly, stepping back. Eagerly, you amble up to Minghao’s side, shoulder brushing against his as you peer at the canvas with wide eyes.

“It’s beautiful.”

“My place here is to simply paint what I see.” Minghao distracts himself from your gaze, bending down to pick up a fallen flower at his feet. When he rises, his eyes finally meet yours, and neither of you can help leaning forwards.

The kiss is delicate and sweet, lips like crushing silk petals against yours, as sweet as nectar, intoxicating your senses and making your head spin.

“I have to leave.” You murmur, pulling away reluctantly.

His smile is devastating, you think, gentle and adoring, his thumb brushing against your jaw; you know in that moment that you’ve lost a part of yourself to him, given as freely as the soft breeze in the arching branches above, holding you both in a secret lover’s haven.

“Go.” He nods, and a part of you wishes he’d told you the opposite, but you both know the impossibility of asking that. As if he can sense your hesitancy, his fingers fall, moving to clasp your hands lightly. “I’ll still be here when you’re finished.”

“You swear it?”

This draws out a chuckle, and while you realize it’s a foolish inquiry, when he tucks the gardenia bloom behind your ear affectionately, you want to hide there with him until the tides stopped and the sun’s flames flickered out of existence; until the impossible became a common ideal.

“I swear.”

You rush off after hearing his promise, resisting the urge to kiss him again, knowing you’d be held later if you were any more tardy to your lessons, out of breath by the time you reach the hall.

“You’ve got a smudge on your face.” Your mother huffs, reaching out to swipe at it with her thumb, but you dodge it, glancing in the mirror, gently touching the streaks of colour with a fond smile, as if you were touching the fingertips that left them.

Your heart seems to thrum freely out of your chest around Minghao.

Whether it’s the sound of his soft laughter, the focused expression he adorns as he immerses himself within his art, or the fact that thinking about, speaking to, or kissing him seems to make you late for almost everything.

“Is there a fire?”

The corner of Minghao’s lips quirks up amusedly as you stumble backwards from colliding with him in the corridor, adjusting your skirt hurriedly as he steadies you with firm hands.

“Minghao.” You drop a quick curtsy, and he bows in return, albeit confused as you brush past him, borderline running down the plush carpet.

“Should I be running too?” He shouts after you, ignoring the stares he gained in the corridor.

“I’m just late for my lessons!” You call out with a laugh, turning back, and Minghao giggles as you bump into Seungkwan, who almost topples over, causing more apologetic fussing from you.

He darts after you after a pause of thinking, and it’s not difficult for him to catch up, the surprise on your expression a contrast to his gleeful one as he grabs your hand, making you halt, tugging you close.

“Minghao, someone could see-”

He pays no attention to your paranoia, knowing as well as you did that the study hall was kept empty for the sake of your focus, cupping your face warmly as he met your lips breathlessly.

“I’ll see you after?”

You believe sometimes that you have him pieced together, until he shakes the puzzle board with a cheeky grin.

Minghao doesn’t remember the throne room being this intimidating. The thrones seemed to tower over his head, banners and artworks of historical wars and ancestors adorning the walls, all scrutinizing him.

He feels small, a scurrying insect to be crushed under the heavy boot of societal status. You’d both known that the time to reveal your relationship to your parents was better to come sooner than later and from your own mouths, but in the situation itself, Minghao feels uneasy.

“You know of his nature in his time here.” You argue persistently, and your parents are silent, the epitome of stoic rulers, and Minghao is almost afraid. “He is kind, and has treated me with nothing but respect and love-”

“What will the people say when it's revealed you’ve chosen a foreign commoner to be your husband?” Your father interjects, and this only stokes the passionate fire in your eyes, while simultaneously making Minghao flinch at the searing heat in the words.

“HIs talents will take him far. He won’t be just a commoner soon enough. I know you know this-”

He clambers to his feet suddenly, startling everyone, who seemed to have forgotten his presence despite him being the topic of discussion.

“Pardon my interruption.” He bows stiffly. “But if I may offer a suggestion?”

Minghao takes the silence as agreement, and barrels on hurriedly.

“I would like to request leave from my work here, to travel amongst kingdoms with my art. I’ll return a known man, and I’ll be worthy of your daughter’s hand, if you’ll have me.”

“That could take years.” Your mother blinks, and Minghao’s reply is quiet.

“Yes.”

“You expect us to wait for something that might not even happen?” Your father raises an eyebrow.

“Father-” you stand abruptly next to him, and Minghao grips your hand. You silence, looking at him incredulously.

“May I ask how long you would be willing to wait?”

Your mother murmurs something to your father, who contemplates before answering, and the words overturn the trickling hourglass of your fates.

“Two summers from now.”

You don’t speak to him until the next day, when he leaves.

He doesn’t hold any grudge against your actions, but as the dawning sun peeks over the horizon, the reins of his mare tightly gripped in his hands, the tightness in his throat is only relieved by your appearance in the wispy dewed morning.

“I’m sorry.” You breathe as you approach him, and something inside him aches at the melancholy in your eyes as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What for?” He whispers softly, thumb stroking your cheekbone tenderly.

“I wanted to see you before this. But I couldn’t. And now we only have a few spare minutes.”

“We’ll have all the time in the world when I return.” He murmurs, and you know he means it, yet the sincerity in his eyes couldn’t ever explain the way he would move the hands of time himself and mould the world to your own desires if you simply asked.

“My heart has belonged to you since that day you convinced me to stay.” You confess quietly, and Minghao listens intently. “Call me foolish for it’s easily swayed nature, I know I have, but it’s true.” Your voice doesn’t waver, it’s firm, and you’re staring at him with intensity, but he can see the fragility of your words. “I only ask that you be gentle with it.”

His hands fit loosely with yours, cupping them in his palms gently as he kneels, bringing them to his lips, bowing his head slightly, resembling the swaying bluebells at his back.

“I wouldn’t tend to it in any other manner.”

Jun returns soon after Minghao leaves, when the leaves tint with orange and scarlet, and your fingertips are always cold no matter how deep you delve them into your sleeves.

“I crossed paths briefly with Minghao on my way back.” He muses, hands cupping a steaming mug as he kicks lightly at the littered leaves on the ground.

“How is he?”

“Good.” Jun smiles reassuringly at your troubled gaze. “He’s working hard.”

“He hasn’t written to me lately.” You sigh, tracing the rim of your cup lightly, the scent of cinnamon apple wafting up from the ceramic. “And I don’t wish to bother him with my own letters.”

“He just doesn’t want you to worry.” His voice trails off quietly, almost commenting to himself. “I think he knows the most out of us that this is not all guaranteed.”

The icy wind nips at you, settling in your bones, and you both decide to go inside silently.

All to keep you company when springtide returned was creased parchment, each having worn edges from the amount of times you’d reread them, fingertips tracing the flowing ink.

Jun had departed once more in the winter, and while Minghao sent letters whenever he could, he divulged no time to when he would return.

It’s not until the weather warms, and the sunsets are softer, that you get your answer.

“Lord Jun has arrived. And he’s brought Xu Minghao.” Seokmin breathes, bursting into the study room and it’s not missed how you go rigid, fingers twitching to push back your chair before pausing.

“Go.” Your mother waves her hand amusedly, and you scramble from the table, maneuvering your skirt impatiently in bunched fists, striding steps racing towards Jun’s quarters.

“He made his way to the garden.” Jun smirks, and you think it’s entirely typical for Minghao to make you run around like this as you catch your breath in the doorway.

“How was your trip?” You breathe in an attempt to fill the silence politely as Jun unpacks his belongings.

“Do you care?”

It’s an amused jest, but well aimed, and you snort truthfully.

“At the particular moment, no, but-”

“Go.” Jun cuts in, laughing. “You’ve waited long enough.”

The words don’t fail to bring a giddy beam upon your features as you heed his words, and Jun thinks he’s never seen you this illuminated, with a fond heart.

You find Minghao by the white rosebuds, and you can’t help stop and admire the way his upturned features glow under the pale blue sky, as if he never left, a heavenly image.

“Xu Minghao.”

He looks at you, eyes fluttering open, and he tries to hide back a smile, pursing his lips as you step towards him.

His touch is as gentle as you remember, kisses as warm and honeyed, and you almost weep when his thumb runs along your cheekbone tenderly.

“I have something to show you.” He brightens, one hand drifting to the covered canvas at his shoes, the other gripping your own gently.

“I went back to the sea before I came back to you.” Minghao explains, carefully undraping the sheet, and you can only gaze at the revealed painting with wide eyes. It was you, sitting amidst the lapping waves that only seemed to get more turbulent as they strayed farther from your grasp, as if you were ruler of the seas. “I remember before I came here, the sea was the only thing that gave me comfort away from my home. But when I went back, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, with me there, the hard work that I endured to get here to you, and the sea suddenly was cold and unfamiliar.”

“I love you.” He professes simply after a heartbeat, and he shushes you fondly when you sniffle, and all you can do is thump his chest lightly with your fist. He laughs aloud, as you say it back, once, twice, bright and beautiful, and you join him, swaying in one another’s embrace, with all the time the universe could offer.

♖ tags: @writeiolite

#seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagines #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagines #the8 imagines #the8 x reader #myungho imagines #svt imagines #svt x reader #I HOPE IM NOT MISSING PARTS THATD BE SO EMBARRASSING WHJSBDJFSH

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writeraquamarinara · 4 years

Note

9 & 15 🖤🖤

9. What are your top fan fiction recommendations?

Oh god does anyone remember when I was doing my alphabetical Bughead fanfic recs? I think I only got to E… whoops. I had them picked out for every letter, though! I just never got around to writing the rec itself.

So here’s the list, if anyone’s interested (please keep in mind that this was compiled over a year ago and I have not updated it with any new fics):

A- Achievement Unlocked by @stillscape

B- body talks by @justcourbeau

C- The Con by @jerepars

D- ‘Date with a Bulldog’ Auction by @noorakardemmomesaetre

E- everywhere he touches (is fire) by @whaticameherefor

F- fragile little flame by @rivervixens

G- a great language by @heartunsettledsoul (why is tumblr not letting me tag her properly !!)

H- Harvest to Home by AdamantEve, aka @writeradamanteve

I- I’ll be there to watch the fire (burn us both alive) by @aisforr

J- Just Like Broken Glass by @aswellingstorm

K- Keys by @ieatbooksfortea

L- Love to Hate You by @i-know-you-can

M- may my heart be your shelter (and my arms be your home) by smoochmejuggie (idk their tumblr username, so if someone does pls lmk and I’ll add it!)

N- Next Time by Naoko_Asakura (same deal: don’t know their tumblr username, unfortunately, but lmk if you do!)

O- oil and water by @onceuponamirror

P- Painted Skin by MotherMaple

Q- Queen Me by @forasecondtherewedwon

R- A River in Egypt by @hellodinoflower

S- simmer down and pucker up by Santiagone (not sure if the tumblr username is the same)

T- take me home by @sylwrites

U- Underlines by @imreallyloveleee

V- viva americana by @heavy-lies-the-crown

W- Wilder Mind by @secretsofthesky

X- 10 Things to Love About Her by @thetaoofbetty

Y- You’ve made your bed (now lie in it) by MotherMaple

Z- Zero to Sixty by @stillscape

This list was incredibly hard to compile, and obviously a ton of incredible fics were left out. I would just use this as an authors rec list as well: anything these people have written is gold.

I also have a whole other list of Bughead series that I love, which I didn’t allow myself to add here, that includes a bunch of other authors, so I’ll add those in too:

The Adventures of Porkchop and Caramel by StarlightAfterAStorm

all the roads we have to walk by @stillscape

Back to You & I’ll Be Good (series) by @whaticameherefor

Book of Love by @heavy-lies-the-crown

coexist by @sopaloma

Cowboy Jones by @writeradamanteve

Fall in Light by @sylwrites

For a good time, call Betty by MotherMaple

Heavy Ceiling by @jerepars

Intermissions by @yavannie

Literary Works by @happilyshanghaied

lyrical inspirations by @whaticameherefor

On Borrowed Time by @aisforr

ranch-flavored off-brand Doritos by @stillscape

Reignite Our Love by @whaticameherefor

Something To Tell You by @findingbetty

Sucker Love by RemitheDaydreamer

viva las vegas by @jordansconnor

Fic writers that still have not been mentioned but you should be flailing over:

@sheriff-snikety-snake

@flwrpotts

@jugandbettsdetectiveagency

@ithoughtyoulikedmereckless

@catthecoder

@iconic-ponytail

@stirringsofconsciousness

@satelliteinasupernova

@stonerbughead

@wolfofansbach

@indiebughead

@miss-eee

@teapotfiction

@allskynostars

@cooperandjonesinc

Just search for all of their AO3s and you’ll have enough incredible fic to last you longer than this quarantine (hopefully)

15. What are you most looking forward to when the quarantine is over?

I’m looking forward to leaving the house, seeing my friends in person, going to the library, watching movies in theaters, tanning on the beach, getting into my gym routine again, being less stressed out by the state of the world.

Thank you so much for the asks!

#long post #asks #answered #fic recs #for days #mari's alphabet thing has now been reduced to this post because she can never finish anything she starts #i'm so sorry this was rushed or else I would have added links to all of them

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jincherie · 5 years

Text

tentacledipity | four

➛pairing: jimin x reader

➛genre: alien au, space au, soulmate au, wanted au, smut (coming)

➛rating: sfw

➛words: 8.1k

➛warnings: none! well, a sprinkle of grinding and tentacle mentions but other than that *shrugs*

➛notes: finished this in the early hours of the morning so please dont mind any spelling or grammar mistakes if there are any pls & thank u!! also thank u for being so patient, uni isn’t kicking my ass per se but it’s definitely taking up a lot of my time these days! i hope u all like the next does of tentacle adventures!

ps; I will add links at a later date! pls enjoy & lmk what u think!

This tale starts, as any good fiction does, with a girl crash landing on a foreign planet. And, like any good fiction, it follows a theme of serendipitous happening, and tentacles. Behold, serendipity and tentacles— or dare we call it…. tentacledipity.

— posted; 23.04.2019 // ↞ prev. || four || next ↠

“What, you’re not even going to try and stop me?”

At your question, the two males shared an exasperated look.

“Well, no,” Jongin answered plainly, pointing an accusatory finger your way as he narrowed his eyes halfheartedly. “What is the point? You are just going to get away, anyway.”

Your incredulous gaze was drawn to Jongdae next, as he continued where his partner left off. He seemed entirely too pleased with himself, lips curled in a smug, kittenish grin and his expression sly, marks coloured light yellow. “Besides, we are no longer required to watch you. We have been relieved of our duties. Which, personally, I am more than glad for. I think I have aged more than ten sweeps from the stress alone of trying to keep track of you. Really, are all humans so slippery?”

“No, probably not. Just me.” You shrugged in answer, before his earlier words caught your attention and you gaped. “Wait—what do you mean ‘relieved of your duties’? I’m free?”

Jongin shrugged, stretching indolently across the cushioned swing that you’d found him and Jongdae reclining on, out on a patio near your rooms, when you’d attempted to sneak out of the wing. Now that you thought about it, they did have a particularly carefree air right now, something you weren’t really expecting considering how wired you’ve seen them some days. Jongdae swung one leg over the other, completely lax. The action left you in a state of shock, almost.

You continued to sputter for a moment, your brain unable to comprehend the sudden change in the status quo. Sure, this whole time you’d protested the fact that they thought you needed babysitting—ignoring the fact that it was thanks to an incident that came about thanks to you being a dumbass. But, if you weren’t under ‘watch’ anymore… who were you going to have fun evading and escaping? This was the highlight of your days sometimes, what were you going to do now that you couldn’t do it anymore? This felt like a big disruption to the routine you’d established here.

“Do not know, do not care,” Jongdae smiled at you. “We have not been told what will be happening.”

“Wh-what so I’m just, I’m just supposed to sneak around and pretend there are people trying to catch me?” you burst, feeling a little indignant. They should have consulted you first! This was unfair. “Who am I supposed to torment when I’m bored? Who am I supposed to trick with sweets and flee while they’re distracted?!”

Jongin lurched forward, eyes wide. “So you ADMIT that you did that to trick us!”

“No!” you wailed, mournfully. You turned away, dramatic as they likely expected you to be. “They were friend gifts… but I guess they mean nothing now. I’m… I’m leaving. I’m ending my friendship with you two. I’ll…I’ll find some other guard friends— better guard friends— who will chase me as long as I want them to!”

You stomped your foot, fighting a smile at the sound of their barely restrained snorts. You give them a half-hearted glare over your shoulder before turning and yelling, “Don’t look for me! You won’t find me!”

The second you started to walk away they could no longer hold their laughter and the sound of it makes you grin as you retreat down the hall, not bothering to try and sneak as you had earlier now that you knew no one was there to catch you. It was oddly liberating, to be honest, and you didn’t quite know what to do with the freedom. Maybe that’s because even when they were ‘watching’ you, you weren’t exactly restricted. Really, it was a wonder Jimin made them try for so long when it clearly had little to no effect.

Your arms swung a bit as you walked, a bounce in your step. You can’t even remember where you were going in the first place now. It wouldn’t surprise you at all if you didn’t even have a destination in mind when you left your room, actually. You’d been a bit lost in your thoughts lately.

There was a certain someone to blame for it.

As usual, the source of your dilemmas and deep-thinking was the ever-elusive Mister Jimin. Except, after the events of the other night in the hall, which were still painfully fresh in your memory, he had lost his right to the ‘elusive’ title. He hadn’t been bothering to try and avoid you any longer, something that kind of made you want to scream. It was what you wanted, yes, but not quite so soon and so intensely. You’d been in withdrawal for weeks and then he’d gone and given you such a big hit at once that you weren’t ready for it. You’d probably need another three weeks to come to terms with the male’s sudden flip that night and following one-eighty change in behaviour.

You were a little ashamed and excited to admit that he’d completely turned the tables and now you were the one frazzled and flustered. You couldn’t see his face in the halls—an alarmingly much more common occurrence after that night—without thinking of how it had felt when he pushed you to the wall, the way his body slotted so perfectly against yours. Every time your thoughts strayed to the memory the very same butterflies you felt that night returned with renewed vigour and you were flustered all over again.

Was this how he felt? All those times you tried so hard to fluster him? God, perhaps you were more annoying than you initially accepted.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the fact that the dynamic between you had shifted so suddenly and so sharply. Admittedly, that night if he had asked you to get on you hands and knees you wouldn’t have even blinked before doing so. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice…. They brought out a side of you that didn’t see the light of day that often. Honestly, you’d spent a lot of nights reflecting on what happened and you’d since realised that there wasn’t much that you wouldn’t let that man do to you.

Even so, you weren’t a submissive person by nature, despite your inclination in the bedroom, and you really didn’t want him to think that was the case. You wanted to give back as good as you got, and every time you left your room you steeled yourself to doing so should you run across him.

Except it was a little easier said than done. Despite your affirmations, the second you caught sight of him the butterflies would return and you’d turn tail and run. It was shameful, and you were incredibly embarrassed at your own behaviour. Your mother didn’t raise a coward! It was just that, perhaps, you were a little more rattled and flustered than you allowed yourself to believe.

You realised you needed to be more firm with yourself, though. You needed to make yourself stay and interact with him or you’d never get over the ridiculous butterflies or the way your heart flipped and your pulse started to race. Again, today, you steeled yourself and resolved yourself to sit through the suffering if you happened to run into him again. At the slight tone of flustered panic that ran through you at the thought, you were quick to reassure yourself that it actually wasn’t that likely you’d run into him at all.

Well, historically you had been prone to being proven wrong when assuming such things and today wasn’t an exception.

In your wandering of the halls like a ghost with unresolved business in the material plane, looking for something to entertain yourself with, you happened to walk past a room that had a number of funky sounds coming from within. Intrigued and able to smell entertainment from probably a mile away, you were eager to investigate once you saw that the door was slightly ajar.

When you pushed it open, you quickly realised that you probably should have waited and listened to the sounds a bit more first. But, well, you were nothing if not an idiot and at this point, you were at peace with it.

“Stop! Stop, I am too old for this! Gods, Jiminie, where do you get all this energy from?!”

Confused as to exactly what you just walked into, you leant against the doorframe as you watched Seokjin bend over slightly with his hands on his knees to brace himself. He was wearing a different sort of clothing than you’ve seen before, the fit and material resembling more fitness-wear than anything. His breath came in short pants, apparently winded from whatever he and the other male had been doing before you walked in. Which, you realised quickly from the weapons along the wall and the cushioning along the ground, was… fighting?

Seokjin rattled something out in his native tongue and Jimin burst into laughter from where he stood, stretching a few feet away. He was dressed similarly to Seokjin and god if it wasn’t the most mouth-watering image you’d ever seen in your entire life. Deep blue material complimented his honey skin and raven hair perfectly, not that you thought there would be a colour that didn’t suit Jimin. His marks were a delighted summer yellow and the apples of his cheeks were flushed in slight exertion. Seokjin was in a similar state but unfortunately for him you were too whipped for Jimin to appreciate it as you should have.

Jimin said something you couldn’t understand to the elder male, who burst out loudly in response, “I have duties, you @#&@)#! Not all of us can do whatever we want, you know, I am the one stuck with the royal duties today! Find someone else to help you.”

Jimin was grinning, but seemed a bit disappointed at Seokjin’s answer to whatever he had said. A part of you wandered exactly what Seokjin had called him and you regretted that you didn’t know much kelkoe at all. Seokjin let out a pained noise as he stretched, closing his eyes, and all of a sudden you were overcome with the realisation that you were in the same room, in very close proximity, with Jimin.

Instantly, as you expected, the butterflies returned full-force to barrage the walls of your stomach. The sudden nerves made you feel bit nauseous and at once you felt the familiar urge to turn tail and flee.

No, you bit back the flight aspect of your fight or flight response. No, you said you wouldn’t run, and you wouldn’t. You needed to claim back a bit of control in the new dynamic you’d found yourself in with Jimin and damn it if you didn’t do it now then you never would. So, you did what you usually did whenever you had to do something not so desirable to you at the time and turned your brain off.

“Find someone to help him with what?”

The attention of the two males was instantly on you, Seokjin instantly appearing a cross between amused and sly. You didn’t like that one bit, and quickly raked your eyes over the other male. A mistake—he was surprised at first but the way his features melted into a curious look and his eyes darkened into molten pools almost made your knees week, like you were experiencing your first crush all over again. God, damn it. This was harder than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but wonder if he recalled the events of the other night upon seeing you, like you did every time you saw him.

“Sparring,” Seokjin supplied a little too merrily, and it was almost like you could see the cogs turning in his head. “Kelkie have a lot of restless energy, so it is common practice and customary to have a sparring partner.”

“You two are sparring partners?” you queried, trying desperately to appear much less nervous than you were. Your voice didn’t tremble, so that was something, and at least you weren’t blushing. Yet.

Seokjin’s lips curled into a sly simper. “No, Jimin’s sparring partner is the King, actually. But, since His Majesty is still on leave and Jimin has had an awful lot of… pent up energy, lately, I have taken to being his partner in the meantime.”

Jimin shot the older male a glare at his words, and you couldn’t deny the stupid ripple of giddy hope that dared to bubble within you for a moment. You thought he’d say something to protest his words, anticipating banter, but were caught off guard when his gaze simply returned to you and you felt like you were suddenly in the spotlight once more. Your heart stuttered—shit, damn it. Stupid attractive alien. Your brain was still turned off so that you could remain riding a wave of pretend bravery, and you scrambled to make the most of it and recover.

“So, you need someone to spar with?” You looked to Jimin, interest and excitement leaking into your tone—and it wasn’t fake, in the least, despite your nerves. You almost kicked yourself for what you said next, though, a little too brave for your current state of hidden fluster. “I used to spar with my shipmates when we had long trips, it was always a lot of fun. I’ll spar with you.”

Very bold words from you since you knew how much stronger and faster kelkie were than you—you’d witnessed it one time when you tried to fix a piece of hair that was pulling your scalp from one of Joy’s hairstyles and she’d positively vaulted across the room at breakneck speed to smack your hands away.

Seokjin positively grinned, but Jimin’s face fell into an expression of protest. His dark brows drew together, lips tugging down at the corners.

“No,” he refused immediately, “You will get yourself hurt. I cannot spar with you.”

You sputtered, indignant, and felt a bit of your usual confidence return to you as you pushed from the door and walked forward a little bit. “What? Mister Jimin… are you afraid a weak little human is going to best you in combat? I suppose I understand, the shame for you would be unbearable…”

You’d poked the bear expecting him to continue resisting and refuting you, but to your complete and utter surprise the male’s expression shifted once more, his mouth snapping shut and jaw tensing as his eyes bore into you with a new sort of intensity. That look spelt trouble for you and boy if it didn’t send the most giddy, excited shiver down your spine. Were you perhaps a masochist? This might be the time Jimin finally snapped and killed you for being annoying but you couldn’t think of anything but how hot he looked and how good it would feel even if his hand did end up around your thr—

“That is an excellent idea!” Seokjin was quick to express his avid support, but you got the feeling from the shit-eating grin that never left his flushed face that he had an ulterior motive besides backing you up like a good friend. “There you go Jimin, nip that stress in the bud. I am off now, I have many duties to attend to. Don’t play too rough, children.”

With that he bounced, leaving you and a silent Jimin in his wake. You were still reeling from the abruptness of his departure when there was movement from the corner of your eye and you whipped to see Jimin walking further into the room. You could feel a shift in the air, a new sort of tension that tingled along the base of your spine and made your breath catch. Keep it cool, keep it cool— you needed to tip the scales back into balance.

“Weapons?”

You’d begun to walk further into the room to join Jimin, but froze in your steps at the sound of his voice. It was deeper, rougher than you’d anticipated—he’s back was still to you and though you couldn’t see his face you saw the tension in his shoulders and along firm lines of his back. The shirt was slim-fitting and clung to his form everywhere except the sides where, from about halfway down, the material sported a slit. You guessed it was so he didn’t get too stuffy and so didn’t pay it any mind.

You steeled yourself, summoning some of the confidence that had returned to you so fleetingly earlier, and moved closer, stretching as you did so. “None is fine.”

His jaw ticked as he sent you a curious glance over his shoulder before giving a short nod and turning to face you better. This was the first time you’d been in his presence for longer than three seconds since that night and you felt an absolute mess with each second more that ticked over. Fuck, it was fine, everything was fine. You just had to hold it together a little longer then your nerves would wear off and you’d be back to normal. Probably.

As he settled into a loose pose, readying himself for another ‘sparring’ session, his eyes wept slowly over your form. You squared your shoulders and kept the playful smile on your lips, doing your absolute best to ignore the frantic pattering of your heart against your ribcage. You relished the way his eyes darkened as you stretched your back and your shirt rode up a sliver, providing him the barest peek of your skin. You could tell as you slipped into a loose pose of your own that from the tension he still held in his form, he wasn’t going to be using his full strength on you at all.

You had no doubt he was going to go as easy on you as he could.

But then, if he wasn’t using all his strength and speed, how would he be releasing the pent up tension that these sessions were meant to relieve? He wouldn’t be, so there must have been another reason he was about to humour you and ‘spar’ with you. Your mind ticked it over for a bare second before it registered.

He was playing chicken with you.

Something had changed in him since your last encounter, after you finally seemed to push him over a line of sorts. He was no longer resisting, no longer flustering and growing embarrassed—he was poking and prodding back just as you had done to him from the beginning.

You nearly balked at the realisation, but schooled your features just in time. He wanted to tease, to play? Well, lucky for him playing and teasing was what you did best. A wave of excitement washed over you. Your nerves all but disappeared as you resolved yourself, intending to use this opportunity and treat him as you normally would. You wondered, which one of you would bow first?

He must have noticed the changed tone of your smile, as one dark eyebrow rose in question. He tilted his head, eyes boring into you with more intensity than expected. His marks shifted colours from plum to rose, to periwinkle. A sequence that you had no idea how to decode yet still made your stomach flutter instinctively.

“Are you ready, petal?” he asked, and the nickname nearly undid all the hard work you put into reclaiming your usual mojo.

“Of course, peach cheeks,” you fired back, smiling brightly. He tried to hide it but you saw the way his lips twitched and his marks flushed deep rose. Even so, he didn’t blush, and the observation made you both giddy and eager to try and pull the reaction out of him.

“You may make the first move,” he offered, keen eyes catching every twitch of your features and shift of your body. You’d learnt from Seokjin and Namjoon that the Kelkie were a race of elite warriors, and you could tell just from looking at Jimin and the way he regarded you that he knew how to read and predict moves in battle. You knew then, that you couldn’t turn this into a game of strategy, or he would best you before you even had a chance to have fun. He was stronger and faster than you, obviously, but you didn’t want to make this too easy for him.

You nodded, taking a moment to choose how to proceed before you threw caution to the wind and moved on instinct alone. He watched, waited, coiled and ready for whatever move you might give him first.

When you dipped then lurched forward, aiming a light hit to his face, he dodged with ease. He had a bit of an unreadable expression on his face before you moved, but now that you made the first swing and he was sinking into the sparring mindset once more, an excited glint began to make itself known in his eyes.

You were right in assuming he would hold back. He weaved out of the way, incredibly graceful, and twisted mid-movement to bring his knee up, aiming for your middle. He was fast, but you knew he could be faster—with an amused huff you slipped out of the way and took a few light steps back before darting forward once more to try and jab his ribs. Like that, the two of you began to fall into a pattern.

Something about sparring always set your blood alight, and you could tell the same was the case for the alien dodging and weaving your light-hearted swings. The thought excited you, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your throat as he swung and you spun out of the way just in time. You continued like that for the next few minutes, grinning uncontrollably at the sound of the huff he’d let out each time you dodged. So far, despite your occasional swings, you had been on the defensive. Even then, there was no heat or urgency behind his attacks. You wanted him to put a little more effort in.

His breath sped up the longer the two of you moved, his expression morphing. Slippery was how the guards had described you, and slippery was what you proved to be now. He was holding back almost all of his strength and speed, but he still should have been able to grasp you with ease. Yet each time he threw a hit or reached to grab you, you would dip and dodge, dancing out of the way. His stomach gave an excited flutter, the muscles of his back tingling. That was what this was—the way you were moving and interacting with him, reading his movements enough to flee but not to counter, with enough push and pull that it kept him on his toes…

It was like the two of you were dancing.

It was nothing like sparring with his own kind, yet he felt his heart stutter and kick into a higher gear in excitement nonetheless. You had a habit of making everything so exhilarating. The more you pulled back only to push lightly, prodding him and luring him to make a move for your gain, the more he felt himself slip into it. He was no longer moving with the intent to humour you or anything along those lines—he felt it, deep within his abdomen, the knot of longing forming once more. He wanted to chase, to catch you. And with each smooth dodge and light-footed prance out of reach you performed, he felt himself growing more and more riddled with the need to fulfil that instinctive desire.

It was as though you could feel the change in him, the longer the two of you tangled. You could sense a shift and, true to your nature, immediately went to exploit it.

“You’re so slow, peach cheeks!” you let out a breathless giggle as he lurched fluidly and tipped his body in a roundhouse kick of sorts. You ducked, darting forward and trying to land a hit on his gut as he righted himself. “Are you sure you beat Seokjin? You barely—”

The male didn’t even need to respond, as your smug tone was cut off the second his hand flew to grasp your fist before it could make contact with him. Your heart lurched into your throat, breath catching, as he adjusted his grip and tugged you forward, completely off balance. You crashed into his chest with your own, his other hand wrapping around your wrist like iron as he pulled them both behind your back with ease. You were arched into him with your heart racing, stomach flipping. He stared down at you with a dangerous curl to his lips.

“I thought I told you not to push so hard, petal,” his voice was so breathy and low it was absolutely sinful, a shudder rolling down your spine. You could barely tear your eyes away from his own, heat flushing over your skin. Weak as you may be for him, you refused to give in so easily.

You felt his breath brush your face before you shoved your rapidly-returning nerves away and leant up, lips brushing his ear and the cool metal that dangled from it. Your playful tone had his grip tightening “But I like the end result.”

You felt him stiffen in shock, posture turning rigid; apparently he hadn’t been expecting that. You used this to your advantage, breaking out of his hold and snapping your hand around one of his wrists instead. You darted back then danced around him, pulling his arm with you until you were completely behind him. While he was still dazed your free hand whipped to grab his other one, pulling both behind his back and pressing against it in a mockery of the position he’d just had you in. The sound of his breath catching in his throat made your stomach dip giddily.

Deciding to push further while you had him in this position, knowing he’d snap out of it and turn the tables in the next second or so, you pressed a teasing kiss to the nape of his neck, breasts pushed to his upper back. The move was dangerous as it kept you within his reach for longer, but at the shudder you felt move through him you deemed it worth it.

Unfortunately for you, right after that reaction he jerked into action and broke his wrists out of your hold. Letting out a soft squeak of alarm that bled into a short giggle, you leapt backwards and danced out of the way as he spun and lunged for you. The dance began anew.

Except this time, Jimin had changed his tune yet again.

His marks were stained rosy-purple, shifting to wine each time he neared you. His moves became less hits and kicks, and more dives, lunges and grabs—and each time he got closer to catching you in his hold you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt in anticipation and excitement, pulse racing. The way he moved was so incredibly graceful and fluid, like a predator in its natural element, and numerous times you were so mesmerised it almost got you caught. Still, you managed to evade him, and the longer you did so the more worked up he got. Faster and faster, molten gaze never losing track of your form. You wouldn’t be able to catch him like this, you realised; you’d have to let him get close first.

You meant to lure him in purposefully, but in one of your bids to dance out of his reach you ended up stumbling over your own feet—immediately, he pounced. Your arms flew to the side in an attempt to reclaim your balance but you didn’t get the chance to follow through. Jimin dove forward, powerful thighs keeping him stable and propelling him to you faster than you could register. His hand closed around your wrist, using your arm and off-kilter state to turn you before releasing it and looping his arm firmly around your middle instead. The breath whooshed out of your lungs as you were yanked backwards, back meeting his chest as he contained you in his iron grasp. A shot of arousal spiked down your spine as his other hand whipped up to sit over your throat, grip loose but still present, thumb pressing into the soft flesh and fingers tilting your jaw up and head back.

You were sure he could feel your harried breaths, hell could probably even hear the way your heart was currently racing. Your skin was damp with the slightest layer of sweat you’d worked up from your constant movement and activity. You could feel his own breath panting against your neck, his lips and nose brushing against the sensitive shell of your ear as he dipped his head.

“What did we say about saying things like that so carelessly, petal,” his voice was a sultry combination of a lilting purr and a teasing coo, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Your hands flew to grip the forearm currently pressing against your stomach, before moving to his bicep. You attempted to shift stance and haul him over your shoulder, like you’d managed to do to old sparring partners so many times before—yet Jimin didn’t so much as budge. The thrill of being faced with such unwavering strength made your stomach dip and butterflies swarm.

You didn’t have the words to respond, instead letting out a soft gasp as he rubbed his thumb along the sensitive column of your neck. Your mind raced, thoughts stumbling over one another as you scrambled for how to proceed and what to do. He was about to win, in more ways that one, but alarmingly you couldn’t find it within yourself to care all that much. There it was again, the yearning to just give yourself over and let him have you. It was getting to be a bit like an old friend, at this rate.

Your sudden desires gave you an idea, however. You rolled your body suddenly, rocking your hips back against him and grinding your ass back oh so ‘innocently’. Unprepared and unsuspecting, the action wrought a sharp, lilting gasp from the male’s throat. You felt the way his grip weakened for the barest second and were quick to take advantage of it.

Spinning in his hold, as you pivoted on your heel you used the other to catch his ankle. The result was his knee buckling, leg knocked out from under him, and as you pushed him backwards the two of you fell to the floor in a heap. You landed atop him, as you’d intended, with your thighs either side of his slim waist and your crotch pressed over his. You were out of breath as you braced yourself on his chest, one palm flat against the top of his sternum with your fingertips brushing his throat in a mock ‘dagger’. His tongue darted to wet full lips.

“Playing dirty,” he commented in between panting breaths, eyes boring into you as his voice brushed your eardrums, thick and low—shamefully, it had your thighs tensing with the urge to close. At your almost imperceptible shift, his nostrils twitched and his pupils blew up, hands suddenly on your hips with a firm grip. He didn’t move after that, but you felt the way his entire body tensed.

“I’m not above it,” you smiled, struggling to catch your own breath. You pushed your hands from his chest, leaning back, and in the process of shifting your weight unintentionally ground your core against him. His fingers instantly dug into your hips, leaving a delicious ache in their wake, as a soft groan that almost sounded like a growl slipped from his throat.

“You—”

“Jimin-ssi, I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but Seokjin called for you—there is an issue that requires your input.”

You jumped, startled beyond belief by the sound of a voice at the doorway to the room, and scrambled off of Jimin instantly. When you turned to see just who you expected, you offered a glare. Joy smiled back, unapologetic and clearly amused at the situation she’d walked in on.

Jimin sat up, a hand coming to pat his lower back—you watched the motion, wondering exactly why he did it but unable to suss a reason out. He turned to face you, eyes dark and swirling with something you couldn’t name but that made your heart skip a beat in anticipation nonetheless, before he rose to his feet and walked coolly to the door. You weren’t ashamed to say that you stared at his ass as he went.

“Understood, let him know that I will be there soon. I have… something to take care of first.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you wondered exactly what he had to take care of, but he was slipping through the doors with a hand pressed to his back and gone before you could think to ask. You might have been confused as to what he meant, but Joy seemed to be in the loop and very amused by it.

“I see you’re making progress in wooing him,” she observed, tone playful, and you rolled your eyes as you hopped to your feet. Now that you were no longer distracted by Jimin, you could feel how sweaty and sticky you were from the whole ordeal. Ugh, exercise. A wave of embarrassment coursed through you at the sudden thought—did he notice your gross state when you were on top of him? How humiliating.

“Yeah… Maybe,” you said, dusting off your bottoms. “I’ll gossip with you later though, first thing’s first I need a shower. Do all of you really spar that often to get your energy out? In this heat?”

Joy’s eyes lit up at this titbit of information, the long raven plait down her back swinging as she tilted her head. “Oh, so that is what you were doing? Interesting take on the practice, I will admit.”

You wanted to send her another half-hearted glare but found her words too funny to be able to pull it off. A snort escaped you instead, “Hardly. He went far too easy on me for it to be considered a real spar.”

The female snorted, her marks colouring a delighted blue-green in her amusement. “I am not surprised. Jimin is faster and stronger than most kelkie so I do not imagine he would use anything close to full strength when sparring with you. Interesting that he agreed, though.”

You hummed, unsure how to process her words just yet. “Huh. Well. I’m gonna go back to my rooms and get changed, I’ll find you again later. I have some…. Questions.”

Joy raised an eyebrow but you merely offered her a grin as you left. “See you! And don’t forget to tell Seokjin whatever Jimin wanted you to.”

She rolled her eyes, muttering a curse under her breath before she gave a wave in farewell. “Goodbye. Take your time, please.”

You couldn’t help you laugh as you ventured further down the hall, “I won’t!”

x x x x x x x

True to your word, as soon as you were done bathing and changing you zipped off down the halls in search of her for your promised interrogation session. You were expecting it to take much longer than it did for you to actually track her down.

When you found her, it was on a balcony with Namjoon, who she appeared to be playing a board game of sorts with, and Yoongi, who was to the back napping on large cushion in the sun. He protested whenever you called him a cat and then went and acted just like one, you couldn’t help but laugh.

When she caught sight of you, Joy seemed surprised. “Oh, you really did have some questions you wanted answered, did you?”

Namjoon looked at you curiously after he moved a piece on the board, taking advantage of Joy’s momentary distraction. You wondered what he was thinking before his lips adopted a sudden sly quirk and his teasing tone greeted your ears, “Got up to some fun this morning, did we?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the third chair between them at the table and flopping into it with all the attitude you could muster. “I whooped Jimin’s ass in hand-to-hand combat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Namjoon laughed and Joy snorted, the former clearly having been told what kind of scene Joy had walked in on earlier.

“By playing dirty?”

“My specialty.”

Another chuckle rumbled from his chest as he shook his head, turning back to the board. You allowed a brief moment of silence to settle over you as you watched the two of them make a move. When you couldn’t immediately figure out the point of the game, you gave up your observation.

“Anyway, about those questions I had,” you said suddenly, making the kelkie female to your right smile and shake her head. “I’ll ask them now, since you’re not busy.”

Another snort of amusement and she turned her head in your direction, dark eyes glimmering with mirth and marks glowing soft orange. “Of course, since I am not busy. Go ahead, I know it must be burning you up inside. Has it been unbearable?”

You nodded dramatically, ignoring Namjoon’s eyeroll. “Yes, incredibly so. I haven’t slept in days.”

You received another laugh for that and could barely keep your face straight as Joy shook her head, placing her elbow on the table and leaning her face into her palm. “Well, cheeky human, what is it you are curious about?”

You bit your lip, pondering what you wanted to ask first for a moment before deciding to cut to the chase. “Well, I want to know—why is it that every time I tease Jimin he runs away holding his back?”

It was an innocent enough question in your mind, but the reactions you received made you think that the answer was otherwise. Namjoon choked on his own spit, and Joy’s eyebrows shot up as she clamped her mouth shut and looked very much like she was trying not to laugh. A strangled sound from the side of the room told you that Yoongi had woken up and heard what you said.

Confused, you tilted your head. “What? What is it? Does he have back spasms or something? Wait, are your hearts in your lower back? Am I stressing him out so much he’s having heart attacks?”

To your complete and utter surprise, Namjoon’s face slowly began to turn bright red, and when you turned to peer at Yoongi you found his cheeks had coloured as well, the tips of his ears pink as he coughed and averted his gaze to the balcony. Joy was the only one who didn’t seem incredibly embarrassed at your question—on the contrary, she seemed to be having the time of her life.

“Oh, I love it when you humans ask things like this.” She was positively gleeful, grinning so wide that it actually concerned you a bit. “Your reactions are so funny.”

“What?” you pressed again, worried but also ten times more curious than before. “What is it? Come on, tell me.”

Joy, still grinning, sent Namjoon a pointed look and the male coughed, unable to meet your eyes as he cleared his throat and started, “Uh, well, y/n, you know that there are certain physiological differences between us and kelkies…”

You nodded, slightly impatient but clamping your mouth shut nonetheless in the hopes he would hurry up and continue.

“And you know, uh…” Namjoon looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, face bright pink. “Y-you know that uh, s-sometimes the differences are the ones we can’t see—”

“Spit it out, Joonie!” you couldn’t hold it in, wriggling forward on the seat and placing your palms onto the table. “Please, I’m dying to know, you can’t keep me in suspense like this—”

“y/n, you’ve seen porn, right? From Earth.”

You turned to face Yoongi at the sound of his voice, nodding as you did so. “Yeah, I have. Why? You need some? I had a USB of it with me on the ship, I can go look for it if you want—"

Namjoon choked, coughing and smacking his chest. You ignored him for the moment as Yoongi’s cheeks seemed to darken before he swallowed and continued. “So. Have you seen uh… you’ve seen Japanese animated porn?”

You stared at him plainly for a second, wondering if he was serious. “Uh… yes? Of course I have, I was a teenager too—”

Namjoon let his head slam onto the table with a loud groan, Joy letting out a delighted peal of laughter. Yoongi steeled himself and pushed on. “S-so you know, in the… in Japanese animated porn…”

“Say it for what it is, Yoongi,” you said. “Hentai.”

For a second the urge to kill you flickered in his gaze but he seemed to wrangle it quicker than usual. He let out a great, anguished sigh. “Why do I even bother—have you seen tentacle porn or not?”

“Of course I have, what does that have to do with—” you stopped short, his words ticking over in your head for a few seconds before your jaw dropped and you spun to face Namjoon and Joy with wide eyes and warmed cheeks. “No—oh my god, really?! Holy—”

Namjoon made a strangled, mortified noise and Joy burst into laughter once more as you stumbled over your words, a mess of thoughts zipping around in your poor monkey brain. As utterly shocked as you were in this moment, in a sense you also weren’t that surprised and, shamefully, the knowledge sent something akin to a shiver of excitement down your spine. Wow, you were really a bit depraved, huh? Then again, if you paid attention to the raunchy shit you watched in your teen years (and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably would still watch now if you had it) it would have been a bit telling.

“Oh my god,” you slammed your hands onto the table, on the absolute edge of your seat. “You guys have tentacles? For real? Where? How many? Do both males and females have them, or only—”

“Slow down, y/n,” Joy snorted, withdrawing from the table for a moment to recline comfortably in her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, seeming incredibly tickled. “One question at a time, or I will revoke your question-asking rights.”

You let out a horrified gasp, before instantly snapping your mouth shut and letting her answer the questions you fired at her so rapidly.

“To answer your first question, yes, kelkie do have extra appendages utilised in intercourse. We call them #%&$*@ but you humans describe them as tentacles and that seems to be easier for you to say, so we go with that.” At the sound of a foreign kelkoe word your mind blanked for a moment, but the rest of her words quickly sank in. Namjoon and Yoongi were still dying of embarrassment in the background, and you were a little embarrassed yourself but was by far overpowered by your burning curiosity.

“They’re used specifically for sex?!” you couldn’t help yourself, unable to contain your questions. Obviously, when one hears tentacles they think of certain scenarios, but you didn’t want to just assume. Learning that that was what they were literally for though… god, if it wasn’t enough to make you sweat like a sinner in church.

You could have sworn you heard Yoongi mutter, “I should have known she’d be horny for tentacles, who am I kidding,” under his breath in the background, but ignored it in favour of watching Joy’s features as she compiled a response for you.

“Yes, they are reproductive organs,” she said, a sly smile curling her shapely lips as she easily pinpointed the direction your thoughts were going. “Additional ones to those that some have found we have in common.”

You blushed, but still said what you thought as soon as it entered your mind. “Oh—I—two sets?”

Joy nodded, still very much amused. “Yes—and that is to confirm what you asked earlier, as well. Both males and females have them, but females have less.”

You let that sink in for a moment, mulling over the sudden overload of information, before your mind caught on to a certain detail that it had glossed over earlier and you balked. “Wait—you said you ‘some found’? Who…?”

At your words, both males in the room seemed to shrink in their seats, eyes everywhere but meeting your own. Joy snickered and they flushed bright red. A cackled built in your chest as realisation began to sink in.

“We have had a few celebrations and festivals in the time since the Queen’s crew arrived—you humans like to enjoy yourselves, don’t you?” She might have been teasing you as well as the other two males in the room, but you weren’t ashamed enough of your libido for it to have any effect. At this point, you’d been openly horny for Jimin for a while.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, eyes flicking between the two sheepish-looking males. The insinuation of what the extra appendages meant for their extracurricular romping in the sheets… you blushed.

Eager to return to your earlier line of questioning, lest you lose the opportunity altogether and they changed the subject, you forced yourself to turn back to a grinning Joy.

“So uh, where are they?” you inquired, somewhat gingerly. It would seem you had some tact left, after all. Joy snorted at your manner and tapped her fingers on the table, marks a cool, light blue.

“They are in two lines along the lower portion of the spine,” she informed you, tilting her head and watching your expression keenly. She smiled the second she saw you make the connection between what she said and what you saw. At your questioning look, she continued, “Yes, that has to do with why Jimin, ah… holds his lower back when you tease him. For the most part, they are hidden. They aren’t appendages that we have entire control over, and in many senses it is as though they have a mind of their own, following our base instincts and urges. When a kelkie experiences a certain amount of stimulation or arousal, they are prone to appearing.”

She gave you a moment for the information to sink in before you made the connection she was waiting for. “Oh, oh—wait so—so every time he slaps a hand to his back and runs away its just because I made him pop a tentacle boner?”

The female raised a brow at your choice of words but seemed to understand the slang enough to snort and nod her head. You heard Namjoon and Yoongi choke on a laugh, Namjoon slamming his head onto the table once more and disrupting the board game that had long since been forgotten.

“Yes,” Joy confirmed simply, lips twitching. “I do not think I ever saw him give such a reaction before you came along, though. I have to give you credit.”

It probably wasn’t something you should be preening with pride to hear, but you were anyway. “Ah, finally. My efforts are being rewarded.”

Yoongi shook his head, squinting at you. “How are you so… unapologetically thirsty?”

“We’re talking about Jimin, how can I not be?” you answered simply, before straightening in your seat and whipping a finger to point in his direction. “And let’s not be the pot calling the kettle black, mister! Word on the street is you’re just as horny as me!”

Yoongi balked, face paling before it began to cycle through about seven different shades of red, and Namjoon let out a strangled chortle.

“Don’t you have more questions for Joy?” Yoongi tried weakly to deflect the attention and change the subject, but to no avail.

“Well, yes, but I also have questions for you—and don’t think you’re off the hook either, Namjoon, I see you looking mortified over there.”

The two males let out long, arduous groans, and Joy erupted in delighted peals of laughter. What was going to be an informative afternoon for you was clearly going to be a very long one for them. You wriggled in your seat, getting comfortable, and dove in headfirst.

You were going to get as much information on this new discovery as you could.

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