#like???? but i keep forgetting to make him sit down and log into the website with the list i cant access because “okay later” hasnt

[spilling-blood]

Wrist pain from typing for leisure all weekend and now I will go type and wiggle a mouse for 8 hours straight for pay.

[yoongsisbae]

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 3

You joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down…

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader / Namjoon x Taehyung x reader this chapter

Oh, I was dying writing this chapter so I think I wrote it well? Heh there’s a lot going on, so you have been warned lol. Also hope to post HOAL soon, that is if BTS would stop attacking me with all these sexy bad boy photoshoots that scream C!HOC mens. Sorry, but can you really blame me? :(

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, reader manipulation, scary yandere behavior, voyeur, masturbation, lots of drinking and drunkenness, dubcon, dry humping on the dance floor lol, this is pretty filthy, all of them are horny, dom!Namjoon, dom!Taehyung, Tae’s a lot, shibari, bondage, blindfold, rough sex, edging, multiple orgasms, threesome, degradation, Yoongi continues to be a meanie, slut shaming, extreme regret for reader that could be triggering I think, tell me if I need to tag anything else

PSA: to reiterate, this is a yandere fic, this is all fantasy, this is scary, no one actually wants this to happen to them irl. But I’m also here for you if you wanna enjoy some hot fictional villains, alright? I got u boo.

Word Count: 8.7k

Playlist: Rotimi - Push Button Start // Shenseea - Blessed (with Tyga) // ROSALIA - Con Altura // Sean Paul - Go Down Deh // Afro B - Drogba // Aya Nakamura - Pookie // DJ Nelson - PAPI //J Balvin - Amarillo // SUPA NYTRO - Tik Pon Cock // Paris Lain - Way (links here)

---

“P-please...”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

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

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

---

Your legs are still shaking as you make your way downstairs. You tried not to think about the slick between your thighs as you descended each step, or think about RM’s warm breath against your ear. No, you won’t think about his deep voice that makes you shiver still, or the way he massaged your neck like he had done it a hundred times before...out of all the weird fucked up things you thought could happen tonight, never ever did you expect to meet RM again.

He reminded you of all the reasons why you allowed yourself to fall deeper into that kind of exhibitionistic lifestyle as a carded member. The money was good, but the sweetest rewards were corporal. The saccharine praise your admirers would give you became addicting. You even became close to some of them, for an extra fee.

What was it your old school counselor would say? It wasn’t about the destination, the real reward was the friends you made along the way. Except your new friends told you all their dirty filthy desires and watched as you would get off for them. You learned quickly your sexual appetite was ravenous, the more you indulged the worse it got. You had been starved for attention for so long, quarantine only amplifying your loneliness, and the dark site fed you well.

RM also reminded you of all the reasons why you left. You still don’t understand how you fell so deep so fast, let digital become physical when you promised yourself you wouldn’t. The House Rules made the descent into filth almost inevitable. During your only experience inside The House, you had been shown truths you didn’t want to face, depravities you enjoyed. After that night you went home, showered away your sins until your skin burned, logged out and never logged back in. It was the best way to end your addiction to House of Cards, end it cold turkey.

You were not prepared for this again. You were not prepared for how much you craved it.

---

The party became wild. Your body now hyper aware of everything after RM worked you up so skillfully and denied you any release. The music reverberates throughout the halls, the beats of the bass clashes with the pounding in your head. The smell of drugs and sex assaults your nostrils, and every time a dancer bumps into you, your body remembers RM’s touch.

So many bodies around you and you feel all alone like an outcast. Where’s Yoongi? You're beginning to miss that annoying smirk and the overconfident man attached to it, you could use some of that confidence right now.

As the room spins around you, your eyes find the place where you had been standing. You’re disappointed it’s empty. Not that you knew what RM looked like, but you feel like you’d recognize him as soon as you saw him, a man like that would look like walking sin.

You shift your upward gaze to the gold ropes hanging from the ceiling, eyes traveling down until you meet the glistening body of a woman. She’s so beautiful it makes you ache, arms secured behind her back, her leg extended and tied high, her other leg bent and pressed to her side and her spread open for everyone to see.

You play with the pendant around your neck, and you can’t help but imagine yourself in her position, tied up for everyone to see, for Yoongi to watch. You’re soaking. You need a drink.

---

“Hey,” you bump into Yoongi’s side as you sit down, grabbing his whisky glass and downing what’s left. The burning liquid makes you grimace, face scrunching up in distaste.

He pulls the glass from your grip, looking you up and down, sharp eyes narrowing, “Where have you been?”

“I got lost.” His arm snakes around your waist. His touch feels good, you don’t want to admit how much your body yearns for more, wants to be wanted. “Where are Jimin and Hobi?”

“Dancing,” Taehyung interjects as he gets closer to you, offering you another glass of champagne. You take it gratefully, sipping on the sweet liquid, anything to numb the ache you feel inside.

His eyes sparkle as he scrutinizes you up close, examining your dark makeup and tight dress. He wants to smear the red lipstick on your lips with his fingers, and his mouth, and his cock. He wants to stain your pretty black dress with his cum, let the milky white fluid drip all over the black silky fabric, between your breasts-

“I’m sorry, what is your name again?”

You ask him so innocently, Taehyung can forgive you for forgetting. Jungkook on the other hand, silently simmers with rage, especially when Yoongi smirks at him, sitting pressed to your side like a lover would.

“Taehyung,” The man gives you a big wide smile, “that's Seokjin,” he points to the tall man who keeps his distance, “and this,” he hits Jungkook’s chest and pulls him into a headlock, “is Jungkook!” Taehyung leans in to whisper in your ear, “a big fan.”

Your eyes go wide, did you hear him correctly? You watch the two play fight. Jungkook punches his older friend in the side a bit harder than he was expecting, earning a yell from Taehyung. They act cute, you think, Jungkook looks too innocent, you can’t believe he had watched you in his free time.

Hoseok and Jimin find their way back into the group. “Y/n, you’re back! Yoongi was about to send out a search party for you.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, and you lean your chin onto your palm, raising your eyebrows at him, trying to hide your smile at the way they tease him.

“Is that so?” His fingers pinch the flesh of your back at your retort, making you squirm at the ticklish sensation. When you try to pull his hand away, he takes the opportunity to intertwine your fingers together, pulling you firmly to his side.

You look down at Yoongi’s hand in yours, resting on your hip. Without the alcohol cursing through your veins you might have pushed him off you, but instead you sit buzzed and docile. He acts so possessive of you in front of the others, it makes your heart race. “Well I’m here now.”

“I’ll cheers to that!” Jimin fills everyone’s drinks. 7 glasses clang together and they cheer, making you giggle as you down the glass. One cheers becomes two, and then another bottle comes, until you're welcoming back that hazed state of mind that feels so freeing. The background fades away and the booming music around you becomes muffled as you try your best to focus on the conversation, until you realize you’re in Yoongi’s lap, his veiny hands dancing around your exposed thigh. He says something you can’t hear, so you tilt your head back, resting on his shoulder, whining out a slurred, “what!”

“You’re having too much fun.” He suppresses the urge to move his fingers higher, instead tracing lazy circles into your leg, making you twist in his lap, lips parting as you enjoy the sensation. Your body feels heavy from inebriation, so you lean your weight onto him more, focused on his cold rings against your warm skin.

You move your head closer to his. “You wanted to bring me here, right?” you laugh, and you swivel your body against him, grinding into his lap to the tempo of the music. Yoongi notices the others' heated stares, so he shifts his leg, pressing his hands into your thighs, opening your legs wider, and you’re too drunk to notice or care.

Yoongi tries to hold onto his thinning composure, how many times had he thought of you like this? So receptive and needy in his arms. He enjoys your torturous hip rolls, reveling in the fact that the sight tortures his audience even more. But you’re not really paying attention to that, your body only responding to how the music beat hits so well, his growing erection encouraging you to keep rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.

“Y/n, let's go dance!” Hoseok calls out to you over the music. His request pulls you from your trance. You sit up, shaking the clouded haze from your mind.

“Dance? Okay!” You let Hoseok pull you to your feet, stumbling slightly into him.

You turn to Yoongi, “You don’t mind, do you?” you ask, ready to start a fight. He glares at you. You sway on your feet and glare back. Such a brat, he thinks, you’ll just have to be taught a lesson later. Yoongi picks up his whisky and waves you off.

---

The dance floor is hot and alive with writhing bodies. You let Hoseok roll his hips into you from behind, your own hips following his movements. His toned arms lock around you, holding you, as he pulls your body lower and lower, until you’re crouched to the floor, your bodies connecting again and again as he rubs his hardening bulge into your ass to the beat.

It feels so so good, his warm body on you, seeking pleasure from one another. Every roll and buck helps to release the frustration RM did to you.

Hoseok’s hands pull your dress higher so you can spread your knees wider. He holds the bunched up fabric to your core to keep what’s left of your modesty, and your arms reach behind you to hook around his neck to keep yourself steady.

Hoseok is such a good dancer, masterfully guiding your loose body. You pull and push each other along to the sensual music, shifting your weight against your combined center of gravity as your bodies heat up in each other’s embrace.

Hoseok moves the hair from your neck away, blowing air on the back of your neck. His hand cups your breast, fondling you out in the open, “You like when I do this to you, don’t you Dahlia?” You’re too drunk to catch the pseudonym he uses.

You close your eyes focusing on his hands groping your body, your fingers fisting into his hair, pulling him closer, and his tongue licks off the sweat on your neck. Hoseok knows all the ways to leave you delirious with lust, hands running up and down your body, massaging your curves and leading your hips to meet his. If he’s making you feel this good with your clothes on, you can only imagine how amazing he’d be in bed, hips rolling against you as he fills you up with his stiff cock...

You’re so focused on Hoseok you don’t realize another body moving closer to you, another pair of hands on you, until Taehyung presses himself into your front.

The music fills your head, the dirty words being sung encouraging you to release all your inhibitions. Your arms reach out to run up Taehyung’s abdomen, up and up his chest, loving the feel of his muscles under your fingers.

He places your arms around his neck as he moves forward, his leg slotting between yours. With Hoseok grinding against your back and Taehyung rubbing against your front, you feel like you’re going to combust. The crowd around you is a blur, but everything about them feels so solid, so hard against you. Caged between them, you submit to every caress, every touch from both men.

Taehyung holds the back of your head to keep your eyes on him as Hoseok leaves open mouth kisses on your shoulder. Taehyung’s thumb caresses your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.” his mouth slides across your jaw, under your ear, licking and nibbling at your lobe, giving you goosebumps, “You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

You place your finger over his mouth pushing him away, too embarrassed to hear more, but your hips can’t help but push into him at the praise.

“Come with me,” he pulls you away from Hoseok, his friend winking at him behind your back, and you foolishly follow him through the sea of dancing bodies.

---

Pulling you into a dark corner, he cages you in before you can protest. Lips finding your neck, hooking a finger under your choker, pulling up, forcing your neck to tilt so he can reach more skin. Even if you want more, you still have some sense left in you to know letting Yoongi’s friend do this to you in front of everyone is a bad idea. “W-wait. Yoongi will-”

Taehyung’s arm slams into the wall. The noise startles you into silence. It’s Yoongi, always Yoongi. What about him? He steadies his breathing after noticing your wide eyes.

“Y/n, do you know who I am?” He leans onto the wall hovering over you, dark eyes peering down at you as he waits for your answer.

You feel your stomach drop under his intimidating gaze. “Should I know who you are?”

He answers your question with another question, “Do you know who Yoongi is? Do you really have no idea?” His interrogation takes you aback.

“He’s one of my...v-viewers...”

“Yes, who? You never thought to ask, baby?” Taehyung looks at you so accusingly, you feel ashamed that you can’t answer him.

“Who is he?” You ask.

He smiles, a twisted grin that makes you feel uneasy. Eyes lighting up darkly once his suspicions were proved right.

“How about this, since we both have so many unanswered questions, why don’t we play a game? I’ll answer one of your questions and then you answer one of mine. I’ll even let you go first.” His playful demeanor is back, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“Who are you?”

Taehyung smiles wide. You asked the right question. “I go by V.”

What? “You’re V?”

---

You log into the House of Cards website, open your account to a litany of unread messages. Your eyes skim through them, and one catches your eye. It’s V, the second highest donator from the other night’s stream.

V: you looked so beautiful the other night. I hope to see another broadcast soon...for next time?

V sent you an eighty dollar donation and a link to a lingerie set: pink lace, a sheer see-through pattern on the cups with a matching lace thong and garter belt.

You’ve bought lingerie for men before, for then boyfriends on your anniversaries or Valentine’s day dates, but you’ve never had a man buy you lingerie before. With shipping you’ll still have money left over, so you decide to add some more things in your basket to surprise him for being such a generous donor. It’s not because you had enjoyed his compliments the most during your stream, no. You found a cute pair of thigh high socks and some stick on rhinestones, coming up with a plan to get V’s attention. You squeal once the order goes through, ‘time to arts and craft in this bitch.’

You open his message again, fingers hovering over the keyboard, what should you say? Should you make it sound sexy or cute? ‘C’mon y/n, just flirt.’

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. Just for you sexy <3

Ew ew. No. Before pressing enter you delete the last sentence.

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. See you soon ;)

You go through all your messages, in a much better mood than you’ve been in a long time. You bop your head to the music that flows through your speakers in your living room while coming up with different replies to each new viewer.

It feels good to be stress free, you think, while sipping on cup ramen because you’re still waiting until your earnings clear your account to buy groceries. You’ve managed to answer every message when a new notification dings. V attached a picture.

V: I can’t wait.

Holy... A picture of a shirtless man from the neck down pops up. He’s not overly muscular, but he’s lean and toned, with defined pecs and v-line. Mmm. ‘V’ indeed. His jeans are unbuttoned. His legs spread wide, as if he were inviting you to sit on his lap.

You’re being catfished, you surmise. This man has to be using someone else’s pictures. Or he has a face only a mother could love. Either way, you’ll play with this fantasy. it’s not like you’ll actually ever meet in real life.

So you decide to play along, it’s not like you had work to go to, or anything to do really. Locked up in your tiny home alone and slowly going stir crazy would lead to some unfortunate decisions for you. One of the worst, allowing V to get so close to you.

Abandoning your snacks, you grab your laptop and run to the bedroom, jumping on your bed. Your laptop opens to another risque photo, his jeans zipped even lower. Hand grabbing a very defined bulge resting inside his pants leg. Well fuck.

Dahlia: is that really you?

V: yes baby

V: I wish you were here with me right now. I would make you feel so good, just like you deserve.

V: How about you, am I turning you on?

You clench your legs together instinctively.

Dahlia: you are.

V: are you touching yourself?

Should you lie? You could. But the pictures and his words are doing something to you, you feel jitters and a quick pace and a throbbing core. Suddenly you have an idea.

Dahlia: why don’t you see for yourself?

You create a private room, aim your camera down, mirroring the same angle in V’s picture and send the link to him. You pull the front of your sundress down to show more cleavage and the hem up to show more leg, and you wait.

There’s a notification: ‘1 new viewer.’

V: you look so pretty, you look like a doll

V: I wish I was there.

“Yeah? What would you do to me?”

V: I would spread your legs

You spread your legs at his words. Your stream plays in Taehyung's bedroom, he watches intently, and when your panties come into view he pulls his jeans down to his thighs freeing his hard erection, slowly stroking himself to the sight of your body.

V: fuck, so good baby. being so good for me.

V: I would take off your panties. slowly

You follow his commands and slowly remove your underwear. You like being told what to do, you imagine he’s on the bed with you, telling you everything, guiding your pleasure.

V: touch yourself for me

V: you’re wet already? how cute

V: that’s a good girl, just like that

V: imagine it’s me. my fingers stuffed inside of you, giving you everything you want

V: you’re mine and mine only

V: you’re going to be mine to kiss and fuck. I’ll take care of you baby doll, make you cum all over my fingers. You want that too?

V: you're so pretty baby, you like putting on a filthy show for me? desperate little girl

V: open your legs wider

V: doing so well for me, stay just like that. you’re driving me crazy

V: cum for me

You pulse, moaning out loud, reaching your high. When your lust filled haze clears you don’t feel dirty like before, you feel good. Even better when V sends you another eighty dollar donation.

Taehyung played sweet and affectionate very well. When talking to other House members you’d try your best to keep things as vague as possible, but sometimes you’d let certain things slip with V, and he always listened so well. Shit, he treated you better than your ex. He’d send you sweet messages, gifts, and the hottest body shots. He would do that often, it made you needy for more affection. He was a part of a small group of viewers that you’d offer special private streams to. Little did you know your carefree playdates were Taehyung’s obsessions.

---

Taehyung feels a special kind of gratification at the way you gawk at him, stunned into silence. “Now my turn,” Taehyung’s expression goes from playful to serious in an instant, “Why are you here with Yoongi?”

You swallow, this was V all along. You teetered between happiness and unease, you remembered all the sweet memories you had with him, but this man was still a stranger to you. He keeps staring at you, is this how he looked watching you through the computer screen? Fuck, your imagination could not have dreamed up a sexier man. Oh right, he is waiting for your answer.

You explain to him what happened, Yoongi recognizing you at your job, the agreement you made with him afterwards. Taehyung moves from hovering over you to standing by your side. He listens intently as his eyes scan the crowd. You watch the dancers as you sober up, observing the debauchery you had just been a part of. Taehyung hums as you finish your story.

“Who is-” Taehyung doesn’t let you finish, his eyes staring at the second floor’s balcony. “You looked like you enjoyed yourself. You looked so pretty up there, with my friend’s fingers inside you. You were being such a cute little slut.” His eyes roll back inside his head and he opens his mouth sighing.

He saw you. Did the others- “Did Yoongi see?!” you pull on his arm to get him to focus on you.

“No, he didn’t, just me. My turn!”

You felt tricked, using your question up already.

He turns to face you, leaning his side against the wall. You can't help but notice how he stares at you like he’s undressing you with his eyes, gaze traveling down your body and pausing at every place your skin shows, your cleavage and your thighs. “He really worked you up, you looked so guilty when you came back,” Taehyung’s teasing tone back again, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Yoongi suspected something.”

Your eyes go wide with worry. “I’m willing to keep that secret for you if...” he bites his lip and leans in whispering, “I bet you’re still wet too. Can I have a taste?”

“R-right now?”

“Yes. That’s my turn again! And I’m waiting for my answer.” He gets closer to you, pressing up against you again, his hands brushing against your thigh. You look around, how far away are you from the crowd? How far away are you from Yoongi?

His lips brush against your temple as he leans his jaw against your forehead. “No one will see. Put your hands back on my shoulder, c’mon baby, be good for me.” His body blocks you from everyone’s view.

His head in your hair, taking a long inhale, breathing in your scent, Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your shaky arms obey him, laying loosely on top of his broad shoulders. You lay your head on his chest, even if his words come out smooth, his heart is racing as he moves quickly between your bodies, dipping his long fingers inside you. You try to bite back a moan, but it feels too good.

Taehyung feels like he’s going to burst. You’re so wet, dripping all over his hand. He tries to fight his urges, there’s so many things he wants to do to you. Your soft whimpers sound so beautiful, so much better in person. You’re his to play with, all his.

He groans, pushing you hard against the wall. He looks like he’s going to devour you, your body tenses and you clench around his fingers. It only encourages him on. You grip his shoulders as he drives his hand upward, fingers pushing into you deeply as you fight against gravity, forced to stand on your tiptoes, struggling against him as his mouth attacks your neck, biting down hard. It’s too rough, too fast. “Tae-V-stop!”

His entire body stills against you, except for his fingers, teasing you still as they steadily press around inside your walls. You try to come to your senses, but everything about him unravels you.

He whispers against your forehead. “Last round, baby doll.” His voice raspy and breathing heavy as he holds himself back from tearing the clothes off your body. “One more question for each of us. I know where RM is, do you want to know?”

'RM,' who told you to find him, and V, who knows where. You gasp and nod your head, waiting but Taehyung smiles down at you in silence, fingers sliding out of you, making you whimper and grip the wall for support when he finally gives you space. He stays quiet as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking the wetness off his palm.

Your legs feel like jello, your body buzzes with each shameless lick as you watch him. You swallow the saliva accumulating in your mouth, pushing the lump in your throat down. You know what he wants. You played right into his trap, and the worst part is you want it too.

“Where is he?”

---

“If you think you’re going to keep her all to yourself you’re in for a rude awakening!” Jungkook grits out.

Yoongi sits quietly with his arms folded as Jungkook starts hurling accusations at him. Jin and Hoseok try to calm the youngest down, but it’s no use.

He grabs Yoongi’s collar, the action making Yoongi finally snap, and without warning Yoongi punches him squarely in the face. Yoongi had taken advantage of his friends holding Jungkook back and distracting him, satisfied when the young man recoils, stumbling back.

Before he can really lose it, Hoseok and Jimin drag Jungkook away, as the youngest screams all the ways he’s going to make Yoongi pay, not even aware of the blood leaking from his nose. Jin pulls Yoongi away in the opposite direction, “We need to talk.”

Jin walks Yoongi outside so they can both get some fresh air and clear their heads.

“He needs to learn not to disrespect his elders,” Yoongi mutters, wiping the blood off his knuckles.

“You know how he gets,” Jin counters, “Don’t act like you didn’t want that exact reaction from him. You were egging him on all night with y/n.”

Yoongi scoffs. He can’t stand how Jungkook acts like you belong with him. Jungkook is crazy. He’s too hot-headed and oversensitive, the complete opposite of Yoongi. The youngest suffers from inexperience and naivety. All that bark, and he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. No, Jungkook doesn’t deserve you, Yoongi thinks, he could never take care of you like Yoongi could.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish? You brought y/n back and we’re all happy for that, but if Jungkook is right, then I’m going to have to agree with him, brother.” Jin squeezes his friend’s shoulder and Yoongi shakes him off.

“I wasn’t going to keep her locked away.” Yoongi says dismissively. Not that he didn't think once or twice about it.

“How gracious of you.”

“Listen, I found her. She chose me before and she’ll choose me again. The last time you were with her, what happened, Brother? Hobi and Jimin, Jungkook and even you can fight over her all you want. In the end, she will come back to me.”

Jin smiles, he will let Yoongi think that. “And where is your y/n now?”

“I’ll go find her,” Yoongi goes to leave, itching to get you by his side again.

Jin’s hand on his chest stops him. Jin can’t help but smile at his poor friend’s situation, he had been tricked by the two youngest, a plan they orchestrated themselves and everyone else went along with. But Jin couldn’t keep his friend in the dark any longer, especially when revealing the truth would make the aftermath that much more entertaining for Jin.

“I have to tell you something.”

---

You stand in front of the door Taehyung had led you to, your nerves on high alert. Taehyung stands behind you, humming to himself. His arm reaches over your shoulder to rapt three knocks on the door.

As the door knob turns, Taehyung exclaims behind you, “Oh! I forgot.” His long fingers cover your eyes, as he pulls your head back, your body stumbling and crashing against him.

“Taehyung!”

“Shh. Calm down, it’s more fun this way,” he whispers in your ear as you hear the door creak open.

“What do we have here?”

“I brought her for you,” Taehyung purrs. You can feel his chest puff up behind you, he’s ecstatic, you played his game so perfectly, he was so proud of you.

“Good boy.”

You feel fingers wrap around yours as Namjoon brings your hands to his lips, caressing your knuckles. “And what about you? Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

---

Jimin tends to Jungkook’s bleeding nose as Hoseok pours himself a drink. “Thanks for taking one for the team, Kookie.”

Jungkook keeps his head tilted back to stop the blood, glancing over to Hoseok, lips curving in a smile, he’s happy that he accomplished his part of the plan successfully, “I’m going to kill that bastard.”

Jimin flicks him in the forehead. “No you’re not, unless you want y/n to never forgive you.”

“She won’t,” he pouts, “she acts like she hates him. I’ll be doing her a favor.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

---

The room is quiet, too quiet compared to the raucous party outside. So when Taehyung drags a chair from the corner of the room, the wood scraping against the floor sounds all the more foreboding. Goosebumps bloom on your body as if Taehyung dragged his fingernails along your skin instead.

You sit kneeling on the floor waiting, knees tucked underneath you. RM sits on the bed behind you, legs outstretched and you between them. You stare down at his shoes, shiny black loafers, and glance at his pants legs on either side of you. It's the first time you’ve ever seen a part of him. You want to look up so badly, the idea sits heavy on you, tensing every muscle in your body as you fight your curiosity. The only thing you want more is to find out what will happen if you obey them.

Taehyung pulls the chair right in front of you, facing the bed, you and RM. Another pair of shoes brush against your knees as Taehyung takes a seat.

RM’s fingers rest atop your head and keep your head tilted down while he waits for his friend to situate himself. Until eventually RM moves behind you, fingers fisting your hair and pulling you to your feet. “Go sit on his lap.”

Taehyung sits looking at you like he's just been given first place prize, smirking pridefully as you walk towards him on shaky legs. His shirt is already unbuttoned, tan skin and taunt muscles in full view. That's V, all right. Your insides ache for him, his seduction luring you in like a firefly to light.

Your dress stretches around your thighs as you straddle him, his hands grabbing at your ass and pulling your body into his.

You hear RM’s low voice growl behind you, “Kiss him.”

For a moment you think about the intense quiet man who brought you to this island, his piercing eyes flashing through your mind until Taehyung’s lips crash into yours and you can only think about how sweet the man devouring you tastes, and you kiss him back, exploring his mouth with your tongue.

His hands grope your body, pull your face closer, force away the fabric of your clothes. His touch is everywhere, keeping you distracted only on him as RM sets things up behind you.

RM pulls off his tie as Taehyung’s hands move to either side of your face, and he pulls you away from him, leaving one last peck on your lips, “You’re doing so well, baby doll. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

“V...Taehyung, I-I’ve wanted this too.”

“Will you do what I say?” You feel RM’s hands unzip the back of your dress, the fabric lowers and exposes your chest. Taehyung’s grip on your face tightens as you’re momentarily distracted, bringing your attention back to him.

“Yes.”

“I want you to fuck RM while I watch.”

He what who?

Taehyung brings his hips up causing you to lose your balance when he senses your hesitation, his hard length rubs against your aching core, “Don’t you want to? You wanted so badly for me to take you to him, didn’t you? All you have to do is say yes.”

His thumb traces your jaw as RM lowers his black tie across your eyes. Your heartbeat races, your thighs clench around Taehyung’s legs making him moan and buck into your heat. You shudder and RM secures his tie behind your head with a tight knot.

“Tae...” your fingers tighten into the loose fabric of his shirt at your sudden loss in vision.

Taehyung clasps his hands around yours, holding your wrists together as RM presses himself against your back, and you feel ropes being wrapped around your wrists. “You’re so pretty like this, remember last time?”

You do remember. Fuck, how did you end up like this again? This is all Yoongi’s fault.

RM’s hand wraps around your neck and his deep voice speaks in your ear, “Answer him, baby girl.”

“I-I remember.” You want to cry, you want to cum, you want them to stop this torture.

“Let us make you feel good again,” Taehyung’s voice lowers even deeper than RM’s.

“I...okay.”

“You’ll let RM use you?” You nod your head, grateful you can’t see them. You let yourself hide behind the makeshift blindfold.

“Use your words, I want to hear you say it,” RM demands.

“I want you to use me,” you sit and wait, embarrassed the words left your mouth so easily. The lack of response makes your insides churn, you can’t see the way they smile at each other. If Yoongi wants to make you only his, they are just going to have to destroy you for any other man.

RM’s grip around your neck tightens, arm wrapping around your body as he lifts you off your feet. You land on the soft covers of the bed, you have no time to adjust to the drastic change of orientation before you feel harsh tugs as RM works to undress you, throwing the clothes over to Taehyung who takes his time breathing in your scent, licking the moistness from the fabric.

Namjoon pulls on the rope wrapped around your wrists placing them high above your head, his weight bears down on top of your leg as he grabs your other leg and spreads you wide. The way Taehyung moans reach your ears you suspect he has full view of your naked body. You wiggle against RM’s hold as best you can.

“Mmmm so needy and I’m not even doing anything yet.” RM’s hand leaves your wrists as he moves lower, resting his upper body on top of yours, effectively pinning your lower body down. Having full reign to play with you in this position, you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. Your tied hands explore the expanse of his back, his shoulders so wide you can’t reach around to end his teasing, you can only moan and whimper at his slow ministrations.

“Ahh so wet,” RM massages everywhere except the place you want him most.

This is mean, this is tortuous, you’ve obeyed them and they still tease you. You cry out in frustration, clenching every time his fingers poke at your hole, RM’s grip on your thigh is too tight to move even an inch. You shove his back with your tied hands and RM laughs.

“Tae, help me out.” You feel fingers finally pressing into your aching clit, rubbing slow circles, making you cry out. RM’s fingers continue to drag across your lips, gathering the wetness that drips from your core. They slowly and steadily work the tension out of you until you’re numb with pleasure.

You let out a scream when your orgasm finally hits you. After being tortured all night, teased until you were delirious, the release becomes so intense you black out, and when you come to RM is pumping his fingers into you roughly. Your body seizes up again, racing into another orgasm. He rocks his hand into you, thumb rubbing your sensitive hood, and you release again. But RM doesn’t stop. He takes and takes, leaving you breathless. The sounds of your wetness fills the room, mixing with Taehyung’s grunts and moans at your helpless state.

“I c-can’t...too sensitive!”

“This is what you wanted, for Daddy to use you. Take it.”

Your tied hands try to move RM’s body off of you, but he is like a boulder on top of your body, unaffected by your hits. You struggle until his pleasure overtakes the pain, and you fall back, losing yourself in the way his fingers fill you up, hitting the deepest parts of you so skillfully. You stop fighting and accept the power he holds over you, he is making you feel so good you want him to take it, the thought sends you hurtling into another orgasm, tightening again around his fingers.

He can feel how close you are. “Be a good girl and give me one more,” RM groans, “that’s it.”

You’re wailing in pleasure now, unable to stop your cries. Your weak body shaking in his grasp. You feel something wet hit your outstretched thigh. Taehyung’s deep grunts of release finally undoing the coil inside you, and you orgasm for a third time around RM’s fingers.

RM lets go of you finally and you lie boneless, breathing ragged, blind and numb to the world. The air feels cool on your sweaty body as you come down from your high. You feel the bed dip as RM joins you again. Before he had been fully dressed, now you can feel his warm skin against your slippery body.

He lays himself between your legs. His lips finally meet yours, they feel full. You moan into his mouth as his tongue plays with yours. You want to touch his face but your arms are still tied together, so you caress his hair instead, the back of his neck, his muscular shoulders, trying to feel as much as you can.

His hard length brushes against your oversensitive core, his mouth swallowing your whimpers as he pushes himself in. You’re so wet there’s no resistance, but the stretch still leaves you gasping. His thrusts are hard and deep, you focus on how the weight of his body feels on top of yours as he uses you to reach his high. “You’re taking Daddy so well, baby.”

“T-Thank you, Daddy,” you stutter out between moans.

RM holds your wrists down as he finishes, releasing deep inside you. You feel every pulse from his cock, the pressure almost becoming too much as he fills you up.

You hear the familiar scrape of the chair again as Taehyung comes closer, fingers wiping away the tears on your face making you feel cared for. You don’t see how he licks your salty tears off his hand.

RM lifts your tired body in his arms, cradling you to his chest. He puts you in his lap as he takes a seat in the vacant chair.

“Tae has been such a patient boy, I think it’s time for his reward.”

RM moves your body so your back is flush against his, pulling the rope on your hands around his head, locking your arms. His hand massages up and down your legs, putting his knees in between yours.

“Kneel.” You realize RM is addressing Taehyung. He spreads his legs to make room for Taehyung, forcing your legs open in the process.

“RM-” Namjoon places his hand over your mouth, the same way he did at the party, stifling your scream as Taehyung buries his face into your pussy.

Taehyung eats you out while RM keeps you open, until you’re shaking in his lap, until you can’t form anything coherent anymore, until you’re so sensitive Taehyung’s lips around your clit is the only thought in your head, the drag of his tongue pulling away from you the last thing you feel before exhaustion sends you into the deepest sleep of your life.

---

You wake up alone.

You pull the sheets closer to your naked body as you look around the vacant room. Everything is moved back to its place, floor empty. You search the ground for your clothes but there’s nothing there. You pull yourself out of bed, trying to ignore your aching joints and pounding head. You look for your clothes but there’s nothing. You search the entire room, the closet is empty, the dresser is empty, there’s not even a towel in the bathroom. Where the hell are your clothes?!

You make your way back into bed, pulling the covers over your body.

Oh fuck, what are you going to do?

What time is it? They just left you and took your clothes. What kind of sick game is Taehyung playing now? Tears well up in your eyes.

You feel more confused than ever, Taehyung had been so sweet to you before, you had often fantasized meeting him, but he was so different in person. You hadn’t expected this. He’s going to come back, right? Right?!

You are pulled away from your thoughts at the sound of the door creaking open.

“I see you’ve been a very bad girl.” Your eyes widen as Yoongi makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He looks as smug as ever, holding a hanger over his shoulder.

“A-Are those my clothes?”

“Are these the clothes I gave you last night? No, looks like you fucked yourself out of those.” You pull the bedsheet closer to you, gritting your teeth, blinking away your tears.

“Yoongi...”

“Hmm?” He leans against the bedpost, the clothes hanger hanging off one finger. You want to punch him, but you know you're walking on thin ice already.

“P-please help me.”

“You lost the clothes I got you. Why should I give you more?” You can tell he’s itching to humiliate you.

“So you’re just going to leave me here naked?!” you yell at him.

His eyes narrow. He grabs the bedsheet and pulls, dragging it off your body before you can stop him. You wrap your arms around your chest and pull your legs together.

“I should, after what you did!” Yoongi screams, “Whoring yourself out to my friends. Two at the same time, enjoy yourself? Fucking slut.” His words sting you. How could you fuck up so badly, you just let yourself become overtaken by lust.

“Now look at you. You let them take advantage of you. They used you and they left you with nothing. What would you have done if I didn’t find you?” He crosses his arms, his cold eyes glaring at you.

You burst into tears. Is he right? Is that what they did to you? “I’m-s-so-sorry,” you manage to say between sobs.

He sighs, “I’m here now.” You need him, he’s going to make you see that. He moves closer, lifting your chin to look at him. “If they had taken this,” his hand brushes your choker, “I would have killed them.”

You look at him pleadingly, trying to silence your sniffles. He offers you the clothes hanger, “Change into this.”

---

You unzip the clothes bag and pull out a dress with a light flowery pattern. The fabric is sheer and flowy. The matching lingerie set is pastel pink and strappy. Well, even if he is an asshole at least you can count on Yoongi to make you look good. You clean up your makeup and style your hair as best you can in the empty bathroom, removing what's left of the smudged dark eyeshadow, pushing thoughts from last night away. The more you try to make sense of what transpired, the more confused you become, and remembering just makes you feel hot all over.

Yoongi pushes himself off the wall when you open the door.

There is still music playing, still people dancing, a lot less than the night before, but you’re amazed there are any at all.

“Does the party ever end?” you think out loud.

“Only if you want it to.”

Yoongi leads you outside. When you reach the backyard you realize the party truly never really ended, only moved. Partygoers lounge by the pool, drinking and eating.

“Is that a fucking mermaid?” Girls dressed up in tails lay about the pool, you're about to run towards them when Yoongi pulls you away from the pool. “Let’s eat before you decide to go make friends.”

You walk in step. He looks put together as always, wearing simple light clothes, a white shirt tucked into tan pants, an unbuttoned collared shirt on top.

“Is everyone here a House member?” You ask, finally sober enough to start learning some things.

“Yes, I thought it was obvious. It’s nothing official. Just a get-together after our quarterly meeting, something for our investors.”

Right, never did you just have a ‘get-together’ like this. It's annoying how out of touch they are.

You see the familiar faces of his friends sitting in a secluded area. Before you and Yoongi get within earshot he grabs your arm.

“If Taehyung and Jungkook try to touch you again, let me know, will you?”

Wait, Jungkook is RM? What? No way, that doesn’t make any sense. He can’t be, he was downstairs when you first met RM. But why does Yoongi think you fucked him? Jungkook is not RM. Though, you remember how he never spoke to you.

His grip on you tightens when you don’t answer, “Y/n…”

“Okay, okay.”

---

Jungkook watches you and Yoongi whispering to one another. You look flustered when Yoongi places a soft kiss on your cheek before breaking away.

He takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples to take the tension away. When he looks up again, Yoongi and you are walking towards the group, your eyes fixated on...him? Jungkook breaks eye contact and looks back at you...and you’re still staring at him. He keeps eye contact with you, face going redder and redder.

He watches as you greet his friends, eyes glancing his way too frequently to call it a coincidence. What the fuck did Yoongi tell you to make you look at him like he grew three heads?

---

“I’ll be right back.” Yoongi makes his way to the far end of the party where Seokjin is talking to another man. You watch as Yoongi embraces the stranger, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen Yoongi smile, not a self satisfied smirk or a threatening grin, but a genuine smile showing off his gums that make the intimidating man look actually cute. The stranger gives him a dimpled smile in return.

“Who’s that with Seokjin?” you ask Jimin.

He looks over to where you're pointing, Jimin's expression full of mirth, “That’s Namjoon, looks like he made it to the party after all.”

“Oh.”

Jimin pulls on your arm, turning you to him, “Let’s go swimming!”

“Oh, but I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“That’s okay, you can go in your underwear,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” Jimin whines as you get up, and you promise him it will only take a minute. You know you’d never get a chance to talk to Jungkook with Yoongi by your side, the two of them seem to have an odd tension between them. But now that Yoongi is distracted with Seokjin and Namjoon, it’s the perfect opportunity.

“Er hello?”

Jungkook’s wide doe eyes looks up at you. “Hello...”

Okay, he definitely doesn’t sound like RM. “Hi, I didn’t get to talk to you last night. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh, hi.”

“...hi.”

This is painfully awkward. You study his frame...he is built. The tank top he’s wearing shows off his broad shoulders and muscular tattooed arms, he looks strong like how you imagine RM. Maybe if you kiss him...

Jungkook watches as you peer over his back. “Dahlia…”

“Hmm? Oh, just call me y/n.” you insist, the alias making you feel self-conscious.

“I missed talking to you...so much.”

“We talked?” Is he really RM? No, it doesn’t feel like him at all.

Jungkook bites his lower lip. His front teeth pressing into his round lips makes him look cute, you think, like a scared rabbit.

“Yes, we used to talk a lot, before...” he bites back the words so he doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “My username is..” Ugh, Jungkook can’t believe he’s saying this to you out loud, why did he have to choose such a dumb username? “PlayboyJK.”

“Oh, oh! I remember you!” You remember your conversations with him. He was a good tipper, a bit unconventional in his requests, but he was always one of the first viewers to your stream.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you would watch me.”

“Why?”

“You’re just so...handsome? I’m just surprised, I guess!”

Jungkook’s ears go red at the compliment. You’re so perfect, you’re a goddess. He’d watch you all day every day, he’d watch you sleep. How could you think he wouldn’t want to watch you?

“I think you’re so beautiful, I like you a lot.”

“T-Thank you,”

“Are you going to start streaming again?

“Ha no no. I put all that behind me. Well, I thought I did,” you say after noticing Jungkook’s confused expression. “Um, it’s a long story.”

“Oh, you don’t have to join again. I could, um, pay you directly.”

“You’d pay me? For what?” you laugh, but you're curious to hear his answer.

“For anything, I’d pay you...just be with me.” you look into Jungkook’s wide eyes, so determined. Maybe if Yoongi had asked you this way, you would have considered it.

“I-HEY!” You squeal as Hoseok lifts you out of your seat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look of dismay as he pulls the younger man to his feet too.

Somehow you ended up in the pool with your dress still on. The sheer fabric doing little to hide the lingerie underneath for all the men to see.

---

The sun has already left the horizon while you sit on the deck of Yoongi’s yacht, drying off your body from the day's watery fun. You listen to the waves hit the walls of his boat as it sloshes around in the water, the rhythm like a whispering melody. The twilight casts everything in blue, the smell of salt and fresh air along with sound of the sea's waves is just so relaxing. What you wouldn't give to experience this all the time.

“Come back with me.” Yoongi's hushed voice breaks your trance.

“And be what, your personal servant?" you scoff, "I don’t think so.”

"What about those girls at the party? You could be like them, always having fun, the center of attention."

You bite your lip. "I don't want that." You wonder if Yoongi will believe you when you don't even believe yourself.

"Or I could just give you all my attention." He gets closer to you. "All this could be your life."

"Maybe I like my life-"

Yoongi laughs at you, earning himself a glare.

"Or I could just keep you here." He smirks down at you.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t dare me.”

You stop glaring at him, turning your head away. You watch the lights on the mansion turn on as the night settles in.

“Do you really want to go back to that boring job?” You roll your eyes at his words. “Don’t you want more? To have fun? I’ll give you everything you want."

"I don’t think you could give me everything."

"Just try. You can always go back, I’m sure that manager friend of yours would rehire you."

You sigh, breathing in deep the salty air.

“I would have to put in my two weeks...”

---

Hobi’s scene was fun to write, I haven’t been to parties or dancing in so long I was like what the hell happens again? Now I wanna dance! Reader who said Yoongi will throw her into the sea last chapter you made me laugh so hard I almost considered making him do that lol. I guess there’s still some time to piss him off enough! Do you believe Yoongi? What do you think (or want) to happen next? <3

[honeyhan-123]

A Slice of Heaven ~ Part One

Summary: When Jensen stumbles across Melody Meringue on a cam website, he just can’t forget her and his obsession blurs the lines between right and wrong.

Warnings: masterbation, camgirl, mention of anal.

Word Count: 1.7k

AN: This can be read as a standalone and has very little - if any - darkness to it. However, Jensen will start to turn dark in the later parts. 

Also this is my first time writing for Jensen so I hope you enjoy!

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It all started with a crass joke made by Cougar. Like most of his jokes, Jensen was there but of it. He was used to it by now but something about the way Cougar patronised him about how he wouldn’t understand because of his inability to make a woman look his way just got under his skin. 

Even as Jensen made his way home later that night he was still seething. His anger wasn’t directed at Cougar but at women in general. Why didn’t they pay him any attention? He was just as fit as Cougar, just as smart as him too, probably more so given everything he could do with a computer, but women still ignored him.

He was too potent up to eat so instead Jensen logged onto his laptop and opened up a private browser. He hardly had to type in the first word before google knew what he wanted, offering up the direct link. He was greeted with a black screen and bold red words slowly started to appear. Hot single and lonely.

Jensen pulled his laptop to the edge of his desk and reached into the draw, searching for the secret little satin bag with one hand while his other scrolled down the website. He wasn’t sure what he was in the mood for tonight but he was having fun looking at all the choices. He was tossing up between a best friend threesome and a horny stepmom when a little notification along the top left of the screen caught his eye. 

Melody Meringue is about to go live. Click here to join. 

Jensen had never really been one for cam girls, he preferred to be able to to skip to the good parts but there was something about the little miniature image of you. There you were kneeling on your bed, a white babydoll covering your sensuous curves, and a golden mask covering the top half of your face. He couldn’t help but click on the link. 

It was free to join so Jensen figured you must be pretty new to the scene. You mustn't have amassed enough followers yet for them to charge a joining fee. 

You hadn’t started the session yet so while Jensen was waiting for it to begin he headed to the kitchen, his little satin bag in hand. He still had enough time to boil some water before you were meant to start, plus Jensen figured you wouldn’t get to the good stuff for a while, wanting to go through as many pay barriers as possible. 

When the water started to bubble over, Jensen opened up his most recent purchase. It was pitiful that he had had to stoop so low, relying on a flashlight to keep him company. Maybe if women weren’t so shallow and vapid, he’d have a real pussy to fuck. 

By the time his toy had warmed up enough and was once again sitting in front of his screen, you were ready to start. 

‘Well, it looks like I have a nice big turnout tonight. Thank you all so much, you really do know how to make a girl feel special.’ Jensen swallowed thickly. Your voice was so perfect, so sweet and innocent. He could already tell a girl like you didn’t belong on a seedy website like this. 

‘To any newcomers, I’m Melody Meringue and here’s how this is going to work. I’m here to please you, to make sure you have a good time and the best way to ensure that is to click on the little dollar sign down the bottom. There’ll be a list of actions I can perform for you, each with a different amount attached. However if there’s anything you’d like to see that isn’t listed just send me a message and I’m sure we’ll be able to arrange something.’ 

All of that seemed fairly standard to Jensen, despite never having seen a show like this before and he was surprised by how many messages there were already. They ranged from ‘c’mon Melody. Let Daddy see those gorgeous tits’ all the way to much more crude messages ‘I want to see that big purple dildo up your ass this time’. A wave of heat flushed through Jensen as he read that last message. He could barely imagine a sweet thing like you taking something up the ass but god, did he want to see it. 

With one hand Jensen fumbled with his best while his other filled the fleshlight with lube. He was already straining against his pants and he was desperate to get off with you.

He watched with eager eyes as your hands travelled up your luscious body and squeezed your tits together, letting the flesh pop out over the top. How he wanted to bury his face on your chest, kissing and nuzzling the tender skin there. Or slide his cock between your tits, coating them in his essence. 

Jensen had no idea how long he had been watching but you’d discarded the chiffon babydoll and bra you had one underneath when the first paywall came up. It was only $5 to keep on going and Jensen was definitely hooked enough to keep on watching. Plus his dick was now aching from how hard he was. 

He was brought back to your image as you knelt on the bed, your hands dancing along your nearly naked body. The lighting had changed slightly, becoming slightly darker and more sensual as you prepared to go further into your show. After about a minute of you teasing the audience, waiting for everyone to join back in. ‘It’s so lovely to see so many of you interested in little ol’ me. Well… really I guess you’re actually more interested in this pretty little pussy aren’t you?’ You gripped your cunt over the thin material of your panties and slowly gyrated your hips as you rubbed yourself. ‘Don’t you worry Baby. I’m gonna give you exactly what you want.’ 

Jensen let out a soft gasp as you barred yourself to the camera. He definitely had to admit you really did have a very pretty little pussy. Even from the angle of the camera he could see your slick as it dripped out onto your thighs. His cock was pulsing against his stomach, firm and flushed with precum dribbling down from the tip. He was so hard he couldn’t bear being untouched anymore so he gingerly eased himself into the little hole of his fleshlight, wishing it was you. 

He was so sensitive and the warmed silicone was almost too much as it contracted, pulling him in even further. His eyes were glued to you as you moved on the bed, leaning back so that the camera had a clear shot of your fingers swirling around in your slick, rubbing your precious little clit as you let out moan after moan and Jensen turning his volume up to the max, not wanting to miss a single sound coming from you. 

Jensen had never felt this desperate to cum. He was so close to typing a message to you, begging you to cum for him so he could too. He refused to do it before he got to see the pleasure course its way over your body, but the familiar tightening in his gut had a different idea in mind. 

He watched enamoured as you slipped one finger into your wet hole, and then another one, scissoring them together while your palm brushed against your clit. You were a heavenly sight as you fingered yourself harder and faster and Jensen was right on the edge about to let his own release overpower him. He was so freaking close, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the toy desperately but suddenly, your image was gone. 

And just like that, so was Jensen’s orgasm. 

He huffed as he approved the next paywall. It was slightly more expensive than the first but Jensen didn’t even pay attention to the price, he needed to see you again too badly. 

When the stream resumed you were once again kneeling on the bed, this time with a cute little rabbit in your hands. You were lathering it up with lube, pumping it generously and Jensen twitched in excitement. He wanted to see your perfectly manicured hand wrapped around him. 

You pouted towards the camera as you continued your work, pushing out your plump lips. ‘I wish you were here so I could have your cock but instead I guess I’ll have to settle for this one.’ Jensen could hear the faint squelch when you sank down onto the bulbous tip.  Only the small flared base poked out and you smiled rakishly at the camera. 

‘Tell me Baby. Do you wanna see me fuck myself like this or are you gonna let me turn on the vibrations?’ Jensen eagerly reached for the keyboard, typing his first message of the night. 

Of course you can Honey. I wanna see you come apart for me.

He hit send before he could see anyone else's messages. He wanted to pretend it was only you and him in this show. 

You must have read his message on your small tablet because a smile lit up your features. ‘Thank you Baby. You’re gonna make me cum so hard. I’m already so close.’ 

The soft hum of vibrations echoed through Jensen’s speakers and even louder were your moans as they fell from your lips. Jensen slid the fleshlight over his cock in time with your bounces and if he squinted he could almost pretend you were right there in front of him, bouncing up and down on his cock. H

He could tell you were close as you reached up to grasp your tits. ‘I’m gonna… please. Please let me cum Baby. God I need to. Please!’ You begged the camera and a string of approval filled the chat. ‘Thank you Baby. I -’ your sentence broke off half way through as your orgasm washed over you. Jensen could see your muscles tense and convulse as the pleasure rushed its way through you and he felt his own orgasm crash over him. His breath came in spurts as he filled the toy with his seed. 

You stuck around a little longer, thanking your patrons and reminding them of your times and Jensen made a little mental note, promising that he wouldn’t miss any of them. 

+

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[jxmieoleksiaks]

Paradise -> Mat Barzal

This is for @antoineroussel​ ‘s summer fic exchange! I had the lovely, and awesome @texanstarslove   I was so excited when I found out I had you, but wanted to wait until the season ended, though I know just like me, you didn’t need a repeat of last year. I think your writing is amazing, and I’ll never forget you randomly boosted me, and I’ve gained a lot of followers since then. I really hope you enjoy. I’m also so sorry this took so long 💚

Word Count: 2,390 Smut: Mentions Language: Yes

It was like deja vu. The team had lost again, to the same team, in the same round, for the second year in a row. This time though, it stung a little more, as their were fans, and they were in Tampa. It didn’t help the players were making fun of the guys getting a little emotional. You were too, and not only because you were heartbroken about the loss, it was your boyfriend Mat. He worked his butt off all season, and off season to stay in shape, and be best for his team. You knew he would get emotional, and he did, the first night after the loss, being the toughest. He was proud of him and his teammates, and vowed to make sure this didn’t happen again.

Mat was one of the toughest guys you knew. From the random night you met him at the bar, to when he had the two black eyes in last years playoffs, literally nothing stopped him. The idea of love never existed in your mind. Seeing your parents loveless marriage and hoping one day they would divorce and you could live with your mother, made you think that actual love never existed. But with Mat it was easy, you two could have nights out, and nights in and have the same amount of fun, you could see a future with him, but you were not in any rush for major things to happen.

It was now July, and you two had decided to take a vacation, a much needed one in fact. With last years bubble, and this years crazy season, he needed a vacation just as much as you did, someone who worked 40 hours a week, and also had to log in some on the weekend.

“Okay, where should we go?” You asked Mat, who was reclined at the end of the couch, while your legs were across his waist, laying on the couch, with your laptop sitting on you with vacation websites on.

“Somewhere warm?” He questioned, as he was watching the NBA finals.

‘That narrows it down a bit.” You laughed.

“You know what I mean!” He laughed back. “No where that’s like, not beach like, does that help?” He asked, taking a drink of the beer he was drinking.

“Yes, thanks.” You shook your head and started to google places you two could go.

As much as you loved Disney, and wanted to go there, you two needed some private time, and that was not the place for it. You looked a couple more places, and gasped at the website you were on.

“Look at this!” You exclaimed and sat up.

He looked to his left and noticed a vacation website for a resort in the Maldives. There were resorts. and private villa’s, and as you saw on your many hours of Tik Tok scrolling, it was pretty affordable.

“Oh that looks really cool.” He nodded, grabbing the MacBook from you to look around.

“It’s perfect, I heard it’s pretty adorable too.”

“Babe, that shouldn’t be the deciding factor, I can afford to take you to somewhere you really wanna go.” He said seriously. You did appreciate that about him, but in the back of your mind, you didn’t want people to think you were using him for his money, which was not the case whatsoever. You loved him for him, and you were just someone who worked and cheered on your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but I wanna go here!” You smiled. “Let me and a cool resort, and then we can think about booking it.” You smiled as you got off the couch quickly to grab a glass of wine, loving the fact you were about to book a romantic and fun vacation.

The trip was booked about three hours later, and in two weeks you would be heading to an island paradise. You never flew across the ocean before, so that part. made you nervous, but you couldn’t be more excited to finally get some peace and quiet with Mat.

You and Mat were now sitting at the gate in JFK, getting ready to catch the first flight, which landed in Dubai. You had an iced latte in your hand, which made the nerves you were having a little bit worse. Along with never flying across the ocean, you’ve never had a 19 hour flight before, and that was nerve-racking to you.

“Babe, are you okay?” He asked you, sounding concerned.

“Yeah, I think it’s the flight that makes me nervous.” You said, before taking a sip of the coffee.

“It’s gonna be alright, I promise, plus we have first class, and that should make things a little more comfortable. If you feel uneasy, just lean on me.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head, making your mind ease, and heart feel warm with love.

Movies, laughs, and naps made the flight, and it’s connecting in Dubai, made it so much easier to do, and now you two were on a boat with other couples, and three families to make their way to the resort. When the two of you checked in, and headed to your bungalow, you felt like you could cry. The water was a type of blue you had only seen in movies. The sky, was something out of a book, that you could imagine with your eyes closed. It was perfect.

“Holy shit, you gotta see this patio!” Mat said as he was walking around the place you were staying the next week. You walked outside and saw a private deck, with some chairs, but also a swing. You just imagined watching the sunset with the both of you on the swing.

“I don’t know how I was able to find this place and pull it off so easy. This is a literal Oasis.” You said, your eyes almost bulging out of your head with how beautiful it was.

“Ah, well, the view is almost as beautiful as you.” He grinned.

“Mat, nothing is as beautiful as this view, shh.” You laughed and rolled your eyes, but you knew he meant those words.

You never purposely pushed his complements down, it’s just who you were.  You never really got complements before meeting him, so it was kind of..a reaction.  The first time he compared you to the beautiful full moon, one April night, you almost cried with laughter. You thought he was quoting a movie or something, but you could tell he really meant it. He knows that you’re going to shove them off, knowing that something that happens in nature, and in space is something amazing, but he really thought you hung the moon.

There was a little cafe in the main part of the resort, away from all the bungalows. You could get your morning cup of coffee, while eating breakfast and looking out at the views, and people watch too. It was the middle day of your trip, and you were already dreading of leaving, but didn’t want to think about that just yet. You two were going to do your own things today, he wanted to golf, and you wanted to check out the resort spa. You had gotten up before he did, and went over to the cafe, leaving him a note, since he didn’t wake up for anything, and kisses his forehead.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Mat questioned, as he sat down with a cup of coffee, already dressed for a day out on the green.

“I tried…You don’t wake up for shit!” You laughed. “If we were home, and the dog went missing, I would scream, you would snore.” A giggle left your mouth as he rolled his eyes, he knew it was true, and so did you.

“When we finish up, we can change and go out to the bar, that’s over the water.” He said, taking a sip of coffee.  

Your heart about fluttered, the views from the bar looked amazing, the bar after dark, over the ocean, thought you could do that in your bungalow, something about drinks around other people, and being so close to Mat, excited you to no end.

You and Mat planned on going to the bar when he cleaned up from his day of golf, but a nap called the both of you, and you two didn’t get there until after the sunset. You were a little bummed, until you saw the bar, and it’s area surrounded in hanging lights,

“Wow.” You sighed, after the waiter took the drink orders. “How does this place keep getting better…” You said, unable to believe you were here.

“I hope these drinks are good.” He chuckled, throwing your own feelings back to you.

“Oh, so now I get the shoved response?” You playfully rolled your eyes, before looking at the ocean in front of you.

The tequila sunrises and Screw Drivers the two of you were drinking, were really making you two feel really good.  You don’t remember when you decided to sit on Mat’s lap, but he was pretty comfortable, and was keeping a good grip on you.

“You know, you could stick your hand up my dress and no one would know.” You giggled, before taking the last sip of your tequila sunrise.

“There’s no one around?” He looked around.

“I..don’t think so, it’s dark, there could be people around us, but that’s more fun.” The alcohol was running through you,

“As much as I love that idea, and how I would love for you to just ride me, I think it would be better to do this in the room, no?” He asked, his lips against your neck.

You never had the idea of something pubic, but he was right, your private space was made for the adventures you two had in bed, and though you two were having a lot of fun doing that already, you always had time for more, and agreed.

“Let’s go back.” You whispered before you hopped off his lap.

He paid the bill and left a decent tip for the waiter, he did hear the both of you slightly slur and probably thought you two were up to something when you hopped on his lap. You grabbed Mat’s hand and headed back to the bungalow.

You were first into where you were staying, and he quickly picked you up after you set your bag down on the table. You giggled as he placed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“I don’t know how you do it, you just look so damn beautiful.” He whispered before he quickly pressed his lips onto yours. You wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you deeply, you two may have been a little tipsy, but you could feel the love in every kiss, and every movement after.

You two probably would have woke neighbors if you had any. The way Mat made you feel was something no on else had been able to do. With the couple of years you two had been together, he knew where to touch you, how to do it, and what to do, to make you come undone in a matter of moments. A lot of people would say men don’t care that their woman didn’t cum, but he did, and he made sure you did every time.

You let out a load moan, and released as Mat groaned. After a moment of staying connected, he pulled out, and after you ran to the bathroom, you two were now laying in bed, bare and the moon shining into your room.

“This trip has been perfect so far.” You sighed quietly, as you set your head on his chest.

“You did good babe, I have to admit it.” He chuckled as he played with your hair.

“Is it bad I had no idea where this place was until I had to google it?” You asked, not being the best with geography, but honestly not knowing where it was.

“You really think I knew where this place is, babe….” He said, knowing he wasn’t that great with geography either.

“Fuck what happens if we get on the wrong flight or something?!” You asked.

“Siri will help us, because we can’t help our way around a map. I’m not the leader in any of these hockey trips for a reason.” He shook his head, and you covered your face trying not to laugh so hard.

“Listen, I know the last couple of seasons didn’t go as planned, but I don’t know if I could be more proud of you, you just…work so hard, and I see it, and I hope others do too. If you go to the Olympics, and they let family in, I’m screaming my ass off for team Canada.” You said, meaning every single word.

“I like heading that from the guys, but babe, you know it means so much coming from you.” He said. “And trust me, if I even make the Olympic team, I’d love to have you there. You’d be screaming the loudest, and probably freak out some of the others, and I want nothing more than that.” He started to laugh more.

Even with your normal type job, you wanted to be there for him as much as you could. You had even worked remotely to support him in the playoffs, and knowing he would do the same for you if he had the chance meant so much. You knew he was the one, even though you two were a little busy to think about the M word, you knew, when you both were ready, you would be the one, that he would ask, you, and you would say yes.

“Babe?” He asked you.

“What’s up?” You were a little nervous, he sounded a little unsure of himself.

“You’re gonna plan our next vacation when we get back, right? You’ve done great with this one, and now I need you to plan everything.”

You hid your face in his chest, and started laughing again.

“I love you.” You told him.

“I love you too babe, he kissed the top of your head, something you always wanted him to do, and it brought you comfort, the feeling that you had right at this moment.

[murphyhatesme]

Getting a new car leads to some life changing realisations .. After a talk with Chin Danny finally decides to take a chance on Steve.

--

Danny closes his eyes and presses his lips together before he answers Jack, from ballistics, “Yeah okay, I’ll get back to you with a budget okay?”

“Sure thing Danny, I’ve already given them an estimate on the parts so that should help.”

“Yes it should, thanks Jack. Hopefully we’ll talk soon.”

Just as he puts his phone down Steve walks into his office, “what was the verdict?”

“It’s totalled. Couldn’t be saved. I’m going to have to speak with the governor about a budget.”

“ Ah .”

Danny looks up at that, “What did you do?”

Steve takes a step back, pointing at himself “Me? Nothing?”

“ Steven. ”

Steve sighs, “Now, I need you to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Tell me!”

“A ah, promise me first.”

“Steven I swear to god ..”

“Fine! I was going to tell you at dinner tonight. I may have talked to Sam already and he agreed with my choice.”

“Your choice? Explain how this is your choice when it’s my car?”

“Danny, I always drive our car.”

“Excuse you, there is nothing ‘ our’ about the car. It’s mine!”

Steve waves his protests away and walks around the desk coming to stop besides Danny. He leans over and pulls the keyboard towards himself. Danny refuses to move aside and Steve is signing, letting him know he’s annoyed by Danny’s unwillingness to move aside. He knows he’s being petty but he’ll be damned if he lets Steve take over his office as well as his life.

“Will you just ..” Steve snaps before shoving the keyboard back “Ugh, fine! Have it your way you big baby.” he steps back and Danny smirks only to lose it when his chair is jerked back and he’s bodily lifted out of his seat. 

Danny can feel his eyes widen as he’s sat down on Steve’s lap. “Excuse you?” Squirming he tries to stand up but Steve tuts at him and rolls the chair back up to the desk. Pulling the keyboard closer he logs out of Danny’s mail and into his own. “Steve, I’m sorry okay, can you let ..” He’s distracted by the beautiful, sleek black Camaro that appeared on screen. He bends forward and takes over the keyboard, he immediately opens google. He types in the dealer’s website, looking up the specs on the car Steve just showed him.  “Did you really? And Sam agreed? You really ordered this one?”

Steve chuckles behind him, “Yes Danny, really. So I take it, you're fine with me picking our car?”

Danny nods and sits back, Steve’s hands wrap around his waist to keep him from sliding down and he’s suddenly aware of just where he’s sitting. His breath hitches and his stomach muscles quiver when a warm thumb caresses his hip bone, oh fuck. He bolts up and steps away from his desk, clearing his throat, “Right, so uh when is it arriving?”

Steve’s eyes are glittering with amusement when he answers “We can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Okay, so first thing in the morning?”

“Uhu, we have an appointment at nine.”

“Great! Now go, I have things to do.”

Steve smirks, “sure, things ..”

Danny can feel his face flush and he narrows his eyes, “What’s with the tone? Huh? You don’t believe I have things to do?”

“Oh no, I do believe that, but I wonder if you are ever going to own up to those things .” 

Danny freezes, his first thought is that Steve knows! Followed by he knows and wants Danny to do something about it. He files it away and shoos Steve out of his office. More than a little freaked out he picks up his wallet and drags Chin out for an early lunch. Chin is a good soundboard and he’ll be honest.

*

 After ordering he folds his hands and takes a deep breath, “So Steve ..” he pauses, not sure how to begin. 

Chin sighs deeply, “So he finally told you huh?”

Danny sits up and he eyes Chin suspiciously, “What exactly do you think he told me?”

Chin rolls his eyes, “Danny, he feels the same way about you as you feel about him. He’s been waiting for you to act on it.”

“Well if he knew then he could have been the one to act on it.”

Chin raises his brow, “No, because you would have hidden behind a wall of insecurities and excuses.”

“And those still stand!”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because .. I rea .. No, I just ..” He sighs, “Maybe I freaked out a little bit.” Chin nods his head in sympathy and Danny bristles “Not because of the reasons you think! He’s my boss and I actually like him. If I act on it and it goes south then I ..”

Chin interrupts him, “You forget that he’s in the same boat, also are you really scared that things won’t work out? Because you and Steve are basically married already.”

“We are not!” 

Chin holds up his hand “Couples counselling Danny.” he ticks off a finger, “You share a car.” He puts another finger down, “You live together and last but not least,” he ticks off another finger, “You have a date night every other week.”

Danny shakes his head, “No, nope. It’s my car. I stay in the guest room because I have mold. And we watch a game!”

Chin however is not impressed, “You two cuddle, Danny.”

“Ugh! Fine. it’s only because it’s easy with him okay!”

“Danny, why is it easy?”

 “We’re best friends. I trust him.”

“I’m your best friend.”

“That’s different.”

“Brah ..” Chin lets out a long suffering sigh. 

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Danny .. Stop running, he loves you just as you are. He isn’t Rachel.”

Closing his eyes, Danny breathes out. “I know, okay. I know.”

Chin smiles at him, “Good talk. Should we take back lunch for Steve and Kono?”

“Fine, what does Kono normally like?”

“She likes spicy tuna.” 

Danny orders a spicy tuna sandwich and a meat lover's one for Steve. When he gets back to the table Chin is smirking, “What?”

“You notice how you didn’t even think about what to get for Steve?”

“That logic is flawed because you knew what Kono liked.”

“Only because I take our lunch orders at least twice a week, what’s your excuse?”

Danny decides to ignore the knowing grin and focuses on the counter, waiting for their order to be called. 

*

 The next morning Danny is up early, he tries to enjoy his morning coffee but he’s too excited, or nervous. He’s getting a new car. He ignores the other reason for his nerves. Despite him waiting for it he still startles when the front door opens and Steve swans in. “Ready?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Come on, traffic is going to be a bitch.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you made an appointment on Saturday at nine.” But he still follows Steve out to the truck. He manages to slap the back of his partner's head when he hears Steve mutter ‘ bitch bitch bitch ’.

Steve is in the office with the dealer, taking care of the paperwork and Danny is standing in front of his car. The powerful, sleek, black muscle car is exactly what he’d have chosen for himself. Which also means  that despite what he says Steve knows Danny through and through. He slowly walks around the car, fingers lightly tracing the shiny new paint. He slides into the driver's seat, lovingly caressing the steering wheel and smiling as he takes in the new car smell. 

Steve comes out of the office, and the manager waves over one of the sales guys. Steve smiles when their eyes meet and Danny smiles back as he holds up his thumb. Steve gestures for him to get out before turning and shaking the manager’s hand. Danny gets out and Steve steps in close as the salesman, Gary, who followed Steve comes over to shake his hand. “You made the right decision with this car.”

“Yes, I believe we did. Do I have to sign anything?”

“No Sir, your husband took care of everything.” Danny opens his mouth to correct the assumption but Gary is talking again, “So here are the keys.” He hands the keys to Steve, “Congratulations on your buy.” 

Danny plucks the keys out of Steve’s hand, “Thanks Gary.” He leaves Steve standing there as he slides back into the driver's seat. When Steve pulls the seatbelt over his chest Danny starts the car, “What about your truck?”

“Nahele is picking it up with Jerry later, driving lessons.”

Danny nods and turns smoothly onto the motorway, “I love my new car.”

“ Our car Danny.”

“Just because Gary back there thinks we are married doesn’t make it true.”

“So I feel like this car is a Goliath?” Steve says and Danny chokes.

“Excuse me?”

“No? Atlas then?”

“We are not naming this car Atlas.” Danny snaps

Steve grins. “It has a lot of horsepower, so maybe black beauty, BB for short?” 

“No, this car has no name. It doesn’t need one. If we name it then we become attached and in our line of work that is not a good thing Steven.”

“So Zeus is out?”

“Oh my god. Stop it. Please for the sake of my sanity.” 

Steve suddenly seems to notice they are driving out of town instead of home. “Huh? Where are we going?”

Danny grins but doesn’t say anything. He takes a right turn and smiles when he hears the quiet ah as Steve figures out where they are going. 

When he parks the car, they get out and walk to the edge of the lookout. Danny takes Steve’s hand and presses the keys into his palm. “What are we doing here Danny?”

“I figured something out yesterday, and as you know this is where I go to start life changing decisions.”

“Life changing?” Steve’s tone is both hopeful and disbelieving and Danny suddenly knows he won’t regret what he’s about to confess. Instead of visions of failure he sees himself old and wrinkled on the beach behind their house, bickering about stupid things. For once he can see a happy future because he loves this man and he’s pretty sure Steve loves him in return.

He takes a deep breath, finally ready to say it and mean it. “Okay, I’m going to come out and just say it then. I love you.”

Steve tilts his head, “I love you too?”

“No, Steve, I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. Yes, I knew that.” Steve tells him before pulling him in and kissing him soundly on the lips. 

Danny splutters, and pushes Steve away, “Don’t you have anything to say to that?”

“I’ve been saying it for ages Danny, I’m glad you finally caught up.” Steve states matter of factly and slowly leans back in, Danny shudders as their lips connect once again. Danny deepens it almost immediately and Steve groans as their tongues brush together for the first time. He loses himself in the kisses as the sun steadily rises and the traffic rushes past behind them. 

When they break apart, both breathless Danny sweeps his thumb over Steve’s kiss swollen bottom lip, “How about we go home and find some things to do?”

Steve grins, “Yes please.” He gives Danny a quick, hard kiss before dragging him to the car. 

Danny is laughing as he slides into the passenger's seat, “So eager.”

“Well if I had known that picking out a new car for us would have this result ..”

“A new car for me .” Danny feels the need to point out. 

Steve scoffs, “We both know I’ll be the one to drive it five days out of the week.”

“I ..” and just like that it doesn’t matter, so he sighs and gives in. “Fair enough.”

Steve’s grin lights up his face and Danny knows he’ll spend the rest of life trying to keep that smile in place. 

                                                  Fin

[softluci]

hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z. 

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar? 

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy 

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about. 

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do? 

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone. 

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here. 

at least, you assumed so. 

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking. 

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need 

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie. 

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh. 

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.” 

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response. 

a vpn and a proxy site. 

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster. 

can you set it up for me? 

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed. 

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions. 

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself. 

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more. 

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.” 

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs. 

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you. 

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm. 

you blinked. 

you’ll trigger the what? 

i’ll trigger the fucking What? 

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible. 

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_- 

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world. 

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind. 

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms. 

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea. 

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.” 

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it. 

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway. 

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed. 

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were. 

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something. 

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included. 

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form. 

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone. 

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up. 

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh. 

huh. 

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something. 

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it. 

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨. 

[sloggervlogger]

Feisty Gorilla Baby Wrestles For Her Tomato We know that little Vuko is a feisty girl that stands up to her older brothers. In the last video of her and Louango she pushed her half-brother into the grass and sat on top of him. A squirrel on the rocks watching the gorilla's antics. At the beginning of this video, she gets chased by Koundi who then jumps her, but little Vuko manages to get free. Did you see the squirrel making a quick getaway on the left, quickly climbing up the log? Louango looks like he's defending his little sis, but she wants to get away from both her brothers. It's feeding time and Vuko gets close to Louango who is waiting for the food to be thrown off the roof, she grabs the back of his head and pulls so hard that he topples over. He tries to get away from her, but then she pulls him again by his arm. Vuko got hold of a tomato and now the tables have turned Louango is chasing Vuko to try to snatch her tomato. He runs after her and pulls her to the ground. I think he gets a little piece, but feisty Vuko keeps hold of most of the tomato, yay well done Vuko lol. Louango tries to grab it one more time, but his half-sister just pushes him away. She eats the bit of her tomato in peace and Louango returned to his mum. Some more bits and bobs from the day. Vuko sits in the grass and a clap. She looks quite funny with her foot propping up her arm. In the next clip, she climbs over Koundi. Some drumming on the rocks. She has some me time, pulling out the grass and covering herself with it. Even the Squirrel got his price. Some leftover food is missed by the gorillas. It looks like a Physalis peruviana or ground cherry. This was the last video for now from the Port Lympne Wildlife reserve. Next Thursday it's back to Bristol zoo as I managed to get some more footage before they closed down on the 3rd of September 2022. #sloggervlogger #sloggervloggergorillas Don't forget to subscribe and hit that notification bell for more! Travel, Days out and zoo hyperlapse YouTube channel: https://bit.ly/WatchAndSubTravel My merch shop links with worldwide delivery: Biggest collection of T-shirts, stickers, apparel, homeware and much more rawshutterbug Redbubble https://ift.tt/6VIAR9K #AD #RedbubbleAmbassador Customizable T-shirts, stickers, apparel, homeware and much more Gorillas rawshutterbug Zazzle: https://ift.tt/sL6N7WR Amazon merch and more Amazon USA https://a.co/6NtVxqF Gorilla Apparel Amazon other countries through my website @ https://ift.tt/IOjg6rH rawshutterbug photo4me: Quality wall art @ https://ift.tt/CXDdV5E Some links above are affiliate links, meaning I earn a commission on final purchases with zero additional cost to yourself. Thank you for your visit and for supporting this channel. SloggerVlogger

[tact-and-impulse]

@shepherds-of-haven, thanks for the fun prompts! I’ll be collecting my fics on AO3 as well.

encounter

She really doesn’t belong here.

Her fingers nervously run over the extra card in her pocket, as she scans the undulating crowd for telltale ashen hair and displeased features. It’s difficult, with the rhythmically flashing lights overhead. She’s tried calling, but with the heavy bass tingling in her jaw, it’s no wonder that Prihine hasn’t picked up. What her roommate could be doing in this downtown club, she has no idea, but she also doesn’t know the other girl that well. Prihine is from a wealthy Norm family, she never cleans up after herself, and from her frequent complaints, she loathes that she’s living in an ancient and cramped freshman dorm with a scholarship student who never goes to parties. But if something unsavory has happened to her, that would be awful.

So, she renews her grip on Prihine’s student ID and heads further into the building. She keeps to the walls, which are speckled with colorful paint and feel slightly sticky. But with her back covered, it’s safer this way. At first. Someone is shoved out of the crush, their solid back colliding into her, and she instinctively freezes. The pressure is brief, but she doesn’t wait to hear an apology, before she’s scrambling for the first exit sign in sight. She hurtles into a side street, ignoring the protests of a draft, and turns the nearest corner before collapsing.

The night air is cold, and she inhales lungfuls, trying to calm down. Trying not to cry. She has to find Prihine soon, and then, she can go back to campus. Where her classes are. Where the Mage clubs are filled with people who all know each other from Capra, while she was homeschooled. Where the Hunter organizations talk around her, forgetting she can understand their conversations. She hasn’t felt truly alone in years, but right now-

She isn’t. There’s someone here. She lifts her head and at the end of the alley, only a few paces away, she can make out the silhouette of a Hunter. White hair, gray eyes, a couple of piercings glinting in one ear, tattoos running up and down his arms. He’s crouched and balanced on his heels, an unlit stick of charch between his fingers, as he stares at her. 

“You okay?” His voice is low and placid, like he’s just woken up. 

“I...I just need a minute. I’m not good with crowds in tight spaces.”

“Yeah, I hate it when people breathe on me.”

She vigorously nods in agreement, before realizing. “Then, why are you here?”

“Band has a gig tonight. What about you?”

“I’m looking for my roommate. She forgot her ID, she can’t get back to our dorm without it.”

He gives a skeptical look, tucking the cigarette behind his unpierced ear for safekeeping. “Are you sure she’s in this club?”

While she answers, she takes out her phone. “She hasn’t returned my texts or calls, but she has Instagram. One of her cousins is famous on there, I think, and my roommate’s competitive, so she posts a lot. It looks like she was here in her last one...oh.” She frowns at the website, blocked entirely by a notification. She never did download the app, only searching for clues via Prihine’s frequently used social media, and now she needs an account to continue viewing.

He stifles a laugh, but his expression is only mildly amused as he extends his open palm. “Can I log in and try?”

“Sure. Thank you.” She draws closer to him, passing her device over, and his hand envelops it entirely. His thumbs are almost comically oversized as he types.

“Haven freshman?”

“Yes. Are you an upperclassman?”

“I dropped out a couple years ago. I’m across the street, at the culinary school. Is this the post you mentioned?” He slants the image towards her and she recognizes Prihine’s selfie, taken while she was waiting in line.

“Ah, that’s it! Have you seen her?”

“No, but one of my friends might have. He helps with the band’s publicity, so he’s around. Mind if I ask him?”

“Please, you’d be really helpful. Thank you, um...” 

“Halek.” He supplies, as he dials another guy named Riel, judging by the brief greeting when the call goes through. 

The conversation is short, and she notices the roommate must be from Leore, but she focuses on locating Prihine for the time being, only speaking to provide information and her own name. Riel doesn’t remember seeing the other girl, but he’ll check with security and will call back when they find her. The line dies, and with her phone back in her hands, she hesitates.

Fortunately, Halek pats the adjacent pavement. “Feel free to wait with me. Band’s not on again for another hour, so I’m not leaving.”

Relief sweeps over her, and she sits down, inquiring. “What do you play?”

“None of the others can agree on a genre, but I’m on drums. We perform around town, sometimes on campus if you’ve heard us before.”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” She reflexively apologizes. “I don’t get out much.” Certainly, nowhere other than lecture auditoriums and the dining halls.

“What’s your major?”

“Biology, I’m pre-med.”

“Ah, that explains it. You’d get along with my twin brother, he’s currently applying and I don’t envy him. Everyone in our family’s invested in his acceptance, since somebody needs to live up to their standards. He’s not at Haven, but I can give you his number if you have questions.”

“I don’t want to bother him, if he’s stressed out.”

“He’s always stressed out though. That’s just how he is.” Nevertheless, his tone is fond.

“You must be close.” She draws her knees up, interlacing her fingers around them. “Your family doesn’t approve of your career?”

“They never did, they wanted me to be a politician.” He makes a disgusted expression. “No thanks. Too much work.”

“It definitely is. Signing papers, holding press conferences. A lot of people would be breathing on you.” She does her best to maintain a straight face.

“Exactly.” His gaze shifts to meet hers, and she’s not sure who breaks first, but in the next moment, they’re both laughing. Her hair’s fallen loose, and as she recovers her composure, she tucks it behind her ears. Not for the first time, he glances at the white streak, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he fishes in his back pocket, removing a small punch card that doubles as an advertisement. “Politics would mean quitting my job at the café too. It’s quiet, we have some Haven students like you.”

She accepts it, noting the offer of a free meal after five purchases. “What kind of food do you serve?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” He pulls up his Instagram, scrolling through vibrant pictures of their daily specials, each plate unique. It all seems appetizing, especially in the short cooking videos. In the clips, his steady fingers arrange sandwiches, work over pans of sizzling ingredients, and decorate confections.

There’s one motion in particular that intrigues her. “How’d you do that? Break an egg with one hand?”

“It’s just easier for me, keeps my other one available.”

“You make it look natural.” She attempts to figure out the trick, imagining an egg in her palm and flexing her knuckles.

“One of the waitresses can do it too.”

“So, is it a hiring requirement?”

He laughs again. “No, the other one breaks every egg she touches. You can meet them and see for yourself. You’d probably get along with them.” There’s a pause, as he gives a thoughtful expression. “Thanks.”

Too surprised, she stammers. “F-for what?”

“Usually, I’m too tired for these late night gigs, but right now, I feel fine. I can make it through tonight.”

“...Me too.” She softly says. Her earlier panic has been forgotten, and Halek’s presence is comforting. She’s having fun, just sitting out here and talking. Laughing, which she hasn’t in a long time. Already, she feels closer to him than anyone on campus.

Riel’s return call interrupts them, with the news that her roommate is currently detained at the club’s entrance and clearly unhappy by the screeching in the background. It’s her cue to go, and she hastily brushes herself off, thanking Halek again.

“No problem. Are you going back to your dorm?”

“I thought I would.” She hesitates for just a second, before venturing. “Or I can stay? And listen to your band’s performance?”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “If you want, I can let you in backstage. Take a nap, eat the snacks I brought. You don’t have to worry about crowds at all.”

Oh. That’s very kind of him. Her heart skips a beat, and she hopes she’s not blushing. “Okay then. I’d like that. See you soon?”

“See ya.”

Squaring her shoulders, she makes her way to the front. She braces for whatever abrasive words are in store, but she’s made up her mind. For the first time this semester, she’ll try to have an enjoyable college experience.

[lakesandquarries]

Baby Shoes - Chapter 4

Bubby has been a doctor at Black Mesa for 20 years, living there for 50. He’s been bouncing around from project to project, working on whatever needs most help. He doesn’t have any opinions on his work or his coworkers or anything like that, preferring to keep to himself.

Then he meets Black Mesa’s newest project.

AKA: Bubby is Benrey’s dad au.

title from “Baby Shoes” by Bad Books.

AO3 Link

The sound of the door opening jolts Bubby back into awareness - and Benrey too. They have another full body flinch, smacking their head against the concrete wall in their scramble.

Dr. Zeki’s heels click on the floor. “Dr. Bubby,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “This is certainly a strange place to find you.”

Benrey’s halfway off his lap already. He moves them gently so he can stand up to his full height, and their hands cling to his pant leg. “I wanted to try something new.”

“You’re attached,” Zeki says. “I should have known better than to let you on this project. It’s not sentient, Bubby. It’s not a fun little pet. Don’t you ever wonder what happened to Dr. Tipton? I’m sure you remember him.”

He, unfortunately, does. Dr. Tipton had been assigned to Bubby long ago, and he’d been an utter nightmare. No sense of boundaries, plus terrible hygiene.

“I recall him, yes.”

“This little subject you’re so fond of nearly killed him. It bit him and injected some kind of venom. We had to develop an entire new antivenom, in less than two hours, just for Dr. Tipton. He’s got permanent nerve damage and lost a few fingers, but he’s alive. I can only hope I’ll be able to say the same for you.”

Bubby glances down at Benrey. They’re clinging even tighter now, claws making small holes in Bubby’s pants.

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“Well, in that case.” Her gaze shifts down to Benrey. “You were so interested in its living situation, weren’t you? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if we have it stay with you, then.”

“I don’t, actually.” He folds his arms, leveling his gaze right at Zeki, eyes meeting hers. “You know what, I think that’s a fantastic idea.” 

Zeki smirks at him, unbearably smug. “We’ll have to move you to the Biological Research wing, of course. You can’t be in a regular dorm with it. I’m sure your old room is still available, tube and all.”

Bubby bites the inside of his lip. He’s hated a lot of scientists in his years at Black Mesa, but he’s never had the repeated urge to strangle someone until Dr. Zeki. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure I can find an empty room that can suit my, and the subject’s, needs.”

There’s a buzz from Zeki’s pocket. “Well, you have until I get out of my last meeting. Good luck, Dr. Bubby.” She gives him a final cold glare, turning on her heel and making sure to slam the door behind her.

“Bitch,” Bubby mutters. He hopes Dekkard broke her stuff while he was wrapping it in tinfoil.

There’s a high pitched noise from Benrey, and when Bubby looks down he sees dark bubbles like shadows. He’s careful not to touch them this time, not wanting a repeat of earlier. He crouches back down, eye level with Benrey again.

“Sorry about that,” he says quietly, reaching an arm out and gently placing it on Benrey’s shoulder. “I think I may have fallen asleep as well.”

“I don’t like her,” Benrey mumbles. “She’s scary.”

“I’m not especially fond of her either,” Bubby says. “But, I think this can actually work in our favor.”

“Huh?”

“She tried to scare me with that story, and she thinks she’s punishing me by inviting me to live here with you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Benrey mumbles, hunching their shoulders. “I just - he kept touching me -”

“I’ve had my fair share of encounters with Dr. Tipton. Whatever you did, I’m sure he had it coming.”

“So you - you actually wanna -” Benrey’s eyes are wide and shiny. 

“If you’re alright with it, yes.”

Benrey nods, frantically, leaning their head against Bubby’s shoulder. They can’t quite reach to hug him, so Bubby moves closer, wrapping his arms around them. “I can’t stay for much longer, though. I need to go find us a good room. But I promise I’ll be back, alright?”

Benrey nods, bright yellow bubbles falling from their mouth. Bubby takes a moment to enjoy the wave of joy that comes with them before he forces himself to get up. “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he says. 

Benrey’s whole being seems brighter, somehow. Less grey. Their hands tap against the ground. “Bye,” they say, as Bubby shuts the door gently behind him.

He checks Zeki’s office first. Dekkard is nowhere to be seen, but he’s clearly left his mark. Everything - the table, the computer, each individual pencil - has been painstakingly wrapped in tinfoil.

Bubby grins at the sight, taking a moment to knock a few paper weights off the desk.

He checks Dekkard’s desk next. No sign of him there, either, but his slinky is on the desk, so he can’t be too far. 

Sure enough, he’s in the next spot Bubby checks - the break room. He’s standing in front of the vending machine, looking for all the world like a professor stumped by a difficult math question.

“Dekkard!”

He turns and waves. “Oh, hey Bubby. Hey, should I get doritos, or -”

“Nevermind that! I have an important project. I need you to come with me.”

Dekkard raises an eyebrow, turning back to the machine. “Doritos it is.”

Bubby sighs. “Please. Look, this is very time sensitive, I only have until Zeki is done with her last meeting and I’ve already wasted ten minutes looking for you.”

Dekkard reaches into the machine for his bag of chips. “I mean, I’m supposed to be on lunch, but if this is to fuck with her, then I’ll help. Let’s go.”

“I saw your work in her office,” Bubby says as they walk back to Dekkard’s desk. “And I will admit, you did an excellent job.”

Dekkard beams. “Maybe I’m not so underqualified after all.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

Dekkard slips into his chair. Bubby’s too anxious to sit, instead pacing back and forth as he waits for the computer to boot up. “So, what am I helping you with?”

“Zeki made a proposal. I’m sure she intended it as a threat, but. I need a free room here in Biological Research. Something livable. No tubes or cages or any of that shit.”

Dekkard’s hands pause on the keyboard. He glances back at Bubby, who’s staring over his shoulder, leaning forward to watch. “Are you…moving in here?”

“Yes. Myself and one of the subjects, so make sure it’s big enough for two people.”

Dekkard spins in his chair. “One of the subjects?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” He folds his arms, standing up straight.

“I mean - pretty much every single subject here could kill you, so -”

“I used to be a subject here, if you’ll recall.” 

“Yeah, but - you’re not like them. You’re like, a person.” Dekkard sighs. “Is it the alien?”

“Their name is Benrey.”

“You named it?”

“We are wasting time,” Bubby snarls, stepping forward to grab the mouse from Dekkard’s hand. He holds it up, stretching the wire as far as it can go. 

“Hang on! Look, I’m willing to help, I just -”

“I don’t have time to argue with you! Either help me, or I will do this myself.” 

“Look, Bubby -”

“Dr. Bubby.”

“Dr. Bubby.” Dekkard groans, tipping his head back. “You’re the only tolerable person here, I don’t wanna help you get killed by an alien.”

“Well, luckily for you that’s not what you’re doing. Now are you going to help or not?”

“You’re really set on this, huh?”

It’s a lucky thing Bubby’s control over his pyrokinesis has grown, or Dekkard’s hair would be on fire. “Yes, I’m sure. I - they have them chained up. Like some kind of wild animal. They’re a child, Dekkard. Zeki made the mistake of offering this, and I’m not going to give her the chance to back down.”

Dekkard’s shoulders slump as he spins back to the computer. “I’m not gonna pretend like I understand, but fine. I’ll help.” Bubby takes a step away from the computer to give him a bit of space, not wanting to hover as Dekkard logs into the horribly designed official Black Mesa website. It takes him a minute to pull up a map, but once he does, he waves Bubby back over. “Okay, so. There’s a few empty areas, it looks like. I’m gonna toss these ones immediately -” and here he points to the screen at a cluster of small rooms - “because those are next to whatever the hell it is that screams all night. XEN - uh, Benrey?” He glances up at Bubby who nods approvingly. “Right. Benrey’s over here right now, and I think there’s actually an unused room pretty close? Big one, too.” 

“Just find me something and show me it. I don’t need your entire thought process.”

“Hey, I’m the one helping you.” Dekkard’s quiet after that, though, focusing more on the screen as Bubby paces back and forth, glancing at his pager every few minutes. “Okay, come here, I’ve got a list.”

This is the time-consuming part. Dekkard shows Bubby each of the rooms, laying out the size and shape and what they’re near, and then they spend a few moments debating the pros and cons. Bubby knows they’re on a timer, but his attention is elsewhere, and he does forget to check the time. 

His pager beeps.

“Oh, motherfucker,” he mutters. Zeki’s meeting must have ended, because she’s sent him a message.

Meet me in my office.

“We need to decide right now.”

“Shit, that her?”

“No, it was the president. Yes, it was her!”

Dekkard sighs, scooting his chair closer. “Okay, I know it’s a weird shape, but I think this one’s best. There’s a bathroom nearby and a sink in the room, which is good. Better than the dorms, even. And you can hang up a curtain or something over here and make it like a separate room.”

He’s gesturing at a vaguely L-shaped room close to the offices and break room. Bubby has seen it before. It’s been unused for ages, gathering dust, and will probably be a pain to clean. But Dekkard does have a point, and he’s out of time.

“Fine. Sure. Yes. What’s the room number?”

“B-22.”

“B-22,” Bubby repeats. “B like Bubby. Excellent. Alright, I’m off to go ruin Zeki’s day.”

Dekkard shoots him a grin and a finger gun. “Good working with you.”

“Also, don’t get the doritos. They’re stale.”

Dekkard looks at the bag on his desk. “God damnit. Asshole.”

[everything-withered]

Despite what other people might think, literature major Kurosaki Ichigo and law student Kuchiki Rukia were not dating . . . or were they? -- prompt: ichiruki through the eyes of nosy college classmates.

Okay. So. I tried to write them as students. But. They ended up being professors (in Ichigo's case) instead? Yikes. Outsider POV is really not my wheelhouse and I found it really hard to make college students care about each other's drama so I hope this is alright.

When classes have to be shifted online, students around the country who've witnessed their professors struggle with power point on a daily basis, collectively shudder.

But those under the tutelage of Professor Kurosaki are spared the dismay for his classes.

Professor Kurosaki Ichigo is not like other lecturers. He's young, he's good looking, and thank every god above, Professor Kurosaki is also good with technology.

With him, classes aren't all that different to real life lectures which is a relief, but some students bemoan the lack of his physical presence. Though that has less to do with the quality of education as much as it does the purveyor himself.

Professor Kurosaki has a bit of a reputation.

He's one of the youngest educators on campus, and practically inhuman given his meteoric rise to academic stardom especially since, as the rumors go, Professor Kurosaki isn't some prodigy, he's simply a workhorse who's too stubborn to quit.

It's a work ethic he pushes onto his students, and they shoulder it admirably.

Though, not for nothing.

Besides being the youngest professor, he also happens to be the most good looking, a feat that isn't just attributed to youth but also to pure magnetism. There's something very. Attractive. About Professor Kurosaki.

It's obvious even through a pixelated screen.

He's confident, but quiet about it. Serious, and sharp. He's always direct and doesn't dance around a topic, and he has a way of making you feel important when his attention is on you -- which is perhaps one of the best things about having lectures through a screen, it feels like you are.

Until, of course, you realize you aren't.

That day is today: pausing for a moment to take a sip of water, Professor Kurosaki glances just above the camera and smiles.

And the private group chat collectively loses its mind, and it spills out into the group chat accompanying the stream for the lecture itself.

Pausing to glance down at the screen again, Professor Kurosaki's eyes narrow, his expression shifting to his more familiar scowl as he dismissed the deluge of question marks (and some braver "What are you smiling at??") with "That's enough, you know better by now than to ask about my personal life."

Which is perhaps, the only caveat to Professor Kurosaki: him being intensely private that the only thing anyone in the student body knows about him that isn't shrouded in rumor is what's on his profile on the university website. The bare bones. The minimum. It's agonizing.

Not even the most advanced of internet stalkers among them can get anything more than that, and if not for an incredibly locked down Instagram account, they'd think their beloved professor simply appeared one day fully formed from the ether.

As it stands Professor Kurosaki is standing before the camera looking unimpressed, and the class' curiousity is punished with another load of essays due.

This doesn't stop the more persistent of the class from trying to gather intel from wherever they can get it: starting with what can be gleaned from Professor Kurosaki's home. While he usually shares his screen when he lectures, there's the in between moments when he's just sitting before the camera or pacing in front of it as he talks, or simply setting up or shutting down the stream. It's a goldmine of moments.

One person in the private group chat reports framed photographs on the shelf. The light always hits the glass so they can't make out the faces, but they're sure a later or earlier lecture could yield results if someone looks. It's on the left corner, is the instruction . If you've got a morning or late afternoon lecture, keep an eye out!

Another says, "I saw some kind of pet bed in the corner once too, when he was still setting up. Does Prof have a dog??"

Then, "I saw a lady's shoes on the ground when he was still setting up. Did you see them?? AM lecture yesterday??? Is Prof married???" which is followed by vehement denies because of course not and we would've noticed a ring by now and then, "women in the photographs are his sisters, maybe one of them is staying with him during quarantine?" And yes. Yes, that's feasible.

Except the next time, thanks to a student who'd read the time wrong and arrived too early to the stream, spends it listening to Professor Kurosaki set up for the lecture with the screen tilted onto the keys; they catch snatches of conversation between the professor and someone who very clearly isn't one of his sisters:

"You look tired."

"Thanks, that's exactly what a woman wants to hear," a female voice says, sarcastic and fond. And while there isn't much of a view, lacking in faces for one, the student can see the two bodies standing close enough to touch without actually doing any touching, a gravitational pull that's being resisted by sheer force of will. Then, voice softer than they've heard it ever, Professor Kurosaki tells her, "Go back to bed, the court documents can wait."

"My name's on the door," is the response that sounds like a whine which makes Professor Kurosaki chuckle. "It's Byakuya's too, he can sort it out. I'll make you breakfast when I'm done with class."

There's a sigh, dramatic and long suffering. "Promises, promises, Ichigo."

By then, there's more people in the stream logged in and listening, the private group chat is a mess of epic proportions: Professor Kurosaki has a woman in his life. He cooks her breakfast. She works with court documents, is she a lawyer? Who's Byakuya? We need answers people!

Whoever Byakuya is ends up being the key, though this is only realized later because the class is side tracked by the momentary affection on Professor Kurosaki's face, a tenderness so breathtaking no one says anything for awhile. Which is all well and good because Professor Kurosaki is not pleased with the direction of the conversation in the steam's chat. To the questions of "is that your wife?" He scowls and says, "That's none of your business."

And in his defense, it's not.

Until it is.

The quarantine is getting to everyone, Professor Kurosaki included. The woman doesn't appear again, though there have been reports of a woman's shoes in the background and a cardigan that looks too small to be Professor Kurosaki's, and if his class is disappointed, so must he. Except, "They must be in quarantine together...did they have a fight?"

Which thus begins the great advice giving of May 2020 wherein everyone throws in some casual dating wisdom about apologizing for whatever dumb thing you did, and how to compromise, and what to do to get out of the dog house and stop sleeping on your couch.

Professor Kurosaki must think it's some kind of late April fool's joke or something because he's kind of pissed about it for awhile.

Right until he forgets to end the stream, and few stragglers witness him resting his head on his arms and moaning as he mutters, "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

The audio picks up a growl, and Professor Kurosaki dismisses this with a, "I know, Kon, I know."

When he starts to bang his head on his desk, the students still on the stream start to worry, though thankfully the woman appears.

No one had really known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't her.

Where Professor Kurosaki has cut a famous figure in his jeans and a leather jacket, this woman is soft as a watercolour painting: she is a sunrise in a sweet, misty yellow sundress, what remains of the night sky clinging to her black hair and space blue eyes. Her voice is alarmed, but grounding, "Ichigo, what the hell?"

Professor Kurosaki is so startled he vaults up from his seat behind the desk, completely missing that the livestream is still on his screen. "What? No, I'm fine."

There's a scoff. "You've been acting weird for days, don't lie to me."

"Rukia..."

"Is this because of Saturday?" Is the question. "We were drunk, and ridiculous, and."

"Rukia -"

"Other people sleep together all the time" she says affecting a calm tone though there's a hint of desperation beneath it, "It doesn't have to mean anything."

The private group chat buzzes. The chat on the stream stays mercifully silent.

"We're not other people, at least not to each other," he finally says.

A sigh. "No, we're not."

Almost like a reflex, Professor Kurosaki absently reaches out to his laptop screen, and says quietly, just before they're all shut out, "And I want it to mean something so. What now, Rukia?"

The search for who Rukia is ends twenty minutes later: Kuchiki Rukia, lawyer, philanthropist and university alumni; she's the shining star of Sereitei's highest social circles, the only daughter of the Kuchiki family and the proud dog mom to a pitbull named Kon.

The intrigue continues.

By the time classes resume in person, Professor Kurosaki has revealed nothing. Rukia does not appear in the following streams.

There's a temptation to ask, but there's no doubt the professor will deny it.

Which is why when a student spots Rukia on campus, the group chat lights up.

A student still in Professor Kurosaki's lecture hall slows in packing away their things as Rukia enters, and it feels like Professor Kurosaki's entire class is holding their breathes.

Rukia and Professor Kurosaki, however, don't notice, and with an exchanged kiss in greeting as natural as a breath exhaled, the group chat lights up again.

The student is sufficiently embarrassed when, called forth by Professor Kurosaki about what they think they're doing, and show me your phone if it's nothing, then the last message insists: pics or it didn't happen!

Rukia laughs so hard, her happiness all but lights her up, and oh, the student can see how Professor Kurosaki could be in love. And from his expression to the one Rukia returns to him, amused and fond and tender in one, the student wonders why no one's seen it before at all.

[ronnie-azumane]

Kitten?

This is something I came up with at midnight while trying to complete my numerous missing assignments. I apologize in advance

Summary: Tsukishima Kei is a mod of a discord server And with his luck, he finds his first love on the server he runs. He falls head over heels, and vows to fulfill all her needs. However, not everything is what it seems.

Tsukishima was a simple man with simple likes. Granted, However, these likes weren’t as commonplace among his peers.

Sure, he moderated a Discord Server full of people of all ages. In said server, they would play games and talk about the various shows they watched together, some of which were considered children shows.

“Anyone catch the new episode of My Little Pony?” someone on the server would ask.

Tsukishima would bat in immediately, saying, “Remember the two-week spoiler warning, everything else must be covered and properly tagged.” He was the perfect mod, as he was both online all the time he didn’t have school or practice, as well as he was a stickler for the rules. Plus, he had only recently gained access to last week’s episode not long ago, therefore, he had not seen the new episode.

Another thing he liked to do on this server was talk to others on the voice call feature. He enjoyed talking to the many people who decided to join the server, even making a couple of friends, which he refused to believe for the longest time.

One of these many friends was a user that went by the name of gamergirl05. She was a peculiar person, only logging in late at night and logging out early in the morning, only to be away from her computer until late that night again.

She intrigued Tsukishima. Not only was she one of the only girls on the server, she always seemed to be on the voice chat. She never typed messages, never spoke, unless she was spoken to on the voice call. 

Her voice was soft and breathy, with a medium pitch. Her profile picture was a white cartoon cat against a pastel pink background. Sometimes, when playing videogames, you could here her grunt in frustration every once in a while.

Tsukishima couldn’t help from gaining a crush. 

She didn’t seem clingy, she seemed rather chill and independent, it was like God itself sent this woman into Tsukishima’s life. 

She was perfect.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but get excited whenever he saw that she was online. He would always join the voice call whenever he saw she was online.

They would have meaningful conversation. Tsukishima would learn much about her. She was living in Tokyo. She was a year older than Tsukishima; a second year in high school. She had been playing videogames for as long as she could remember. She has an overactive imagination, pretending that she was getting chased by dragons and facing checkpoints every time she walked to school in the morning. She wasn’t popular, but had a couple of close knit friends.

The more they talked, the more Tsukishima fell head over heels. However, the more he started to fall for her, the more he realized that he didn’t know how to express himself in a positive way. He was known as a negative nelly most of his life, with his relationship with the fellow members of the Karasuno volleyball club solidifying that feeling of disgust he felt toward others. Ever with his best friend Yamaguchi he was unable to show positive feelings toward, even though he didn’t feel anything negative toward his best friend.

Unknowing what to do, he looked up online ‘how to show someone you like them,’ only to come up with a website offering a free test to those wondering what their love language was. perfect.

Tsukishima took the test, answering each question as truthfully as he could, even asking his mom what she thought of him for one of the questions.

After thirty minutes of reading, understanding, and clicking, Tsukishima gat the result he was looking for- his love language.

His love language was gift-giving.

He knew exactly what to do at that point. 

Later that night, he stared at the voice call box, waiting for a certain someone to join the call. At 11:00pm on the dot, gamergirl05 joined the call. Tsukishima joined the call soon after.

“Um, hey, uh, how was your day?” Tsukishima asked her.

“My day? I guess it was okay,” she replied. Her voice was still light and breathy as usual. Not too high-pitched as to make Tsukishima believe that she was fake, and not to low to make her sound unattractive to him. The perfect voice for arguably the perfect human.

“Do you have Nitro by any chance?” Tsukishima asked her.

“No, I don’t see the benefit for paying for it myself,” she replied.

“If someone got it for you, would you use it?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“I-I Don’t mid gifting it to you, if you tell me your Venmo, Ill send the money right now!”

“Ok.” 

She read off a couple of letters and numbers, spelling out her Venmo for him to gift money to. Tsukishima used his mom’s credit card to send her over $50, with the unspoken promise of paying her back one day, even though she didn’t even know her youngest son stole her card.

They talked the rest of the night, until Tsukishima had to go to bed.

XxX

Tsukishima didn’t let up on his gifts to gamergirl05, or Cat as she started referring herself to. Anything she mentioned offhandedly form a new skin to a longing for a fast food meal, Tsukishima sent her the appropriate funds needed to retrieve that item. 

Each monetary gift he sent on Venmo was given a reply of the kissing face emoji.

Tsukishima was over the moon. Not only was he becoming better at volleyball every day after school, but he was also getting closer and closer to Cat. When he found out that he was going to Tokyo for a training camp, he excitedly went online that night to tell cat about how he was going to be in Tokyo and that maybe they could meet up.

“Sorry, but I have plans for that weekend,” Cat said. Tsukishima sighed, but figured as much. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

However, he picked himself up by the bootstraps and packed up his stuff to go to Tokyo for the training camp.

XxX

The weekend was tough. Karasuno faced loss after loss against the Tokyo powerhouse schools. However, the team had learned a lot about both themselves and their offensive and defensive power.

After a long weekend of training, all the guys were sore. All their muscles were aching and screaming, begging for some relief.  The coaches complied, supplying all the players with all the watermelon they could eat.

All the players gathered into groups, talking within each other’s friend groups. Tsukishima kept his distance from the others, with Yamaguchi joining in with them. They talked about various topics here and there, but nothing too serious.

Tsukishima was starting to zone out, thinking about Cat, and what she may or may not be doing. He hated to admit it, but he was head over heels in love, even though he had never seen Cat in a picture, much less in person.

While Tsukishima was zoning out, thinking of his unofficial lover, Hinata, Kenma, and Lev gathered nearby, talking loudly about who knows what. Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention, until the topic of discord came up. All his focus then went into listening in on this conversation.

“So you guys are on discord? What servers are you guys in?” Hinata asked.

“Not too many, I bet Kenma’s on a couple though,” Lev replied, only for Kenma to grunt in reply.

“Oh really! What servers are you on, Kenma?”

“Ehh, just a couple here and there. I frequent a My Little Pony server because a mod there gives me money a lot.”

Tsukishima felt a shock run throughout his body. A My Little Pony server? Maybe he was on the same server as him. He would never bring it up, but he was glad to know someone on the server; talking to 12-year-olds all day did get old.

“Wait, someone pays you to be on a My Little Pony server?” Lev asked.

“No, I think he is somehow attracted to me, every time I mention something I want, he sends me money.” Kenma replied, taking a massive bite out of his watermelon slice.

‘That’s kind of odd, who would give money like that to a guy like Kenma?’ Tsukishima thought.

“How did you do that, Kenma? I could sure use the extra cash,” Hinata asked.

“Well, Kuroo taught me to raise my voice like this to sound like some kind of gamer girl,” Kenma explained in a girly voice. Not too high to sound fake, not too low to sound unattractive. Perfect.

Just like Cat.

‘This has to be a coincidence, there’s no way that Kenma and Cat are the same person’ Tsukishima desperately thought. 

“Oh, do you guys want to be friends on Discord, so we can keep in contact?” Hinata asked.

“I guess. I’m gamergirl05#0000,” Kenma replied, essentially murdering Tsukishima with his response.

Tsukishima stood up from where he was sitting. Forgetting the fact that he was still supposed to be in a conversation with Yamaguchi, he left the area, trying to find a secluded area, eventually settling for a small ally in between two of the gyms.

Once making sure he couldn’t be seen, he let all his held-in emotions out. He screamed up to the sky as the threw his watermelon rind against the wall, watching it break into numerous pieces. 

“My Heart!” he screamed out, “I loved her!” He sank to the ground and let the tears flow. As he wailed out in despair, he covered his face with one hand while knocking his fist against the grass with his other.

Yamaguchi, who saw this all go down, ran up to go comfort his best friend. He didn’t know what was going on, other than the fact that his best friend was a mess on the floor.

How was Tsukishima going to tell his mom, who was already suspicious of him stealing her credit cards, that the money wasn’t being spent on her future Daughter in law? How was he going to log back in on the server, knowing he was cat fished?

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. All he knew at that moment was the soft an warm hand of Yamaguchi softly rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down.

[yoongsisbae]

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

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

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

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

Word count: 5.3k

---

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

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

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

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

Suga: take off your shirt

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

---

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

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

---

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

V: You’re so beautiful

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

“I-I can’t say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

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

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

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

Dammit.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

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

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

---

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

[groovybaybee]

Greener - II

Greener - I

(4.2k)

cw: mentions of abuse (not this chapter and nothing too intense but better safe than sorry) also alcohol consumption

There are moments in life that conjure up intense emotion any time you think about them. Happy or sad, whenever your mind flicks through its rolodex of memories and lands on it, you feel that moment come to life. You brain must have logged every detail of that time and packed it away in the back of your brain for you to stumble upon later down the road. Your mind takes you back to that moment and brings your senses along with it. My mother always reaches for these moments in times of strife, dipping her hand into a lucky dip of ‘happy places’ and allowing the sensation to wash over her. Her favourite is a family holiday to Spain, sipping ice-cold drinks as we swung our legs in the chilly waters of the pool below us.

 Not all the moments I remember are so positive, but I feel them just as strongly. Instead, I created my own ‘happy place’ to escape to whenever I felt overwhelmed.

 I stand, waist-deep, in warm water. Waves lap around me, hugging and kissing my naked skin as I breathe gently under the moonlight. The sky above me is clear and an audience of stars shine down on me. I bare my soul to the universe and feel love and appreciation in return. The night sky watches over me as I let my eyes close, leaning my head back, chin high. My shoulders relax more than they ever have as a warm but refreshing breeze wraps around me, hugging me tightly. I hear trees rustle somewhere behind me, whispering sweet sentences to one another as the sand beneath my feet reaches my ankles, anchoring me securely to the world, grounding and protecting me from floating away.

 I let my eyes open and I am back in my kitchen. No gentle breezes or salty air. Just my kitchen, with its colourful, mismatching crockery and photographs blu-tacked to the wall. However, there is a clear change in the room since the time I shut my eyes tightly, my chest feels looser, my throat no longer feels as though it is closing, and my breathing has slowed drastically.

 Raising my phone from my side, I return to the source of my sudden panic.

A news article, forwarded from my manager, Jim, a simple ‘Didn’t know you were dating’ preceded the link to the website. Of course, he was joking, not realising the stress I was about to feel.

 Quickly clicking the link, I remind myself to breathe deep and slow as I am redirected to a webpage.

 BACK ON THE HORSE? HARRY STYLES SPOTTED GETTING CLOSE WITH MYSTERY WOMAN

Hunky heartthrob, Harry Styles, caught canoodling outside hot Los Angeles restaurant, Spago. Despite reportedly having only split with model ex-girlfriend, Camille Rowe, a mere two months ago, the pop sensation was witnessed cosying up to a new woman.

 I am skim-reading at this point, desperate to get to the end with some shred of mental stability. My eyes land on the articles singular piece of ‘evidence’, a video taken from across the street. It begins with Harry and I talking and laughing outside the restaurant, follows us as we migrate closer to one another, my head thrown back in laughter before we are nearly pressed together. I had not realised quite how close we had gotten. The video ends when Harry and I are blocked from view, Harry’s car obstructing the camera’s line of sight. No one would be able to tell we did not kiss. My stomach squeezes uncomfortably as I read the video’s caption.

 Keep it in your pants guys!

 It is all a little dramatic. A small part of me wants to laugh at the way this has all been exaggerated and made into a big deal. That amusement fizzles as I continue to read the article, pausing after reading the final line.

 All this has us wondering, has Harry really moved on so quickly?

 Good question.

 Quickly replying to my manager, I send the words ‘Blind date’, before glancing at the comments beneath the article.

 Big mistake.

 Despite the article not naming me directly, not something I am shocked or offended by as Harry is clearly the more famous of the two of us, the comment section of the webpage has not mirrored the same unawareness. Almost every comment mentions me by name, the majority questioning how we even know each other.

 I allow myself to be sucked into the vortex of curiosity, taking in every opinion possible. Many of the replies to the news make it clear that they do not know who I am, and therefore that is reason enough for me to be nowhere near Harry. A lot of comments debate whether or not Harry has fully dealt with his breakup, suggesting that this was a PR move to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. I make the mistake of googling her.

 Well I don’t think the jealousy tactic is likely to be effective.

 She is stunning. A French model. Could I be more of a cliched parallel to her? I try not to compare the two of us, however, a few comments bring attention to the bloat of my stomach and it becomes very difficult not to feel vulnerable after that. It was a blind date. Harry and I were set up. That is the only reason he would ever look at me twice.

 But he wants to see me again.

 I cling to that thought and close the webpage on my phone, pocketing it and deciding fresh air is what I need. Stepping through the patio doors of my house, I peek out into the sunshine, letting the warm rays soak into me instantly. The small house is built on a hill, the garden demonstrating this the most as it is split into two grassy tiers. I walk up the concrete steps until I reach the patio furniture at the top. Sitting myself on one of the wooden chairs, I take a second to appreciate the view; the back of my house shaded by the incline of the hill which allows me to peer over the top of my roof and look out at the hills. As a kid, I had pictured living somewhere warm enough for palm trees, now I am able to watch them arc in the wind.

 I did this, and this is far more important than a few words. I am alive, I am good, and I am kind.

 Pressing my toes into the soft, cool grass beneath me, I slip my phone out of my pocket and compose a text.

 Sat in my garden and I reckon the view would be fun to paint, fancy it?

 The soft yellowy horizon gives me a sense of security as the evening creeps in. There is so much beauty in the world and I am glad I took the time to sit out here rather than obsessing over some meaningless gossip. It will all blow over and people will either forget about us or realise that we are not actually together. A small smirk tugs at my lips as I imagine pinning this on Lucy and using it as an excuse to get a free drink out of her.

 My phone vibrates twice against the wooden table.

 I love that idea. Tomorrow work? (I’ll bring wine) – Harry

 I cannot help but grin at the small screen, quickly typing a reply.

 4pm? Catch the last of the sun that way. Also you don’t have to keep signing off!

 Only a few seconds after placing my phone back down on the table, I have to pick it back up to read his latest message.

 Sounds perfect. It’s harder to stop than you’d think – Harry

 Giggling at him, I lock my phone and set it down, excitement pooling in the bottom of my stomach. This time tomorrow Harry will be sat beside me, paint-covered and maybe a little bit tipsy. I make a quick mental note to go shopping for food to line our stomachs, not wanting to let him be exposed to my drunken self just yet.

 I spend the next day getting my house presentable, or at least as tidy as possible despite the numerous large, brown boxes which clutter my living room. I also spend the day doing errands, shopping for food and drinks Harry might like (probably going a bit overboard and buying enough options for five people rather than two), and picking up some art supplies for the two of us.

 Once home, I unpack the groceries, setting some of them out on plates and dishes, making an attempt at a charcuterie board I had seen on Pinterest the night before. Setting up the area we would be spending the most time in, I move the two small canvases I purchased earlier outside, along with paints and brushes and cups of water for rinsing. It seems a little bit amateur, but I do not have time to dwell as Harry texts me that he is just leaving his house and will be here in half an hour.

 Dashing back inside, I take the speediest shower of my life just to freshen up and rinse the day away. Chastising myself for my lack of planning ahead, I smear on a touch of makeup and quickly style my hair. I am still pulling on a pair of dungarees, clipping the straps into place, when I open the front door.

 “Hi,” I greet breathlessly.

 Harry is already smiling when I meet his gaze, looking down at me with an infectious grin. I allow myself a second to drink him in. Obviously, he is dressed more casually than two days ago, dressed in a simple but figure-hugging black t-shirt, a golden chain peeking out from underneath. Alongside them, he is wearing a pair of brown, straight-leg corduroy trousers. He looks good. It should not surprise me, but it does anyway.

 “Hi,” he offers brightly.

 Stepping aside to let him enter, I try not to check him out, mentally telling myself that I am still not certain where he stands re us kissing each other’s faces off. Probably for the best to err on the side of caution.

 Closing the door behind him, I walk us through the living room and to the adjoining kitchen, feeling a tad embarrassed by my decorating style. Splashes of colour litter the house, the walls are mostly covered in photographs, interesting drawings and potted plants.

 “When did you move in?” Harry asks, noticing the stack of boxes. My heart pangs slightly at the question but I try not to let the dread within shine through.

 “Few months now, I’m just terrible at unpacking,” It is not a total lie, so I do not feel totally bad about it. There is, however, a small part of me that resents not being completely honest with him about why a certain box remains closed and sealed. “I might have gone overboard with snacks, so please eat anything you want,” I tell him when we reach the kitchen and he sees the spread I had laid out.

 Suddenly, it all feels like too much and heat prickles my cheeks in embarrassment as I watch Harry eye the full countertops. I had bought far too much and probably seem incredibly eager. Bread touched three types of meat, touched three types of cheese, touched olives, touched sundried tomatoes. There was another plate full of fruit, washed and sliced and displayed daintily in concentric circles. Then there was the bags of crisps, pretzels, biscuits, and chocolate buttons. This was enough for a family picnic, not a light grazing, and definitely too much for a second date. If that is even what I could call this.

 “This is amazing,” Harry utters quietly, and I almost do not hear him, my internal monologue reprimanding me so severely it almost overpowers him. He turns back towards me, gazing at me softly, his face a beautiful light pink. “Feel bad for contributing so little now,” he says, a gentle teasing lilt to his voice which makes me smile, a breathy and grateful laugh falling from my lips.

 “Trust me, your contribution is the most valuable,” I say, stretching up into a cupboard to grab two wine glasses.

 We manage to carry a disproportionate amount of food outside, giggling as we stacked our arms high until I could barely see over the top of my pile. Once outside, we settle on the wooden chairs and Harry pours us each a glass of merlot.

 “Matches your hair,” he muses, smirking as he hands the glass to me.

 “Never heard that one before,” I tease, trying to ignore the voice in my head questioning if he thinks the colour is ugly.

 Harry settles back in his chair, looking out across the hills and valleys before speaking again, “This was a good idea,”

 “Yeah, the view is the main reason I bought the house to be honest,” I mumble into my wine glass.

 There are a few moments of silence. It is not particularly uncomfortable, but I decide that we could use some music. I dash inside to grab a speaker and connect my phone to it.

 “Can I leave it up to you?” I ask, holding out my unlocked phone for him to take, “I’m indecisive.”

 He lets out a chuckle, muttering a soft, “Sure.”

 Taking the phone from my hand, our fingers brush momentarily, and I have to remind myself that I am not in the middle of a romcom. I feel my cheeks redden at the interaction and quickly turn to my canvas. Placing the wooden end of my paintbrush in my mouth as I scan over the paints in between the two of us. The soft opening notes of The Chain begin to play, mingling with the warm breeze that swirls lightly around the garden.

 “Listen to the wind blow,” I sing under my breath, unable to hold myself back.

 From the corner of my eye, I see Harry picking up his own brush, dipping into a little bit of blue paint and brushing across his own canvas. I dip my brush back into the yellowy orange colour I had been mixing and paint the outline of my house. It is messy and a little childlike, but I am having a good time. Harry and I both begin to relax as we paint, singing along, and doing embarrassingly enthusiastic seated dance moves when the guitar solo plays.

 “I love Fleetwood Mac so so much,” I admit gleefully, catching my breath as I giggle and take a sip of my wine.

 “Me too,” Harry replies, a bright smile pairing with beautifully pinkened cheeks.

 “What’s your favourite song?” I ask happily, popping a raspberry into my mouth.

 Harry pauses for a moment, lowering his brush and giving the question some good thought. He makes it impossible not to admire him, watching as his brows furrow ever so slightly, lips puckering temporarily as his brain ticks over.

 “I always come back to Songbird,” he tells me, looking up at me and nodding to himself. His eyes look so bright when they catch the light, reflecting into mine. I almost have to look away.

 “It’s a beautiful song,” I admit softly, my voice quieter than either of us had expected, suddenly nervous again to be in his presence and having a conversation which means so much to me.

 “What’s yours?” Harry asks, his gaze not wavering for even a second. He is undeniably intimidating, not even due to his status in the world, but simply being beside him feels as though I have won some sort of contest. There is something in his general being that makes me feel both small and powerful all at once. Simultaneously, I cannot believe that he is here in my garden when he could be anywhere else with anyone else, nor can I believe the way he is looking at me, observing me with such delicate looks that it appears he is afraid of scaring me away.

 “Storms,” I blurt out. Taking a second to collect my thoughts, I explain, “Skies the Limit is my go-to, but Storms made me feel when I felt numb.”

 Realising that I have most definitely overshared, I quickly dip my brush in the nearest colour and spread it across the top of my canvas, accidentally painting the sky pink.

 “I think that’s really special,” Harry utters softly, his gaze still on me as I pretend to be focused on my painting and not the spectacular man beside me, or the way his eyes feel on the side of my face. “I want to make music like that, you know?” he says, turning back to the view ahead of us and finishing off his own skyline.

 “I think you have,” I confess, feeling his eyes back on me in an instant. I force myself to turn to meet his gaze, urging some sense of bravery to course through my veins. When our eyes meet, he is looking at me like water in the desert, some sort of miracle before him that his brain does not fully believe. His mouth opens, pauses, then closes again. A second later, a smile pulls at his lips.

 “I like your pink sky,” he tells me, grinning brightly, not breaking away to look at the canvas in front of me.

 I laugh, “Started as a mistake but I think I prefer it like this,” I admit, pursing my lips as I take a long look at my painting.  

 “I like the way your mind works,” Harry says, smirking when I turn to him with knitted eyebrows, “I feel like you’re so bright and full of joy. Just walking through your house felt like I’ve known you years… I don’t know if that sounds mental.”

 He looks at me cautiously, afraid he has revealed too much, and maybe he has, but I enjoy it more than I could even tell him. I like his perception of me. No matter what happens, how much he comes to learn and dislike about me, at this moment he likes me. And, oh boy, do I like him.

 The thought of kissing him pops into my head, bold and illuminated in neon. I let it pass, determined not to ruin the moment. Instead, I look at him, and he looks right back. We share a brief period of peace, the sun on our faces with a light wind blowing between us.

 “Oh!” We both exclaim enthusiastically as What Makes You Think You’re the One plays on the shuffle. Smirking at our joint reaction, we turn back to our paintings.

 For the next hour or so we fully relax into our little world, grooving along as we paint. There is a real sense of calm throughout the space, even the birds in the trees seem to chirp softer, almost as though they were part of our garden party.

 The only moment in which there is a break in the bubble of tranquillity is when Harry desperately reaches for a strawberry, stopping himself whenever his hand, covered in a rainbow of paints, gets close. Impossible to tear my eyes away, I watch him for a moment, a delicate smirk on my lips as he attempts to approach the task from a multitude of angles. He lets out a small sigh and I decide that it is my duty to intervene.

 “Need a hand there?” I ask, failing to hold back a giggle as I pluck a strawberry from the plate with paint-free fingers.

 “Thanks. Can you-- You could… Thanks,” Harry stammers while I hesitate as I raise the fruit to his face, temporarily feeling awkward about feeding a man I barely know.

 I quickly get over myself and lift the berry to his lips, already somewhat parted. Taking the fruit into his mouth whole, his lips graze my fingertips ever so lightly. Our eyes lock the second it happens.

 Things start to move slowly. My hand lowers into my lap. Harry chews the fruit and swallows, his tongue poking out to catch a stray bead of juice that had escaped from his lips to the corner of his mouth.

 No way are you letting yourself be turned on by this. So cliché.

 Despite the mental chastisement, I find myself drawn to Harry. The need to feel his lips on my own is overwhelming me. Every second spent not knowing whether he is a good kisser feels like torture, my mind in agony.

 It appears that he feels the same way, gaze hesitating over my parted lips, hopefully not focusing on my clear breathlessness. Our bodies seem to be migrating towards one another, some unknown gravitational pull guiding our chests together until out faces are almost touching. I feel his breath on my cheek and quickly I worry that mine does not smell as good.

 Why did you eat that slice of manchego?

 Surely, he won’t want to kiss me anymore. He must not have noticed yet. But he will, and I will be humiliated. Better to stop now, while for some reason he actually is not appalled by the thought of kissing you. Why does he want to kiss me anyway? He could kiss anyone he wanted. He could have anyone he wanted. It is probably the wine.

 The wine has probably stained your teeth as well. God you’re a mess.

 I stop dead in my tracks. Swiftly, I pull away from him. It is harder than I had expected, his cologne sucking me in so that it feels like I have to stop breathing in order to separate from him.

 “Sorry,” I mumble.

 I cannot look at him. Unable to face the reality of the situation and see his bemused, beautiful face. I would only want to kiss him if I did look up at him, so instead I fidget with the hem of my sleeve, nails picking away at the firm stitching.

 “I’m sorry,” Harry says, his voice is so quiet that it hurts my heart to hear him so small and dejected, especially since I was the cause.

 We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. I can feel his gaze on me, soft and apologetic, but I am still unable to bring myself to make eye contact.

 “I’d be happy just being your friend,” I tell him.

 It is a lie. Partially, anyway. Of course, I would love to be his friend, but I also want to kiss him all over and have heart-to-hearts in the early hours of the morning. I want to hear about his first kiss, find out his favourite sweets and his happy place. I wonder if he is there now, desperately trying to escape the awkward bubble of tension surrounding us.

 “Yeah, I shouldn’t have assumed… I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

 “No,” I pipe up, a well of guilt forming in my stomach as I regard his sunken features, “It’s not you...”

 “It’s not you, it’s me?” Harry says with a quirk of a smile.

 I let out a breathy chuckle and we finally meet each other’s eyes and understand. It’s all alright.

 We keep painting. By the time the sun starts to set and the water for our brushes turns a murky grey, I have finished mine and sit teasing Harry as he adds the finishing touches to his own.

 “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Harry counters with a grin as he adds a sweep of dark red to his canvas.

 “Better be some painting,” I mutter into my wine glass.

 “Okay!” Harry exclaims excitedly, “She’s done. Ready for the reveal?”

 “Yes,” I laugh at his question, as if I have not been waiting to share for twenty minutes.

 Harry had insisted that our final products should be a surprise for the other, so for the last hour we painted in secrecy, occasionally peering out from behind our canvases to try and sneak a peek at the other’s.

 When we angle our paintings towards one another, the difference in our styles is clear. Mine is bright with exaggerated shapes, almost cartoonish. Meanwhile Harry’s painting is more true to life, a meta portrayal of the view, two little figures of him and me seen from behind at the bottom of the canvas.

 “I love it,” I tell him, the picture bringing a grin to my face as I observed the tiny version of myself; a little blob of shoulders and messy hair.

 “I’m calling it ‘Friendzone’.” he tells me, a wicked smirk on his lips.

 “Hey!” I whine with a gently nudge to his arm, however, the bout of laughter he has elicited really weakens my protest.

 Harry helps me clear up the garden before he leaves, carefully carrying his precious painting out with him. After bidding me a sweet goodnight, leaving no doubt in my mind that he had a nice time today, I finish cleaning up. As I am washing the two wine glasses, I peer over at my painting, smiling as I remembered Harry’s comments about my pink sky. Maybe being just his friend would be easy after all.

masterlist

[ryik-the-writer]

The Audacious Storybrooke Mirror Advice Columnist (Wednesday Paper Edition)

In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 2: Gold discovers he sent Lacey the email

This took way too long guys, sorry!

A03

                                                   *-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-*

When Mr. Augustine Gold opened his eyes he had a three-to-four second grace period before he remembered who he was and where he was before his body announced its condition.

And, as always after a night like last night, it started with a blinding, pounding headache, followed by a wave of nausea, and soon, the cold sweats.

Groaning pitifully, he pushed through the stars flashing before his eyes and slowly eased out of bed sideways, holding his head. The room was dark as a tomb, but he could see he was still wearing yesterday’s suit, abet a bit more rumpled. He’d even worn his shoes to bed.

He kicked them off, his body jolting in pain from the movement, and he felt for his cane, having to practically crawl across the floor to get it.

The little light that greeted him in the hallway felt like a snakebite to his senses, and he almost screamed when he cut on the bathroom light.

He turned on the cold water but could not bend over without his head killing him so he cupped his hands and splashed the cold water in his face.

His hands were shaking as he opened his medicine cabinet and crammed down two Alka-Seltzers, three aspirin and a Valium.

Now all he needed was an ice-cold beer and he might live.

He felt his way to the head of the stairs and wondered how the hell he was going to get down them in his state.

Then he heard Jefferson snoring from the living room and he immediately returned to the bathroom and drank water from the tap.

Now slightly stable, he removed his clothes, crawled into bed and jacked his electric blanket on high, quickly drifting off to sleep.

It was just after noon when he awoke again. Now his stomach was hot and burning, screaming for carbs. He quietly unlocked his door and made the careful trip into the living room.

Jefferson was gone, thank Gods, and Gold grabbed his phone and called in an order for two grilled cheese sandwiches, a large fries and, for the hell of it, a chocolate shake. He rolled his eyes when granny charged him double for delivery, obviously sensing his massive hangover and choosing to punish him from it.

He devoured the food in barely five minutes, feeling disgusted with himself for more than just his eating habits. He fell into such bad habits when he was falling off the deep end again, and boy had he fell.

It would be easy to blame it on Jefferson, his tacky business associate and friend on a good day.

Last night had not been a good day, but somehow still lead to Jefferson coming by for drinks as he tried to help him create an online portal for his tenants to pay their rent.

It would take out the need for him to run all over town on rent day, Jefferson had explained, and Gold half liked the idea of not having to soak his leg for a week straight, so he said fine.

The website was forgotten about as soon as the hat-making fiend found the good scotch, and frankly Gold couldn’t remember what he did after that.

His computer was still on in his study, Gold discovered when he wondered around his home, picking up the remnants of the night before. An unfolded blanket here, several crystal glasses there.

A blurry memory was tugging at his brain and demanding he sit at his desk.

He obeyed, only because his body still hadn’t recovered. The memory was becoming clearer. Jefferson’s chaotic laughter as Gold did … something. He was sending out an email to someone, and no doubt had received a response by now.

Gold rolled his eyes and waited for his email to load. No doubt he had sent a grueling message to the mayor, probably something immature that Jefferson had egged him to send.

He blinked and saw that he had no responses, so he went to his Sent emails. One look at the last one he sent and his stomach lurched harder than any amount of alcohol could warrant.

“No…no, no, no!” Gold panicked, her name alone heating him and draining him all at once.

Racy Lacey. Lacey French. His tenant and the target of his desires for well over three years now.

He dared read the contents of the email and started shouting. He was going to kill Jefferson and then himself!

He grabbed his cane and marched back to his room, throwing on his rumpled clothes back on. Damn a hangover.

He’d tear Jefferson’s head off first, he decided as he descended down the stairs.

Then he’d dip his entire body into a vat of acid and use his skeleton as a prop in his shop, he agreed as he opened the front door.

All thoughts left him when the piercing blue eyes he often dreamed about met his, and her curled up fist knocked him in the mouth.

“Whoa! Sorry!” Lacey apologized.

Gold rubbed his lip, staring at the girl that had his heart in a painful knot.

“Miss French,” he greeted, trying to lay on an air of sophistication despite his appearance. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Lacey gave him an incredulous look. She recognized a hangover anywhere, and this one, judging by the tint of green to his skin was pretty bad.

She managed to keep from laughing and remain serious. After all, she was here to figure out if he really meant in his email, among other things.

Cruella had suggested she “jump his bones” at a hastily set up breakfast between them the morning after she had gotten the email.

She hadn’t revealed the name of her current admirer, just the text of it.

It could have been Leroy Miner for all she cared.

“This one looks serious, darling,” her equally lewd co-work had pointed out as she snuck a dose of Kahlúa into her coffee. “If you don’t grab him, I will.”

Cruella would need a whole cabinet of the stuff if she knew her “admirer’s” true identity.

A look over at Mr. Gold didn’t quite turn her on. Mind you, the rumpled look was indeed alluring, and the shadow of facial hair and mused hair had its own appeal.

But she wasn’t her to gander at her landlord, she was here to set him straight and bury this whole thing, no matter how it ended.

She held up a printout of the email he had written and watched as his mightier-than-though look quickly faded.

“You’ve got quite the talent,” Lacey said. “Though it’s a bit Harlequinn for my taste.”

“Did you come all the way here to insult me,” Gold growled. The email may have been a drunken spur, but he had meant every word he said. He did find her attractive, but that didn’t mean he was going to let her say whatever she wanted to him.

“Not at all,” Lacey returned. “I just wanted to know … well … what are we going to do about this?”

If Gold had more courage—or at least if he were les sober than he was now—he would tell her exactly what he wanted to do about this blunder. However, he was hungover and still in his bathrobe of all things and far from confident.

“Nothing,” he said, grabbing the email from her. “Forget about it and have your rent on time this month.”

Before he could slam the door and push her out of her life, her heeled shoe divided his door and the glare in her striking blue eyes threatened to do the same to him.

“Are you bloody kidding me?” she hissed, a bit loud.

“Miss French, control yourself,” he warned, sure he heard one of his neighbors doors open.

“I am in complete control, you wanker,” she shouted. “You’re the one that caused all of this.”

Gold fought the flush creeping up his neck.

Lacey crumpled the email in her hand, sick of this nonsense already. “Whatever, like I’d want to be seen with the likes of you.”

Gold scoffed, solidifying his hurt. “Same to you, dearie, Gods only know what you have at this point.”

Lacey paused and stared at him, the blush on her cheeks from embarrassment.

Gold shut his mouth. Why the hell did he say that? He didn’t mean a word of it! Not to her, never to her.

Lacey turned on her heel before he could say anything, and he almost went after her, but there were spectators watching them from their porches, and he only had the courage to slink back into his living room.

Lacey clawed at her face as she stalked back to the office, Gold’s email still curled up in her hand. She wouldn’t cry over him. Lacey French did not cry over men, though she could occasionally get them to cry over her.

The Mirror was mostly empty due to the lunch hour and Lacey allowed herself to stew in anger without having to explain herself.

She was grateful for the hum of her old computer through the silence. It was a comfortable familiarity. Many people hated their day-to-day jobs or even just lasted long enough to get their paychecks and leave.

Lacey legit liked her job. She didn’t live to work by any means, but she loved her role in creating the little glorified newsletter they pushed out every other day, like that people read and liked what she wrote and came back for more each week.

She liked the admiration and the scrutiny in all forms it came as. It made her life an adventure.

And currently her adventure had reached a stalemate.

Mr. Gold was an obstacle she could cross easily, but Mayor Regina fucking Mills was not.

The woman controlled the town, and one word from her would get her cast out.

Lacey felt sick as she logged into her account and gazed over the subject lines of her email.

All of these were too delicious damn it! How the hell was she supposed to keep this clean!

She threw her head back with a groan. All of these were too delicious! She was finished if she didn’t have something in by Friday.

She turned her head onto her cheek, glaring at the crumpled up email she wished she had thrown at Mr. Gold’s head. She picked at the ball until it unfolded to reveal its contents.

She reread it again, ignoring the little twist in her belly at the words.

Gold had a way with them, she’d give him that. She was sure he had the ability to woo a few women once upon a time.

Lacey lifted her head and scanned over the note again, an idea coming to her.

Gold wrote her a mesmerizing, flattering letter. Sultry, yes, but a few tweaks could have fixed that.

She wondered, what other words did Mr. Gold have under his belt, and just how well could he use them?

[dailyaudiobible]

02/13/2021 DAB Transcript

Ex 35:10-36:38, Matt 27:32-66, Ps 34:1-10, Pr 9:7-8

Today is the 13th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's great to be here with you. It's a joy as we bring to a close another one of our weeks together. And they…they just kind of go by don’t they. And like hear we are, like middle of the second month of the year already. Here we are. And that’s just it…that’s just it. That’s how life goes, but it becomes really really apparent as we enter into the rhythm of the Scriptures and continue to absorb them day by day just to mark the time. Here we are the middle of February and it won't be long before we’re saying here we are in the middle of September. So, let's continue to buckle in. Let's continue to really invest our hearts into what the Scriptures are telling us because by the time we get to that time we’re…we’re like, “can you believe it is the middle of September?” We can be different people than we are right now. If we follow this path and we keep on this path day by day step-by-step and not just be hearers but be doers, yeah, by the time we’re saying, can you believe it’s the middle of September allot will have shifted in our lives. And, so, let’s dive in and take the next step for this week, which is the final step of this week. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible. Exodus chapter 35 verse 10 through 36 verse 38.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for another week to spend together in Your word. And Jesus, we have spent…spent a good portion of this week just…just being in Your last days telling the story of Your last days, Your arrest, the betrayal, the trial and now Your crucifixion, execution unjustly and Your burial. And we can often…we can often zoom to the end of the story. In fact, we do because it's too painful. It...it’s hard to contemplate what happened to You. It's hard to contemplate that it happened on our behalf. It humbles us but we want to move past that to the resurrection and it's important that we that we do but not before we sit with this, that You are our Savior. And we just…we’ve just gone through the whole book of Matthew watching Your ministry unfold, watching the way that You were simply calling the truth out from the shadows and how that riled things up so much, that this…this what we read today, this…this is happening and gives us such a stark glimpse of how dark things can get, of how dark things had gotten, about how dark things have gotten. And, so, we cling to You and we cling with hope. And Yes, we can turn the page, and yes, we can read of the resurrection. But it's important for us to stay here and wait for that as we sit with what it cost to let us be here, so freely reading Your word, and so freely interacting, so freely up moving around. And You died to make us free. And, so, Holy Spirit come. Show us how to meditate upon that today and sit with that we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

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And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

H DAB family this is Sonya in Austin TX and I'm just calling to…it's February 10th and Brian was talking about wisdom, listening, and taking that heartbeat minute to pause before you speak and my gosh, I wish I would've done that last night. My husband was trying to talk to me, and I opened my mouth and it just became ugly and it shouldn't have been ugly I should have kept my mouth quiet and actually listened. And instead made him feel bad about his job and situation and that of course wasn't my intent, but I seem to sabotage this when he tries to open up to me and I need to be quiet and I need to let wisdom speak. So, just pray for wisdom to enter into me sooner, to kick me, to…to staple my tongue down, be quiet and to listen to my husband in the future. And I do pray that you lift Michael up and help him to get a job where he'll be satisfied. He's working in a school cafeteria and just…he isn't happy and it's not where God wants him to be. And the people he works with are just…they are very nice people but they're not competent. And, so, he's doing three peoples’ jobs and then if something slips by then he's the manager so he's the one who gets in trouble. So, he's constantly having to go back in to do their jobs, simple things like counting and stuff because they're off on their numbers by a lot, not just like one or two, but by like 40. Again, nice people, but just…it's just very hard when you're basically doing everyone's job for them and then you take the blame. And I know there's a job out there that God has for him. So just please…

Hello this is sister Bridget from Northern California and I'm reaching out to my sister Hannah in New Zealand who called in asking for our prayers for her and her family as they grieve the loss of their dad who took his life. And I just want to say I'm so sorry sister Hannah and my heart…I know all our hearts are grieving with you all. And I want you to know that I am praying for you and I want to pray now for you and your family. Heavenly Father I thank You that You know us, You know the depths of our hearts and You…You know the depths of grief. And I want to thank You that You carried them Yourself. So interesting that we heard about You praying in the gardener Gethsemane before Your crucifixion, how You poured out Your heart and the grief and despair You experienced. Lord I thank You that You know that You…You enter in for us and I pray that Hannah and her family can be completely sustained by Your presence. Holy Spirit I ask for Your spirit of comfort and unity to bind them together. I pray that You would illuminate their darkness and help them to see…see Your presence and see You work wonders as You draw their hearts towards…

I am a stay-at-home mum to 3 little babies. The youngest ones nine months old and I'm married to a wonderful man who has who has a serious alcohol problem that's caused a lot of issues in our life, especially as of recently. And I'm just asking for prayer for how to deal with all of it and how to keep myself and keep my peace and how to help him as much as I can. I just need God to give me some peace about it and maybe start moving in his life because he's a good man and I'm not gonna leave him. He's not dangerous, he's just…he's got issues and I just need to know how to help him or I need God to help him. So, if you could pray for that it would mean a lot. Thank you.

Hello family this is Biola from Maryland and I hope you're all doing well. Brian and Jill God bless you. God bless your family and your ministry. Family I've been struck with so many prayer requests a lot of you are calling in and the weight of it all, you know. And I recall the scripture where Jesus was saying in this world you will have trouble but be of good cheer I have overcome the world beard. And...and, you know, sometimes it's it sounds so heavy and it's so witty and oh Lord Jesus I just bring everyone in the Daily Audio Bible family unto you oh God who is going through troubles and tribulations and trials and heaviness. And I just finished listening to you Greg and…and as you broke down and started, you know, asking for prayer and also crying I just…oh my goodness my heart was just gripped. Father Lord I pray that you would step into my brother’s situation oh God and intervene in the name of Jesus. Oh God I pray oh God Lord that you will show yourself strong on behalf of his family, that they will come to know you God Lord his wife oh God and his…his…his children oh God Lord his grandchildren they will come to know you as their Lord of passed down saviors. Hannah from New Zealand as a heard your prayer request too I was so burdened. Oh, father I pray oh God for my sister that you wrap your arms around her and her family members and that you will just heal them and comfort them oh God over the passing of their dad oh God Lord. And I pray for wisdom for them in this situation, that the fights will stop in the name of Jesus. Kingdom Seeker Daniel, I listened to your prayer request and I was just shaking my head and I'm like Oh my goodness. Oh, father Lord I arrest oh God every plan of the devil oh Lord of that family I cancel in the name of…

Good morning Daily Audio Bible community this is Diane Olive Braun an encourager one of many shalom shalom. I am adding my log to the campfire the Global Campfire and today this morning it is 5 minutes to 1:00 in the morning and I read…I listened and while Ezekiel and Ezekiel’s mama Jill together read the story of the betrayal of Jesus. And I'm still in the forgiveness area and how important it is and how hard it is. It must have been hard for Jesus to forgive all of those people that turned against him but if He's my example then I can look at how He had his Last Supper with Judas Iscariot and I think of Corrie Tenbaum, a story that helps me think about forgiveness when she met the…the Nazi soldier that was so mean to her and he stuck his hand out to shake her hand and by her own will she shook his hand and a power went through her hand and her arm…

Good morning my dear baby precious family this is Eyes of a Dove in Snoqualmie WA. It's been a while since I've called in, but I've been in the background listening and praying along with all of you. My dear little sister…oh…I can't remember your name but boy every morning I'm just praying for you. You called in about your mom with the drug addiction and she was blaming you out of her own guilt. You know, when we allow drugs into our lives it stops our brain from maturing and reasoning and our flesh, pride makes it very hard as adults and to turn back and say hey we made mistakes and we're making mistakes. And I want to tell you as a mom of four kids please let me be an example of your mom and tell you sweetie, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I've done drugs. I'm sorry that I am not loving myself the way God wants to love me and choosing not to do those drugs. I'm so sorry that I've hurt you. I’ve made you scared. I made you feel broken and I'm sorry that I haven't been that example of a mom that you need. And I'm going to get better. And Father we lift up this precious little girl’s mummy. Father I ask that You would just begin to bring new life into her, Father that You would make drugs horrible tasting and feeling in her body, that she would have the desire to remove those from her life and to live a God centered life. And Father I pray You humble her and have her come to her daughter at full repentance. Thank You. Thank You for putting her in a home with her auntie an uncle so she can flourish and grow. And just continue to love and grow her in the name of Jesus. Amen. I’m beside you young lady. Keep calling in…

[allmightyneed]

Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 2/20

link to part 1  

You pass weeks in a distracted, miserable state. Two, three, a month. Longer. At first, you chalk it up to the huge secret you now have to keep. A secret that feels as big as All Might himself. By a complete accident of time and place, you’ve come into possession of valuable intel on the most wanted criminal in Japan, possibly the world. Every day, you consider spilling the details to your best friend, who you also happen to work with. But how would you possibly bring it up?

“Oh, hey Kiko, guess what, I met a guy! Yeah… he’s super hot, tall, bit of a dark side. His name? I’m not sure, but professionally he goes by All Might.”

You can only imagine the confusion and disgust that would elicit. Even from Kiko, who usually tries to support your decisions, no matter how bad. The knowledge itself needles at you too, day after day. This information about his quirk could be the key to capturing him or bringing him down— forget using it to advance your own career. You could go to the police with this, you could go to Endeavor’s hero agency. You could change things. You could save lives. To your shame, that guilt isn’t strong enough to betray All Might’s confidence. He had trusted you. The number one villain trusted you with his secret identity, and apparently still does, because he hasn’t hunted you down and executed you. (Yet.)

Maybe he can’t. Your analytical mind spins theories in the absence of more definitive information. Maybe that muscle form takes a lot out of him, energy-wise. Maybe it’s too hard to maintain for long, and that’s why he sometimes disappears for days and weeks on end. And what about that whole coughing up blood thing?

By the third week, you’re using what little spare time you can find at work cobbling together a timeline of every documented All Might incident, closing in on a thousand entries in a hidden spreadsheet on your computer, and you’re only up to what most subject matter experts would consider the midway point of his active period. You haven’t found any patterns yet, nothing definitive, though as a foreigner yourself, his mysterious stint in America raises so many questions. 

“Hey!” A chipper voice and a knock-knock on your cubicle divider make you close the spreadsheet. You turn and see Kiko there, smiling and curious. 

“Hey!” 

“Whatcha working on?” 

“Oh, you know.” You wave your hand airily. “Nothing, really, just some busywork for Mr. Shimada.”

“Well, come on! It’s team lunch today.”

“Aw, really?”

“Yes. And you can’t skip. You’re looking too skinny.” That couldn’t be true, but the accusation reminds you of All Might, how he looked like he never got enough to eat. At least, one version of him. Kiko is sweet to be worried about you. She’s always so kind and considerate, always making sure you don’t bury yourself in your work, inviting you to lunch and for midday walks to get some sunlight. 

“Okay, okay. I’m not trying to get out of it.” You lock your computer screen and collect your jacket from the back of your chair. It will be nice to get a break outside of the office for sure. Given the sensitive nature of your work, your building is a secure one, with no windows and checkpoints to get in and out. Other than a few cultural holdouts, the workplace bears little resemblance to a traditional Japanese office, having adopted some more western practices, like cubicles and excessive use of PowerPoint. “Have you heard back from the Licensing Bureau?”

Kiko heaves a big sigh, which tells you that she hasn’t. “I thought I would last week at the latest, but nothing.”

You follow her into the elevator. “That’s weird. Don’t they usually send confirmation or denial pretty promptly?”

“Most petitioners receive the news right after their test.” She shrugs, throwing you a little smile as she precedes you into the lobby. “Guess I’m special.”

“Of course you are,” you laugh, rolling your eyes a little, but you mean it. She has pure hearted intentions about becoming a part-time volunteer hero. Discussion about the intricacies of Licensing Bureau policies and mailing schedules continues all the way to the barbecue restaurant where together you conclude, that her unusual quirk must be holding up their decision. It makes sense. Reanimation, her ability to create a zombie from a dead body, is dangerous and powerful, and is rightfully quite closely controlled. It’s also very much at odds with her sunny, happy personality. She rarely brings it up, but you know she regrets not having a more standard type of quirk. She’s also one of the few people who know about your quirk and has been a steadfast guardian of the secret.

Nothing much happens at the team lunch. Office gossip, rehashing the latest news, etc. Though, you do find out from Mr. Kawada, your supervisor, that you are one of two analysts who have been selected to support and consult on a new account the firm is taking on. So exclusive that you aren’t even allowed to know who the client is yet. You act grateful, mustering as much enthusiasm as you can— it’s a great opportunity— but inwardly, you’re daydreaming about All Might. That’s been happening more and more. 

When you get back to the office after lunch, you’re roped into a meeting with Mr. Kawada, and Mr. Shimada and the rest of the team leads. You know you should be paying attention but you zone out through most of it, replaying that fateful night in your head. 

A couple days later, the obsession reaches a critical level. You have to find him. Not as an analyst, not to bring him to justice. You just have to see him, and you don’t quite understand why, but it’s a need, a hunger that grows sharper and more potent each day. 

Riding the train to work, you start searching in your web browser. ‘All Might’. Too much noise. News articles from twenty different sources all about the same recent attacks clog the entire first page of results. When you get into the office, you go through the motions, sitting down at your workstation, logging in, all on autopilot. 

The only thing you can think about is All Might. As time has passed, you try harder and harder to keep fresh that image in your mind of how he looked in his other form. The skinny one, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He hadn’t been any less intense like that. 

You refine your searches, hitting wall after wall of no results or way too many. A passing coworker’s idol-themed lanyard catches your eye; you finally hit on an idea: ‘All Might fan club’. That gets you something. You navigate to the first result, an outdated page with a garish background and little animated pixel version of All Might in the corner of the screen. Dancing. you have to admit it’s kind of cute. Suddenly, loud sound plays through your computer’s speakers. 

“I am on a website! I am on a website!” It’s All Might’s voice— his villain voice, which has people in other cubicles peeking over the dividers at you to find the source of the noise. Panicking, you close the tab. Then, after making sure your computer’s volume is muted, you find your way back to that same page. Sure enough, there’s a link at the top titled I LOVE TO MEET MY FANS. Following it brings you to a listing of a mailing address and… yes. A phone number. 

Heart racing, you copy it down on a sticky note, tuck it in your purse and, before it can register in your mind as a bad idea, slip out of the office. 

The train back to your home stop is nearly empty in the middle of the day. A few tourists, old people, some kids playing hooky. 

You turn your phone over and over. It said he loves to meet his fans… what fans? Doesn’t everyone hate him? Maybe that’s how you should open the conversation. Hey Mr. All Might, I know you’re universally reviled but I thought I’d hit you up anyway. The idea makes you snort-laugh. No. Just keep it simple.

You: hi.

A few seconds later, during which you stare at your phone, the three ‘typing’ dots appear. Then go away, with no message coming through. Could this really be him? Or is it just some weirdo’s phone number? Some otaku impersonating All Might on the internet. Not like you are in any position to be accusing someone of obsession.

You: this is the girl you met in the alley. You pause for a second, thinking of how you could signal to him who you are. He might meet a lot of girls in alleys. 

You: I saw you shrink.

A moment later, he replies with your name. Shock hits you; you click the screen off, black then click it on again. Your name is still there.

Him: I tHOUT I told =you to standstill and bee silent. 

It’s him. With lots of typos, but it’s him.

Oh, god. What are you doing? 

You don’t reply again until you get inside your apartment. Standing just inside the front door, with your shoes still on, you write out three versions of a witty retort, and erase each one. Stupid. What are you even trying to get out of this? 

You: I think people deserve to know who you really are. 

Nothing. Nothing for an unbearable minute that feels like another week gone by.

You: I’m going to the media. 

You’re not. You don’t know why you just told him that.

The three dots appear and disappear, again, with no new text. You watch the screen for what seems like an eternity, still standing in your entryway with your purse on your shoulder. 

And then there’s a thundering knock on the door.

Link to part 3