#the uh. studio is on fire // crack

[sharieb]

Can I request headcanons where Lads men reacting to shy Non MC Reader giving him a love letter before dashing off like the wind please? - 🌕 anon

Signed, Shyly Yours

Pairing: LADs x shy! Non-MC reader

Genre: Fluff Writer's note: This one was really cute to write🥰🤭

You sneak the letter onto his clipboard just before his break, practically bouncing on your toes.

“I-uh-thank you-no wait- just- read it later! Bye!” you say, almost tripping as you dash away.

He’s left blinking. Holding the letter like it might detonate.

Did she just…?

He excuses himself to his office. Alone, silent, still.

He reads every word. Slowly. Twice.

You wrote about how safe he makes you feel. How you didn’t think someone as calm and brilliant as him would ever look your way.

Zayne stares at the letter, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling slightly as he reads every word slowly.

His throat tightens.

She sees me like that? But… I see her like that too. Every time she helps. Every time she smiles.

He presses the letter against his chest, eyes closed, as if trying to hold your feelings close.

Then he folds it neatly and puts it in the inner pocket of his coat.

When he sees you later, he tries to keep his cool but his voice wavers.“Thank you… for the words.”

He clears his throat, cheeks tinged pink, and softly adds, “They… made my day better. You always do.”

Later, he leaves a mug with your name, a little snow bunny figure made from his evol and a tiny note: “If you want to talk more… I’m here.”

You catch him watching you shyly from across the room, hands fiddling nervously with his coat.

You give it to him after his workshop ends, cheeks red as fire. “This is so dumb- no, just… just read it, please!”

And then you're sprinting off before he can say anything, nearly tripping on your way out, escaping his stunned gaze..

He stares after you, then down at the letter, his mouth slightly open, with his hand still outstretched holding the sealed envelope which he's now clutching as if it’s the most precious thing in the world... “...What just happened?”

Opens it right there, dead centre in the studio.

As he reads your words, your breathless, vulnerable admissions about how much colour he’s brought to your world, how dazzling he seems, he goes still. She... she wrote this for me? Me?

For once, he’s speechless. No witty remark. No dramatic flourish.

Just soft, stunned silence and a quiet, amazed smile that slowly lights up his entire face. “You beautiful, brave little thing,” he murmurs.

He’ll paint something that night. Inspired by your letter. By the way, your voice cracked when you fled.

A flower you love, every brushstroke infused with the warmth of your confession.

He also added little constellations in the background to reflect your presence in his world.

He keeps glancing at the letter between brushstrokes, rereading it with the sort of expression people wear when holding onto something too fragile to let go.

He’ll wait a day. Maybe two. Then corner you with the painting and say, grinning. “If I write one back, do I have to run too? Or are you the only one allowed to make dramatic exits now?”

When you blush fiercely, he laughs softly, the sound more tender than teasing, and gently squeezes your hand. “Next time,” he murmurs, voice low and warm, “stay a little longer. I want to hear you say it with that lovely voice of yours.”

During a lively friend group outing, you manage to slip Caleb the letter when no one is paying close attention.

His fingers brush yours for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“Just-um. Read it later, please,” you mumble, cheeks flushed, before darting away into the crowd.

Caleb blinks, momentarily frozen amidst the laughter and chatter, then stares at the letter like it’s glowing. She… wrote this? For me?

He tucks it into his jacket pocket, fingers lingering there, unable to stop smiling like an idiot.

He excused himself from the group just to open it in private, naturally.

Inside, your writing is slightly crooked, shaky, filled with nervous confessions about how long you’ve admired him, and how you never felt brave enough to say it.

His thumb lingers over his name written in your handwriting.

He reads the letter twice.

And then again. She likes me. She’s been watching me this whole time. And she ran

Later, as the group pauses near a café, he casually appears beside you with your favourite drink, softly saying, “I got your message.”

When you look up, he just shrugs, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You run fast… but I’m faster.”

The way he keeps stealing glances at you throughout the outing makes your heart do little flips.

One evening, you find your gear prepped perfectly, your notes reviewed, and a silent note scrawled across the top sheet: "Thanks for seeing me. I've been looking too."

It’s the kind of quiet promise that makes your heart race.

Over the next few days, Caleb finds little moments to be near you, offering a hand when you least expect it, lingering a little longer in your presence, his steady flame growing warmer in your orbit.

You leave the letter on his desk at the Hunters Association heart hammering, “For you. Just… when you have time.”

And then you practically all but teleport out of the U.N.I.C.O.N office area.

He blinks, surprised, then carefully opens it, cheeks tinting pink as he reads your trembling words. “She… wrote this for me?”

He thinks to himself, a shy smile spreading, his fingertips brushing the page like it might vanish if he isn’t gentle.

He reads it again, and again, expression softening with each pass. There's a rare sparkle in his eyes, like a new constellation has just appeared.

That night, he reprograms the starscape above his bed to match the night you met.

As soft light pools across the ceiling, he whispers your name to the stars like a promise, feeling a quiet joy bloom in his chest.

The next morning, a thermos of tea appears on your desk, warm and labelled in his neat handwriting: “For steady hands and shy hearts.”

When you visit him later at his apartment, you find your favourite blanket folded on his couch and a cup of tea waiting, with a sticky note reading: “I read it. I liked it. I like you.”

Xavier watches you from the kitchen, ears red to the tips, trying not to fidget with the sleeve of his jumper. “Would you stay a little longer today?” he asks, voice gentle, almost unsure.

When you sit beside him, he offers you a cushion and tucks the blanket around your legs, his fingers brushing yours.

“You don’t have to run anymore,” he murmurs, almost inaudibly. “Unless… you want me to chase you.”

And when you glance over, you find him smiling shyly into his tea, like he can’t quite believe you’re really there, but he hopes you’ll never leave.

You slide the letter into his hand while he’s distracted, and he nearly drops it in surprise. “Don’t open it until I’m gone.”

You whispered, voice trembling slightly, before disappearing like a ghost into the shadows of the base.

Sylus raises a brow, then cracks the seal with a teasing smirk that fades into wide-eyed shock.

He rereads your words three times, cheeks pink, caught off-guard by your honesty, a rare softness blooming behind his teasing eyes. “A secret admirer, huh?”

He murmurs, voice low and amused, but his ears betray him, tinged pink as he looks away briefly with a sparkle in his eye.

Later, when he finds you lounging around, he leans casually against a wall just to catch your attention, teasing, “Next time, give me a warning. I nearly died waiting.”

As you try to run when he moves closer, Sylus quickly uses his evol to catch you effortlessly, keeping you in place. "Ah, ah, ah. And where do you think you're going, Angel?"

He soon sat down on the couch you were lounging on just a moment ago, and then used his evol again to make you sit on his lap this time. “Tsk. What, you thought you could outrun me, doll? After dropping something that bold?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying how flustered you are in his arms.

When you blush and stumble over your words once again, he just grins wider and adds, “Don’t worry, I liked it. All of it. Especially how you ran.”

Then, quieter, as his gaze lingers on your lips. “If you wanted my attention… You already had it.”

That night, he finds himself rereading the letter under the dim light, fingers tracing your handwriting, smirking to himself as his heart flutters a little lighter and a little more tangled than before, in a way he never admits out loud.

The next day, a single black feather-shaped pin shows up clipped discreetly to your bag, a subtle mark that you’ve caught the attention of someone dangerous… and someone who’s always watching.

Over the following days, Sylus's usual cocky attitude softens around you; he finds himself more protective, more attentive, more... fond. Almost domestic, in his own mischievous way, as if your confession unlocked something unexpected in him.

You catch him waiting outside the rooms you’re in, intercepting anyone who seems to be bothering you, and occasionally offering you his coat with a smug. “You looked cold. Or maybe I just wanted an excuse.”

LADS dividers made by: @uzmacchiato

[amethystwrytes]

~We Can’t Be Friends~

🧊Pairing: Roommate!Seonghwa x Afab Reader 

🧊Summary: Seonghwa just wanted a roommate who was easy to live with, how could he predict that you’d be his complete undoing?

🧊Warnings: Explicit language, depiction of sex. Seonghwa is possessive if you squint. Barely even a smidge of plot, just completely me in my delusional feelings. Unbeta’d! 18+

A/N: Wasn’t really sure what to do with these thoughts I have about Park Seonghwa so I wrote this. Then I wasn’t sure what to do with it but I’ve had nearly an entire pot of coffee this morning, so now this is happening. Enjoy? Lol 

WC: 5k + some change

“What the Hell are you doing?” Mihee asks. You have a newspaper spread out over the table and you’re hunched over it, dragging your finger tip over the small letters looking for hope. She looks at you like your hair's on fire as she clutches her cocktail to her chest. 

“I told you, I need to find a new apartment,” you remind her. 

She pulls her phone out of her purse and taps the screen a few times, flipping it around toward you, “Let me introduce you to this thing called the internet.” 

“I’ve looked on all the rental sites,” you shake your head, “Everything is so damn expensive! I’m hoping maybe there’s some old soul who still advertises things in the newspaper who hasn’t been alerted yet that everything in this city has to cost five times the average fucking salary!” 

“Why are you moving again? Your apartment rocks.” 

“I’m moving out because I can’t live this way anymore. Gia is an absolute slob, it’s killing me. I clean before I leave for work, and then by the time I get home everything is a disaster. She leaves all her laundry just laying in front of the washer, even if it’s clean and dry she just shoves it all into her hamper and then takes out the wadded up, wrinkly clothes as she needs it. If I’m gone for a few days the trash is overflowing. The dishes are disgusting, she doesn’t even scrape or rinse! And don’t get me started on the bath-,” 

Mihee puts her hands up, “Okay, okay. I get it, let’s not have you burst a blood vessel okay?” she chuckles, “I told you when you moved in with her she gave off bad vibes. Why don’t you find a studio?” 

“Because I have stuff,” you whine, “I don’t want to have to pay out my ass for a glorified walk-in closet in addition to paying out my ass for a storage unit. I may as well just live in the storage unit,” you frown, then look up at her curiously, “You think there’s bathrooms at the storage places?” 

She snorts, “Maybe, but I’m sure they lock them up at night and there’s definitely no showers, you idiot. You’d be wiping yourself down with makeup wipes and peeing in jars,” she laughs and despite the situation, you crack your first smile of the night at the visual. 

“Who’s peeing in a jar?” Yeosang looks quite bewildered as he scoots into the booth next to you, his friend from work, Seonghwa sits opposite him. 

You heat with embarrassment a bit as Mihee explains to them both that if you don’t find a decently priced apartment you’re going to become the crazy storage unit lady who pees in jars and smells like micellar wipes. 

“Didn’t you say your roommate just moved out, Hwa?” Yeosang looks at his friend and your eyes dart up moving between the two of them. 

“Uh…” 

You don’t know Park Seonghwa as well as you know Yeosang. You know they’ve worked together for a few years. He sometimes tags along when your group of friends hangs out, or goes to dinner. He never says much, you assume because he doesn’t know anyone except Yeosang, but he has a nice smile and a calming disposition. He’s easy on the eyes too, something that you and Mihee noticed immediately when Yeosang first started bringing him around. 

Right now, at the hint of suggesting you become his new roommate, he looks as if he wishes a sinkhole would open up beneath his seat. Fair. The two of you may as well still be complete strangers. 

“Don’t put him on the spot like that,” you scold Yeosang, then look at him, “I don’t expect you to want to live with me,” you assure him. 

You go back to the advertisements in the paper while the rest of the group moves on to talking about how work went for everyone this week, how drunk they plan to get this evening etc. Eventually, after his third beer, Mihee is able to convince Yeosang to dance with her and the two of them leave you alone with Seonghwa. 

You’ve since crumpled up the paper and tossed it, and now you’re back to scrolling through overpriced apartments. If you plan it all just right, and the universe doesn’t try to screw you, then perhaps you can swing a deposit and rent and get a roommate before the next month hits…

“Do you pay rent on time?” 

You were so lost in thought that you nearly forgot that Seonghwa was at the table. 

“Pardon?” 

“I kicked my roommate out because he never paid his part of the rent on time. I’d pay the whole thing and then a few weeks later he’d give me a little cash here, a little there, but it was never enough to cover his side of the rent or the bills. So, do you pay on time?” he asks again. 

“Of course! I’m leaving my apartment because I’m the responsible one, she’s driving me insane and unfortunately it’s her name on the lease. So I don’t get to decide who stays or goes. My plan was to try and scrounge up enough for move-in fees and then find a roommate,” you look at him timidly, “but if you’re looking, and offering…” 

“I can show you the apartment tomorrow afternoon if you want, you can make a decision after you’ve seen the space,” he shrugs. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it. And you’re positive you’d be okay with me as a roommate?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I’ve never lived with a guy before, I mean, I’ve lived with boyfriends but not just, you know, a dude,” you say with a sheepish smile. 

“Same,” he nods then frowns, “I mean, not boyfriends, girlfriends…I mean I’ve lived with my ex girlfriend before but not ever just a female. Anyways,” he clears his throat, “As long as we pay our bills and clean up after ourselves I don’t think it should matter.” 

You smile and nod, “Agreed.” 

“Cheers then,” he reaches his beer glass over and strikes yours. 

“Cheers.” 

🔑🔑🔑🔑🔑

Seonghwa has made a terrible, terrible mistake. 

It’s been about two months since you moved in. At first, everything was perfect. You checked all of his roommate boxes. You were quiet, you were tidy, you were generous enough to share the food you cooked, and so far you were more than timely with your payments for rent and utilities. It was fantastic. Everything would have been absolutely perfect.

If it weren’t for those fucking pajamas. 

For a while the two of you were overly shy, overly cautious about what you were or weren’t wearing as you roamed about the house. In the mornings you’d come out in a fuzzy bathrobe to make your coffee and then silently slip back into your room, emerging a while later in whatever outfit you were wearing to work. 

As things got more comfortable though, more familiar, not as much of an effort was made to be discreet. Seonghwa doubts you did it on purpose, the first time he saw you in the pajamas you had overslept a little, morning coffee preparations were rushed and you weren’t really paying attention. 

Honestly, pajamas were too strong a description. Lingerie, basically, is what you had traipsed out in that morning. Little black shorts that were so small that part of your ass was visible at the bottom. A matching tank that was clearly meant to be comfortable for sleeping, but did absolutely nothing to hide the shape of your breasts or the fact that it was clearly a little too cold in the apartment. 

He had drooled. Literally. His morning tea spilling out of his mouth and onto his shirt, which he then had to change before heading to work. 

The next time he saw them it was late one night, his insomnia had made a reappearance and maybe you thought he was already asleep. You came out to get water from the refrigerator while he was watching a show. 

“Hey,” you’d said, walking over to the sofa, “Late night?” 

“Can’t sleep,” he’d responded, using every ounce of self control not to watch how your breasts pushed together, practically spilling out of your top, when you brought the bottle to your lips. 

“I hate when that happens,” you’d frowned sympathetically. A few drops of water had spilled down your chin and he watched as the droplets disappeared between your cleavage. Jesus Christ. 

“Well, try to get some rest,” you’d squeezed his shoulder from behind the couch, “goodnight.” 

Once you disappeared back into your room he’d shifted uncomfortably on the couch a bit, then finally gave up - turning the TV off and marching to his own room so he could touch himself while thinking of licking those stupid water drops from between your tits and sliding those fucking little shorts down your thighs. 

“Hello? Earth to Seonghwa??” 

Seonghwa looks up at Yeosang, sitting across from him in the break room. 

“What?” 

“I asked you how it’s working out with __,” he laughs, “Then you made a weird noise and spaced out. So, I guess it’s either going really well or really bad.” 

“It’s fine,” Seonghwa shrugs, taking a bite of his burger, “She’s a good roommate.” 

“How good?” Yeosang cracks a sly grin. 

“Don’t be absurd,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that.” 

“Mmm,” Yeosang chuckles, “you just kind of seem like you want it to be like that.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Right, anyway, are the two of you coming to the bar tonight?” 

“I am,” Seonghwa answers, “Obviously I don’t know if ___ plans to or not. I’m not her keeper.” 

He almost said boyfriend, I’m not her boyfriend, but stopped himself. That would just give more fuel to Yeosangs fire. 

🔑🔑🔑🔑🔑

“Hey, can you zip me up? I must have slept on my shoulder wrong last night and it hurts to reach back there,” you ask as you come into the living room, spinning around so your back faces Seonghwa. 

“Sure,” he pulls the zipper up slowly, then without really thinking about it presses his thumbs into your shoulders making little circles, “You okay?” 

“Uh,” you straighten up at his touch, “Yeah. It’s just stiff, nothing terrible. I’m fine.” 

“Do you want to drive or should we take the train?” he asks, taking a step back from you. 

“I don’t plan on drinking tonight, I want to get up early tomorrow and run some errands before everything gets busy, I’ll drive,” you answer. 

“Sounds good,” he says as you grab your keys and toss your purse over your shoulder. He pauses for a moment, “I really like your dress.” 

“Thanks,” you say as he walks past quietly, staring at his shoes. Well, that was weird. 

The bar is more crowded than usual because there’s a live band playing. The usual booth your group sits in is occupied, and the four of you huddle together around a high top trying to avoid the crowd to no avail. 

“Hi!” a man stumbles over to the table and smiles at you. His breath smells like a distillery mixed with cigarettes and you take a small step back. 

“Hi.” You reply flatly as Mihee stifles her laughter beneath her hand. You shoot her a look but the drunk guy seems to miss all of this. 

“Let me buy you a drink!” he shouts, though you’ve no idea why since he’s standing right on top of you practically. 

“I’m not drinking tonight, but thanks,” you say as politely as you can then shift your body away from him. 

“Come on, just one?” he continues with a ridiculous pout, and now Yeosang has joined Mihee in laughing at your situation. 

“I appreciate the offer, but no thank you,” you say again, the politeness is still there but you emphasize with a steely edge hoping to make your point. 

“Are you sure? Because the bartender makes a really great-,”

The drinks sitting on the table rattle as a fist comes down hard on the surface. 

“She said she doesn’t want a fucking drink.”

The entire group goes silent as you all turn to look at Seonghwa. Reserved, mild mannered Seonghwa, who never says more than a few sentences or politely laughs at Yeosangs bad jokes, suddenly looks as if he’s about a million miles tall and the expression he wears is terrifying. 

“Fine, sorry, didn’t realize she was your girl,”  the drunk man scoffs and starts to walk off, “fucking prick.” 

You feel Seonghwa start to move as if he’s about to chase the guy, but you press your hand against his chest to stop him. You look up into his dark eyes and silently tell him that he’s done enough, the man is gone. His gaze grows softer and he seems to collect himself enough to realize he’s just done something quite out of character. The rest of the table still stares in near disbelief. 

“What?” he snips at them, “No means No the first fucking time,” he points out, then gulps down a generous amount of his drink. 

You feel strange. You’re partially embarrassed for yourself, embarrassed that he needed to step in on your behalf because evidently you can’t seem to make yourself heard. Partially curious because why did he feel the need to protect you? The others were just giggling, and you know if push had come to shove everyone standing at the table would have come to your defense if needed, but Seonghwa seemed to be genuinely livid, and it didn’t seem to take much to get him there. 

“Okay spill it,” Mihee slams the bathroom door shut behind her. 

“What? Spill what?” 

“Uhm,” she gestures out toward the bar, “Spill why Hottie-With-a-Body Park Seonghwa nearly just flattened some rando at a bar for you?” 

“I don’t know what that was,” you admit, “Seriously. What the fuck was that?” 

Mihee looks disappointed, “So…there’s nothing going on between the two of you since you moved in with him?” 

“No!” you screech, “He barely speaks to me. I know just about as much about him now as I did when I moved in, with the exception of what soap he uses and his cologne of choice,” you explain. 

“What cologne does he use? Just…you know…out of curiosity,” Mihee side eyes you. 

“Black Opium,” you answer with an eye roll. 

“Fucking knew it, expensive bitch,” she clicks her teeth. 

“I’ve no idea why he intervened like that,” you shake your head.

“Ugh, don’t do that,” Mihee groans. 

“Don’t do what?” 

“Don’t act like you’re oblivious when it’s clearly because he wants you,” she elaborates, “It’s bad enough that Yeosangs hot friend - that we’ve been thirsting over for forever - is attracted to you, please don’t make me paint the fucking picture too,” she pouts. 

“Please,” you scoff, “You can’t know that’s true. It is possible that he was just being nice.” 

“Uh, the man nearly went feral,” she cackles, “Nice would have been letting you handle it, or maybe saying something minor like ‘hey man, she said no, chill out’ which is more of what I’d expect from a man who’s uttered maybe sixteen words the entire time I’ve known him. But no, he was ready to throw down.” 

You consider this a moment, but no. You have a good thing going with Seonghwa, physical attraction would put a very awkward dent in that. Probably. You can lie to Mihee if you want, but you can’t lie to yourself - you’ve spent plenty of late nights making up alternate realities in your head which always end with him sneaking into your room and…well. 

“Well what should I do then?” you wonder. 

“Do you really want me to answer that? Because I can give you a very detailed, very naughty set of instructions if you’d like. I mean, you could not script a better Oh My God, They Were Roommates moment if you tried,” she laughs. 

“That’s not helpful,” you can’t help but laugh, “This isn’t a meme. This is real life. With a very nice apartment that I can afford - so long as he continues living there too.” 

“Sorry, does it say somewhere in the lease that you can’t have sex with your hot roommate?” 

“I’d have to reread it,” you quip. 

“Do you like him?” she asks seriously. 

“I don’t know?” Lie. Total lie. “Look, the man is a total smoke show, I knew this going into it, but, I don’t know if I want to like him, because if I do and something happens then what? We’re stuck in an apartment together until one of us retreats.” 

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you but if I were you I’d drag him home right now and ask him to bang me with that look he had on his face earlier when he was about to punch that guy.” 

“My God, you really need to get laid,” you shake your head at her. “I can flag that man down, I’m sure he’d buy you a drink,” you tease. 

“Bitch, I will fight you, go, get out of here,” the two of you giggle as she pushes you out of the bathroom. 

🔑🔑🔑🔑🔑

The car ride home is silent but very charged. Seonghwa says nothing about the evening, or about the drunk guy who offered you a drink, or even a comment on the foggy weather. He remains silent as the two of you walk into the apartment, and it seems as though he means to go straight to his room when you decide you don’t like the silence anymore. 

“Thank you, by the way,” you tell him from across the room, “For getting rid of the drunk guy. I didn’t say thank you so…” 

“You don’t need to say thank you,” he faces you and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

“Well still, thanks,” you clear your throat, “I was wondering though…” you trail off, unsure of what to ask or if you even want to say anything at all. 

He stands for a few seconds, “Wondering what?” 

“I guess, I was just wondering why you did it?” you shrug. 

“I did it because it was the right thing to do, he clearly wasn’t backing off.” 

“You just looked…” Angry. Sexy. Hot as Hell. Livid. Murderous. Delectable. “You looked like you were really pissed, I guess I just didn’t realize that you cared.” 

You wait, and there’s a few times where he opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but eventually the silence becomes awkward and you shrug it away. 

“Anyway, like I said, thank you. I don’t think he meant any harm, but it was really annoying and I appreciate you stepping in,” you smile then turn tail to head to your room. 

“I didn’t like it!” he hollers at you and you spin around again. “Okay? And not just because he wouldn’t shut up, that was cringy as hell, but I didn’t like that he even tried to talk to you. I didn’t like that he even looked at you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Fucking pajamas…” he mutters under his breath and rubs his eyes in frustration. 

“What?” 

He holds up his finger as he storms past you, disappearing straight into your bedroom. You stand there, completely confused, until he emerges a few minutes later and tosses a pair of your black pajamas at you. 

“Did you…” you wad the items up in your hands, face hot, “Did you just get these out of my dirty hamper?” you squeak. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods erratically like a crazy person and points to your hands, “Those. Those have been the bane of my existence lately.” 

“I…don’t…” 

“Do you know how you look in these? Do you? Because I do. I know how you look in these and it drives me up the wall.” 

You don’t know whether to laugh or faint. 

“I’m…sorry?” you giggle, quickly covering your mouth with the balled up fabric. 

“Is it funny?” he asks, but you see the smile ghosting his pillowy lips. 

“A little, yeah,” you press your lips together. “I won’t wear them anymore, promise.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he narrows his eyes, “Too late for that. I want them to be the only thing you wear, like ever,” he laughs. 

“That’s a pretty steep request,” you pretend to study the pajamas, “What do I get if I wear these 24/7?” 

“Anything. I’ll do whatever you want me to do if you go put those on right this minute,” he pleads. 

“They need washed!” you laugh, “You just pulled them out of my hamper!” 

“How about nothing then?” he suggests, his smile fades a bit, his fingertips tracing the strap of the dress you’re wearing. 

“That’s an option,” you press your lips together and smile, “but should we do that? Because once we do there’s no going back.” 

“I don’t want to be friends with you,” he says softly, almost pleading, “I can’t. And I don’t want to just be your roommate, because eventually you’re going to bring some guy home and I’m going to fucking hate it.” 

“If you felt like that, why didn’t you say anything?” you wonder, allowing him to cage you against the wall. 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or send you running,” he smiles, “You’re a very good roommate, apart from making me hard every time you walk into a room.” 

“Every time?” you tease, you let your hands find his waist, tracing the top of his belt then finally dipping down just a tad. You nearly gasp when the back of your fingers trace over the hard length straining against the fabric but you hold it in. “Guess so.” 

“Tell me you want me too,” he whispers near your ear, his nose nuzzling in your hair. Despite not having a drop of alcohol all night, suddenly you feel intoxicated. 

“I…” 

His soft lips start ghosting kisses on your cheek, your jaw line, inching closer and closer to their target and rendering you unable to think. 

Fuck it. 

You turn your head just slightly upward, catching his lips with yours. You can feel the goosebumps spreading down your shoulders and arms as he sighs with relief, becoming more relaxed as he pushes his body into yours. His lips roll against yours, and you allow your hands to roam up and over his chest, then his shoulders, until they find a grip in his long, messy black hair. You tug just slightly and a moan escapes him, dissolving into the kiss. His tongue, warm and wet, slides across your bottom lip and you meet it with your own; he presses you harder against the wall. 

You have to pull away for air, and you press gentle kisses into the side of his throat, “Get me out of this dress,” you whisper. 

He makes a gutteral noise as his hands fall beneath your ass and he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his hips - it’s a good fit, you can’t help but notice. 

“Would you be more comfortable in your bed, or mine?” he manages to ask. 

“I’d be more comfortable if we were both naked,” you smile, “Doesn’t matter whose bed we’re in.” You capture his mouth again and suck his lower lip between your teeth, nipping at him, in hopes he’ll decide where he’s going to fuck you already. 

“Fuck.”

He kicks his bedroom door open and walks you to the edge of his bed where he unzips the dress. You allow it to fall in a pool at your ankles, then begin reaching for the hooks of your strapless. 

“Let me,” he quickly replaces your fingers with his, “Your shoulder, remember?” 

You could literally die of the sweetness, but thankfully all it seems to do is trigger more arousal to pool in your underwear. 

The bra slides down the side of the bed and meets your dress on the floor. 

He pulls his shirt off and drops to his knees beside the bed, between your legs, “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your lips, down your neck and then between your breasts. 

“What now? Now that you have me naked in here,” you grin, pulling his lips to yours. He kisses you so slow and sweet, you feel like you’re on fire waiting for him to put you out. 

“Can you wait here, just a minute?” 

You nod. 

You watch as he leaves the room, disappearing into the kitchen. A cupboard door opens and shuts, and you hear the ice maker dispensing cubes into a glass. Is he thirsty?

A few moments later he strides back into the room, his jeans unbuttoned, belt hanging loosely, the band of his dark boxers contrasting the light wash denim. He looks good enough to eat. You’re so enamored with his bare stomach you almost don’t notice the wine glass filled about halfway with ice cubes, nothing else in the glass. 

You raise a questioning brow. 

“Humor me,” he smiles warmly, taking back his position on the floor between your legs. “I’ve thought about this moment for a while.” 

He sucks an ice cube into his mouth, letting it melt just a little, then spits it out and presses it against your chest, dragging it back and forth. You shiver, the freezing liquid drips down over your breasts, onto your stomach. He seems enthralled and enamored by the dripping lines as he licks his lips.

He leans in, his tongue a distinctly warm shock against your skin. He licks and laps at the melted ice, taking care to devour every drop. He spends a great deal of time on each nipple and you rock back and forth on the edge of his bed, moaning and gasping, wondering if his plan is to make you come just by sucking and licking your tits. If so, he’s certainly making great headway. 

“Can I?” his voice is a desperate rasp as he tugs at the string of your underwear with his fingertips. 

Again you nod, and shift around so he can more easily slide them down your legs. Your heart pounds as he gently pushes your knees open, a piece of ice between his lips. He leans forward and you jump at the cold against your inner thigh. 

“So pretty…” he whispers, his thumb tracing gentle circles around your clit. 

“You’re pretty,” you manage to rasp out while writhing on the bedsheets. 

He chuckles, “Yeah?” his mouth is so close to your cunt that you can feel his breath against your slick as he speaks, “You think I’m pretty baby?” 

You nod frantically, biting down on your lip. 

He kisses you sloppily everywhere but where you need him to.

“So…”

Kiss.

“If you thought…”

Kiss.

“I was so pretty…”

Kiss.

“Why didn’t you…”

Kiss. 

“Say anything?” 

You’re practically unraveling, but manage to answer him, “Same as you. I didn’t want to make things awkward or weird, I like living here, with you.” 

“We do have a good thing going,” he pauses his actions for a moment, to your disappointment, “but I really, really need to taste this pussy, otherwise I’m going to combust.” 

He smiles a bit, but before you can reply, his tongue is on you and your mouth drops open. He looks you square in the eyes the entire time, he’s one of those, and you watch him, captivated, as his tongue laps and dips, his head sometimes rocking back and forth as he completely undoes you. 

“Wait, wait please,” you beg, dragging yourself up the mattress a bit. 

“What baby?” he reluctantly pulls away, breathless, and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. 

“I…” suddenly you feel shy. 

“What? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” he inches closer and kisses your lips gently, you can taste yourself. 

“I want you to be inside me when I…you know…” 

He grins and nods, then crawls over to his nightstand, plucking a condom from the drawer and hands it to you. 

“I’m yours,” he stands and holds his arms out, “Do whatever you want with me baby.” 

You hook your fingers in what remains of his clothing and pull it off of him in one go. His cock springs up, practically in front of your mouth, and you can’t help but take it, popping your lips off the tip and stroking him a few times for good measure. 

His head rears back and he shudders, “If you don’t want me to blow my load all over your face, then I’d stop doing that baby girl,” he warns. 

Heard. 

You tear the wrapper open and pinch the tip, slowly rolling it down his length. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

“As comfy as one can be in a condom, yes,” he smiles down at you and drags his thumb across your bottom lip. “How do you want me to fuck you?” 

You hoist yourself onto your knees and crawl to the middle of his bed, patting the mattress so he sits upright, propped against his pillows. Then you straddle his lap, the tip of his cock throbbing against your open cunt. 

“I want to ride you,” you whisper, brushing pieces of hair off his forehead and smoothing it all back out of his beautiful face.

“Perfect,” he smiles, his hands falling to gently grip your hips as you reach between your legs and line him up with your opening. 

“Ready?” you ask, teasing the head of his cock, he throws his head back with a heady chuckle. 

“Please,” he nods. 

You sink down slowly, stopping when he’s buried to the hilt. He hisses, his grip on your hips tightens, which encourages you to move again, and again, and again.

Eventually you figure each other out, find a mutual pace, a shared rhythm. He seems to like it when his cock is deep inside you and you grind; which works just fine because you love it too. Leaning forward slightly and giving some extra bounce nearly undoes him, and you find that it’s the perfect angle, hits just right. You go faster, harder, because now you have to chase it…so close, you’re so fucking close. 

It’s not until you cry out, eyes screwed shut and body stiff as your pleasure hits in waves that he moves. He pushes you over so you land on your back with a soft thud and like lightening, he’s between your legs, wrapping your thighs around him and burying himself in your cunt over and over until he freezes, breath shaky, and you feel his cock twitching inside you. 

You both pant for a few moments as he runs his fingers through your hair, occasionally kissing you between breaths. Finally he collapses beside you in a pile of exhausted gorgeousness. You just lay on your back and stare. 

Eventually when his breathing returns to normal he opens one eye and looks over, “What?” 

You shake your head with a giddy chuckle, “That just happened.” 

“Mmhmm,” he pulls you into him and squeezes, “And it’s going to happen again, and again. Oh, that reminds me,” he hops up and pulls his boxers back on. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To do your laundry,” he grins, “You have a pajama set that needs cleaned, we’ve got all weekend for you to wear it.”

The End.

[minhohaze]

Can you do zoey x reader like they were a bit too loud and the girls heard them and now they are teasing them every chance they get, like example rumi and reader come home together and zoey and mira tease them how it took them longer to get home even tho they went to the store for some groceries and rumi gets all shy while reader is chill and sometimes comments back things like "you wish that was you" or smth like that ...

Absolutely, here is your meal

────────── ⚘ ──────────

“Thin Walls, Big Mouths”

Zoey x Reader | Fluff, Teasing, Dorm Life, Banter |

────────── ⚘ ──────────

There were thin walls.

And then there were Huntrix dorm walls.

You’d swear a whisper could travel from the laundry room to the kitchen. Privacy wasn’t a suggestion in this place — it was a fantasy.

And yet, that didn’t stop you and Zoey.

It had started innocently. A late night. A shared snack. A little cuddling. Kisses that lingered.

And then…

Well. Things got louder.

Way louder.

The next morning?

Zoey emerged from her room in your hoodie, looking like she hadn’t slept a second. Her hair was a mess, her lips were bitten pink, and her hand clung to yours like a lifeline.

You walked into the kitchen like it was any other day.

Rumi and Mira were waiting.

Both already seated, sipping their drinks like something out of a mafia movie.

“So,” Mira said, perfectly casual. “You two had fun last night?”

Zoey froze.

You just gave her a lazy grin and grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

“Sure did. Didn’t know our walls had a fan club.”

“A whole stadium, actually,” Rumi added, not missing a beat. “I think Zoey hit the high note around 2:37 a.m.”

Zoey made a sound like a dying animal and tried to retreat behind you. You wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned against the counter like you owned the room.

“Must’ve been her favorite part.”

Mira almost choked on her drink. Rumi blinked slowly.

Zoey? Fully ready to evaporate.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The teasing was relentless from that moment on.

Day Two.

You were stretching in the living room when Mira passed by and said, “Should we start putting up a warning sign outside Zoey’s room?”

“Why?” Zoey asked, sipping from her water bottle.

“Because the last time she was in there with Y/N, I thought the drywall cracked.”

Zoey coughed so hard she nearly dropped the bottle.

You grinned from the floor.

“Can’t help it if she’s passionate.”

“More like aggressive,” Rumi chimed in from the kitchen. “I thought Y/N was killing her. In a hot way.”

Zoey squealed and pulled her hoodie over her face.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Day Three.

Mira put on music in the living room.

Loud, sultry, bass-heavy.

“New routine?” you asked casually, flopping onto the couch.

“Nah,” Mira replied. “Just thought I’d match the rhythm from last Tuesday night.”

Zoey, who had just walked in with her hair still damp from the shower, turned bright red.

You rested your head on her shoulder.

“Want me to help you recreate it?”

She smacked you with a throw pillow.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Day Four.

You and Zoey came home from a snack run — nothing suspicious.

But the moment you stepped inside, Mira looked up from the couch.

“Took you long enough,” she said, feigning casual concern. “Let me guess. Zoey tripped into a wall and moaned again?”

Zoey choked. “It was just a grocery run!”

Rumi walked in, eyeing the time on her phone. “Uh huh. Did the chips flirt back?”

You slid past them and dropped the bag of snacks on the counter.

“She flirted harder.”

Zoey let out a muffled groan and walked straight into her room.

Mira watched her go and turned to you. “You know, for a rapper, she sure whimpers like a soprano.”

“She sings best under pressure,” you fired back with a wink.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Day Five.

The teasing continued even during rehearsals.

You were visiting the studio, leaning against the mirrored wall, watching as Mira demonstrated part of a new routine.

After the beat dropped, Mira paused dramatically, then turned to Zoey.

“Is this tempo fast enough for your taste? Or should we match Y/N’s rhythm instead?”

Zoey’s mouth dropped open. “Why are you like this?”

Rumi walked in with two water bottles and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s got a point. That tempo was... familiar.”

Zoey nearly combusted. You crossed your arms and shrugged.

“You remember the tempo?”

Rumi blinked. “Can’t forget it.”

Mira added, “Scarred into my soul. Burned into my bones.”

Zoey curled up in the nearest beanbag.

You walked over and sat beside her, throwing your arm over her shoulder.

“I think we’ve officially made history.”

“I want to die,” Zoey mumbled.

You kissed her forehead.

“You’re perfect.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Day Six.

That night, Zoey curled into you in bed, cheeks still red from Mira’s earlier comment about putting a rating system on your room.

“They’re never gonna shut up about it,” she muttered, nose against your collarbone.

“Good. Means it was memorable.”

She groaned.

You tilted her chin up gently.

“You weren’t just hot, Zo. You were...everything. And I loved hearing you. Every second of it.”

Her face softened instantly. Her eyes flicked to your lips, and she kissed you — soft, slow, grounding.

“You’re dangerous,” she whispered.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“You make it hard to be embarrassed.”

“That’s the point.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Day Seven. Acceptance.

You were lying on the couch when Zoey sat on your lap, phone in hand, scrolling through memes.

Mira walked by and gave you both a long stare.

“You two being gross again?”

Without missing a beat, Zoey replied:

“Yup. And tonight we’re skipping the music. Hope you like live percussion.”

You died laughing.

Mira stopped in her tracks. “…You’ve changed.”

“Character development,” Zoey replied smugly.

Rumi entered just in time to hear that. “Did you finally break her, Y/N?”

You shrugged.

“She likes being broken. Gently.”

Zoey swatted your chest and buried her face into your neck.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Later That Night

Lights dim. TV buzzing low. Zoey curled under your arm, legs tangled with yours. The world slowed down.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Thanks for not being ashamed.”

You kissed her hair.

“Never will be.”

“Even with them making jokes every five minutes?”

“Even then. Especially then. It just means they noticed.”

“And what did they notice?”

You tipped her chin toward you.

“That I have the best girl in the world.”

She kissed you like you’d said the exact thing she needed to hear.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Weeks Later

You passed Mira and Rumi in the kitchen.

Mira glanced toward your shared bedroom door.

“It’s been... weirdly quiet lately.”

Rumi nodded. “Should we be worried? Or grateful?”

You grabbed a glass of water.

“Just pacing ourselves. You’ll know when it’s showtime.”

Mira dropped her spoon.

Zoey, walking in behind you, yawned and said:

“I already warned the walls.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

And so, life in the Huntrix dorm continued.

Laughter. Music. Practice.

And teasing — always teasing.

But underneath it all, Zoey and Y/N kept being loud in their own way.

Through touches. Through glances. Through shared snacks, shared space, and whispered affection.

It was chaotic.

It was intimate.

It was home.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

END

[nuelles]

English Love Affair || Spencer Agnew

Summary: When a charming new English cast member joins Smosh, Spencer Agnew expects a few accent jokes—not to fall headfirst into a full-blown crush that makes forming coherent sentences feel like a team sport. From flirty banter and failed attempts at British slang to stolen moments behind the scenes and a kiss in the prop closet that changes everything, the tension slowly builds until one of them finally cracks.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x British!Reader

Tropes: Mutual Pining, Flustered Spencer, Teasing British Charmer, Confession in a Closet, Found Family Chaos

Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Flirting(?), reader is technically british, not proofread

WC: 2.9K

Author's Note: once again, star and support banner from @cafekitsune came up with this idea while listening to a 1D/5SOS playlist,t when you guessed it, English Love Affair came on, and this idea was born :D technically not proofread, but I did use the free Grammarly to check for any spelling errors lo,l hope you enjoy it

Spencer didn’t have crushes.

He had casual interests. Situational attractions. A passing fondness for someone’s hoodie or their oddly specific Spotify playlists. But not crushes.

Crushes were dangerous.

Crushes made him weird.

And you? Oh, you made him weirder than ever.

From the moment you joined the Smosh cast—arriving with a duffel bag, an accent so clean it sounded like BBC narration, and a casual “Heya, I’m [Y/N],” thrown over your shoulder like you weren’t setting the studio on fire—Spencer had been in trouble.

He didn’t mean to stare. He didn’t mean to short-circuit when you called him “love.” And he definitely didn’t mean to drop a cold open script right into the trash can because you brushed past him and smelled like tea and sandalwood.

But here he was, three weeks later, sitting in the green room with Courtney and Shayne, pretending to read a sketch rundown while his brain was busy repeating “they just said ‘cheers, darling’ like it was casual” on loop.

“You okay, bud?” Courtney asked, peeling the wrapper off a protein bar and raising a brow.

“Hm?” Spencer blinked up. “Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”

Shayne snorted. “You’ve been staring at the same piece of paper for ten minutes.”

“I’m reading.”

“Upside down?”

Spencer looked down. Shit. The page was upside down.

Before he could defend himself, the green room door opened—and in you walked, all bright-eyed and windblown from the California heat, sipping a cold brew like you weren’t a walking serotonin hit.

“Morning, everyone,” you chirped. “Sorry I’m late. My Uber driver took me on a full tour of Silver Lake first.”

Spencer’s throat did a thing.

You turned to him specifically and offered a wink. “Morning, Spence.”

“Uh—” he coughed. “Hi.”

That was all. Just “hi.” But it came out like someone had kicked him in the lungs.

Shayne made a face behind your back. Courtney smirked and mouthed down BAD at him.

You sat down casually beside Spencer, knees brushing, completely unaware of the crisis you were sending him into.

“Are we running through the sketch first?” you asked, leaning over to look at his (still upside-down) page. “Or are we winging it again?”

“Uh, I uh, yeah, no yes. Sketch,” he said. “First.”

You tilted your head. “You alright?”

“Totally.”

You smiled, slow and cheeky. “You go all shy on me every time I talk to you. It’s cute.”

Spencer blinked.

Shayne full-on wheezed. Courtney dropped her protein bar.

“Excuse me,” Spencer said, standing up so fast his chair screeched. “I forgot something. Something… important. Somewhere else.”

And then he was gone.

Gone like a puff of smoke.

Gone like he could outrun his own embarrassment.

You blinked after him, then turned to the rest of the room. “Did I break him?”

Courtney grinned. “Oh, honey. You absolutely shattered him.”

Shayne leaned back and sighed. “God, this is better than cable.”

“Alright,” Courtney clapped her hands, standing at the front of the studio in director mode, “this sketch is called ‘When Your Partner is British and Everything Sounds Sexier Than It Should.’”

Spencer froze mid-sip of water.

You, meanwhile, looked delighted. “Oh, I’m the partner, aren’t I?”

Courtney grinned. “Naturally. You’ll be playing the lovely, charming British love interest.”

Damien leaned in with a grin. “Which is, y’know, just you but turned up to eleven.”

Spencer whispered a silent prayer to the comedy gods that this was a joke.

It was not.

“And Spencer,” Courtney said, pointing at him with her clipboard like a person sealing another’s fate, “you’re the flustered American boyfriend who slowly loses his grip on reality every time they say something like ‘bin’ or ‘cuppa.’ Cool?”

Cool? Cool?!

Spencer wasn’t sure he even knew what cool was anymore. He could barely remember his own name when you wore leather jackets and said things like cheeky.

But somehow, he nodded. “Yeah. Totally.”

Camera rolling. Lights hot. Shayne holding a boom mic like it’s a sword.

You walked into frame with a mug in your hand. “I made you a cuppa, darling.”

Spencer blinked.

Then blinked again.

“Uh. Thanks.”

The audience—meaning the crew standing behind the camera—already started snickering.

You leaned on the counter. “Put the kettle on myself. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

Spencer opened his mouth. No words came out.

Courtney called, “Spencer, you're supposed to respond!”

“Right!” Spencer shook himself. “Right. Uh—thanks, babe. You’re… you’re really good at… hot liquids.”

Shayne choked off-camera.

Damien collapsed behind the monitor.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Hot liquids, huh?”

Spencer turned bright red.

“Cut!” Courtney said, cackling. “Spencer, you’re dying. Are you okay?”

“Not even a little!” Spencer wheezed.

You turned to him, completely composed. “I really do think I break your brain a little.”

“You do.”

You winked.

He almost fell over.

After a couple more shots, things went off track. You were off-script by now. Everyone was.

You sauntered up to him, leaned on the counter, and said with the most casually devastating smile

“You know, Spencer… you blush every time I call you darling.

Wonder what would happen if I said ‘baby.’”

He blinked. He actually swayed.

“Baby,” you repeated, sweeter this time, with an eyebrow raise.

“How’s that?”

Spencer turned to camera one, deadpan. “I am filing an HR report. Against God.”

The crew lost it.

Shayne ran off-screen, wheezing. Damien was on the floor. Alex screamed, “WE’RE KEEPING THAT ONE,” and immediately wrote it down for the edit.

You? Still calmly sipping fake tea from a prop mug.

Spencer?

Emotionally wrecked. Again.

He looked at you after the cameras stopped, rubbing the back of his neck, bashful as ever. “You really like messing with me, huh?”

You smiled. “Only because you’re cute when you glitch.”

His brain blue-screened. Again.

You just walked past him, whispering as you did, “That was just acting, Spence. Imagine what it’d be like if I meant it.”

And with that, you disappeared down the hall.

Leaving Spencer in the middle of the set, blinking at the air where you’d been.

Courtney peeked around the corner. “He’s gonna be thinking about that for the rest of the week.”

Shayne cackled from beside them, “Wrong. That man is never recovering.”

Spencer had a plan.

And it was stupid.

It had formed in the deepest, least-lit corner of his brain at approximately 2:17 a.m. the night before, fueled by half a Baja Blast and a tweet from Courtney that simply said:

“At this point, Spencer either needs to shoot his shot or ask Y/N to adopt him. There is no in-between.”

So, naturally, he woke up the next morning and decided: Today’s the day I flirt back.

Was he good at flirting? No. Did he practice in the mirror? Also no. Did he, at one point, Google “British slang for hot people”? …Absolutely yes.

The opportunity came during a break between filming sketches.

You were standing near the snack table, sipping an iced coffee and scrolling through your phone, completely unaware of the emotional war raging five feet away, where Spencer was giving himself a silent pep talk by the water cooler.

“Alright, bud,” he muttered. “Be chill. Be smooth. Say something suave. You can do this.”

He walked over.

You looked up and smiled. “Hey, Spence.”

Okay. That was already too much. You smiled like you knew things. Secret things. Things that melted people.

But Spencer powered through.

He leaned casually—too casually—against the table, knocking a bag of trail mix to the floor. He kept going.

“So…” he said, voice cracking slightly, “I was just thinking… you look very… peng.”

You blinked. “I look what?”

Spencer paled. “Peng. Like… the slang. British. For hot. I saw it in a meme. I think.”

You stared at him.

Then you burst out laughing.

Not at him, never cruel—just delighted, bright and amused like someone who’d just watched a puppy fall over its own feet.

“Oh my god, did you Google that?” you asked, leaning in.

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer muttered, ears pink.

“Wow,” you grinned. “And here I thought you were immune to my charm.”

“I am very much not immune,” he said before he could stop himself.

The second the words left his mouth, his eyes widened. “Wait, I didn’t mean—well, I did—but not like,”

You raised a brow. “Not like what, Spence?”

Behind you, Courtney was peeking around the corner of the hallway like a gremlin. Shayne was halfway behind a curtain with a camera phone. Damien was standing behind a plant for no reason.

Spencer looked at you. Looked at the plant. Looked at his life. His choices.

“…I’m gonna go lay down in the parking lot,” he said.

You caught his wrist as he turned.

“Hey,” you said gently, soft and sincere beneath the mischief, “that was actually pretty adorable.”

Spencer blinked.

You smiled again. This time, slower. Quieter.

“And for the record?” you added, voice lower now, “I think you’re peng too.”

Spencer made a tiny noise that only dogs could hear, then fled the room like it was on fire.

From behind the plant, Damien whispered, “He’s gonna combust before the finale sketch.”

Courtney nodded, pulling out her phone.

@courtneymiller: “Update: Spencer tried to flirt back. @y/ntwt called him peng. He short-circuited and left his own body. 10/10 content. More to come.”

You prided yourself on your composure.

It was part of your whole thing. British wit, dry humor, just enough casual flirtation to keep Spencer blinking like a confused baby deer but never quite catching up.

You’d mastered the art of making him blush and stammer with little more than a wink and a “good boy” under your breath during rehearsals.

But today?

Today the universe betrayed you.

Because today Spencer Agnew was wearing rings.

It started simple. Harmless.

You’d been filming Try Not To Laugh all morning, and Spencer had shown up in his usual flannel, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, rings glinting under the set lights like they had every right to look that good.

You barely noticed at first.

Barely.

Until you saw him doing that thing—that thing—where he laughed at someone else’s bit and leaned forward, fingers curled near his mouth, thumb brushing his lip absently.

And the rings? Oh, they caught the light just right.

You blinked.

And blinked again.

Danger. Danger. Critical systems failing.

You tried to focus on the sketch rundown in your lap. Failed. Tried again. Nope. Your eyes betrayed you, flicking back to his hands every five seconds.

Spencer noticed.

Of course he noticed.

But instead of panicking like usual, he smirked.

And then—then, the betrayal deepened—he stretched. Arms overhead, rings flashing, hoodie riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin and a trail of ink you didn’t even know he had.

You choked on air.

Spencer looked at you and, without missing a beat, said casually, “Everything alright, love?”

Your brain went white noise.

“You—uh—yeah,” you said, voice far too high. “Totally.”

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You’re looking a bit… flustered.”

Courtney, standing across the room, saw everything.

“Holy shit,” she whispered to Shayne. “He’s winning. HE’S WINNING.”

You tried to compose yourself.

Tried to pull your signature smirk, tried to regain upper hand status, but it was too late.

Spencer leaned in slightly, voice lower now, “You’re staring at my hands.”

“I’m not,” you lied.

“You are.”

He flexed his fingers, rings catching the light again. “You like them?”

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

Spencer grinned, “I googled 'things British people find attractive. Rings were on the list.”

You gawked. “You’re weaponizing Google against me?”

“Absolutely.”

You blinked, stunned. “Are you… flirting with me right now?”

He smiled sweetly. “Would you prefer if I called you peng again?”

You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face go crimson.

Courtney collapsed behind the prop table. “Finally.”

Shayne pumped his fist. “We’ve got a flustered Brit, people. This is NOT a drill.”

Later, Spencer passed you in the hallway. Said nothing. Just winked.

You nearly dropped your water bottle.

It was quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happens after everyone else has gone home and the hum of studio lights becomes louder than your own thoughts.

You were sitting on the floor of the prop closet, cross-legged and half-squished between a crate of fake swords and a pile of “Try Not To Laugh” costumes, eating snacks with Spencer like you’d done it a hundred times before. It had become a little cocoon of sorts between the two of you. The only time you two seemed to be able to have a proper conversation without Spencer turning into a mumbling and blushing mess. Maybe it was because he could look at everything but your eyes, or perhaps it was the fact it was the only time he had alone with you.

But tonight felt different.

He was next to you—closer than usual. Close enough that your shoulders touched every time one of you breathed. Close enough that the teasing silence between you had weight.

Neither of you had spoken for a few minutes.

Just sitting. Not talking. Not joking.

Just... waiting.

And then Spencer sighed. Not dramatic. Not comedic. Just soft.

You looked at him, and for once he didn’t glance away.

“I don’t think I can keep pretending it’s all a bit anymore,” he said quietly.

You blinked. “What?”

“The jokes. The flirting. All of it.” He picked at the seam of his hoodie. “I know I’ve been... weird. And nervous. And totally uncool, because apparently that’s my default setting when you’re around. But none of it’s just been for the camera.”

Your heart jumped. “You’re saying that now? After weeks of teasing and Google-search-based warfare?”

Spencer chuckled. “I tried flirting back and nearly died, [Y/N]. But you kept smiling at me like I was worth figuring out. And I think... I just want to be real with you for once.”

The air shifted.

Your pulse raced.

“And what’s real?” you asked, quieter now.

Spencer looked at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “That I like you. A lot. And it’s not a sketch. And it’s not a punchline.”

The silence stretched. This time it felt safe.

You set down the bag of gummy worms in your lap.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” you murmured.

Spencer blinked. “Wait—what?”

You smiled. “You really thought I’d flirt this hard with someone I didn’t actually like?”

“You called me peng in front of witnesses!”

“And you’ve been wearing rings to destroy my brain chemistry!”

He blinked, then laughed, the sound sharp and disbelieving. “So this whole time... we were both just melting in private?”

“Seems like it.”

Spencer shook his head. “We’re idiots.”

“The most charming idiots alive.”

You leaned in before he could overthink it—just enough to rest your forehead against his.

He exhaled, like all that nervous energy finally leaked out of him.

And then you said it, low and honest, “I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

His fingers found yours in the dark between the props. Just a light touch. Steady.

“Cool,” he whispered. “So, uh. Can I kiss you now?”

You grinned. “Please.”

The first kiss was awkward. A little clumsy. All hoodie and hoodie strings and knees knocking together—

But then he laughed into your mouth, and you smiled against his, and it clicked into place like a punchline finally landing.

From outside the prop closet, Courtney whispered into her phone, “Update: they’re kissing. I repeat, they’re kissing. Shayne owes me ten bucks.”

You walked into the green room the next morning, hand-in-hand with Spencer like it was nothing—because it wasn’t. It felt easy. Normal. Right.

But the moment you stepped through the door, it was over.

POP!

A confetti cannon exploded directly above your heads.

Damien jumped out from behind the snack table wearing a sash that said “I KNEW IT.”

Courtney slid across the floor on socks, dramatically pointing a finger. “YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE THIS FROM ME?! FROM ME?!”

Spencer blinked, already covered in glitter. “…Was that a confetti trap?”

“Rigged it last night,” Shayne said proudly, holding up a remote detonator. “Courtney gave me your location coordinates from Life360.”

You stared. “You track us?!”

Courtney shrugged. “Only when I know something spicy is happening in the prop closet.”

Ian burst through the hallway holding two foam swords. “IS IT OFFICIAL? ARE WE SHIPPING THIS FOR REAL?”

“I already designed the couple's name,” Alex added, entering with a stack of printed logos. “'Spencyn.' Or maybe 'Y/Ncer.' We’ll A/B test it.”

“No one is branding our relationship,” Spencer said weakly, ducking as a second confetti cannon fired—this time directly into his hair.

You tried to speak, to explain, but it was too late.

Courtney, now connected to a speaker, pressed play on her song of choice.

“At Last” by Etta James starts playing

Someone dims the lights. Shayne produces a ring light. Damien pours sparkling cider into paper cups.

“Dance!” Courtney demanded. “This is your first official cast romance. We’re milking this for all it’s worth!”

Spencer turned to you, blinking through glitter. “Are they… throwing us a surprise… relationship party?”

“Yup.”

“Do we stop it?”

You looked around at the chaos. Shayne was filming. Ian was making flower crowns for you both using props. Courtney was crying into a gold streamer.

You smiled, fingers tightening in Spencer’s.

“Nah. Let them have it.”

So you danced. In the green room. Covered in confetti and chaos. Spencer’s hoodie string tangled in yours, his smile wide and disbelieving. Your head on his shoulder, your cheeks aching from laughter.

And somewhere in the chaos, Damien raised a toast, “To slow burns, dumb jokes, and the prop closet that started it all.”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Crossed Wires

Marshall had never been good at relationships. Too much time spent in the studio, too much baggage, too much… him. But somehow, you had slipped past his defenses. You were sharp, funny, and way too young for him. Young enough that when you first met, he’d almost walked away on principle.

But you weren’t just some girl chasing after the infamous Eminem. You saw him—Marshall, the man behind the music, the one who never quite figured out how to balance fame and real life. And somehow, despite his reluctance, despite the age gap, despite everything… he couldn’t stay away.

That’s why your relationship was a secret. One he hadn’t even told his daughters about.

So when you showed up at Hailie’s house on a Saturday afternoon, dressed casually with a bottle of wine in hand, the last person you expected to lock eyes with was Marshall Mathers. And by the way his face paled, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you either.

“What the f—” He barely caught himself as his gaze darted between you and Hailie, who was cheerfully introducing you to some other friends.

You felt your stomach drop. “You’re… you’re her dad?”

He blinked. “You know Hailie?”

“Of course, I know Hailie! She’s my friend from college!”

Marshall ran a hand down his face, as if hoping this was some insane fever dream. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

Hailie, still oblivious to the fact that a literal crisis was unfolding in front of her, grinned. “Dad! I didn’t know you knew Y/N!”

Oh, he knew you. Intimately.

Your eyes were screaming at him to say something, but he was still frozen in place.

“I, uh… yeah,” he finally mumbled. “I know her.”

Hailie beamed. “Small world, huh?”

You and Marshall shared a look, both internally panicking but externally forcing the most awkward smiles of your lives.

Yeah. Too small.

Marshall hadn’t felt this kind of panic since the last time he bombed on stage.

You could practically see the gears in his head jamming as he forced a stiff nod and stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets like some awkward teenager. Meanwhile, you were fighting every instinct to grab his arm and drag him into the nearest empty room for an emergency damage-control meeting.

But that would be suspicious.

So instead, you forced a bright smile, praying Hailie didn’t notice how your voice cracked when you said, “Yeah, totally a small world!”

Marshall, for his part, just grunted. Classic.

And just like that, the party went on.

Except now, you and Marshall were stuck in some twisted game of social survival, forced to act like two people who had not spent last weekend tangled up in his bed. And to make things worse? Hailie was curious.

“So how exactly do you guys know each other?” she asked, plopping down on the couch next to you with a beer in hand.

Marshall, standing across the room, immediately pulled out his phone. A second later, yours vibrated.

M: wtf do we say

You forced a laugh. “Oh, you know… mutual friends.”

Hailie raised an eyebrow. “Like who?”

Your phone buzzed again.

M: GIVE HER A NAME WTF

Your mind scrambled before blurting out, “Um, Nathan?”

Marshall’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Nate?”

Hailie looked skeptical. “My uncle Nate?”

Your phone vibrated so fast you swore it might catch fire.

M: yOU KNOW MY BROTHER??

You resisted the urge to glare at him. Not helping.

“Uh, yeah! I met Nate once,” you said, nodding way too enthusiastically. “At, um… a bar?”

Hailie squinted. “Nate doesn’t drink.”

God. Damn. It.

Your phone buzzed again.

M: you are the WORST at this

You swallowed hard. “Right, I meant, like… a coffee bar?”

Hailie blinked. “A Starbucks?”

Marshall coughed violently, probably to cover a laugh, and you shot him a do not start with me look.

“Yeah! Totally Starbucks,” you said, scrambling. “And we just… you know, started talking, and then I met your dad, and yeah.”

Hailie still looked suspicious, but before she could interrogate you further, someone called her name from across the room. She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at you. “I will be circling back to this.”

As soon as she walked away, you whipped out your phone.

You: We’re so bad at this

M: I know. We need to escape

You: We can’t. That would look even weirder.

M: …then we suffer.

You sighed, stealing a glance at Marshall, who was staring at his beer like it held all the answers to this nightmare.

Yeah. Suffering it was.

---

Marshall had survived rap battles, lawsuits, and the entire Machine Gun Kelly incident, but nothing—nothing—had prepared him for Hailie’s suspicious glare as she cornered him in the kitchen.

“So,” she started, popping open another beer. “You and Y/N, huh?”

Marshall, who had been quietly texting you under the table, immediately locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket like a guilty teenager. “What about us?”

Hailie leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You tell me.”

Marshall played it cool, taking a slow sip of his drink. “She said we met through Nate.”

Hailie nodded. “Right. At a coffee bar.”

“…Yeah.”

“She doesn’t drink coffee.”

Marshall choked on his beer. “What?”

“She literally hates it. The smell, the taste, all of it. She orders hot chocolate when we go to Starbucks.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He already knew it was you, probably panicking.

You: SOS. SHE’S ASKING QUESTIONS.

Marshall took a deep breath. “Uh, well… maybe she was there for, I dunno, tea or some shit?”

Hailie narrowed her eyes. “You don’t drink coffee either.”

“Okay, what is this, the FBI?” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I just think it’s weird,” she said, studying him like a science experiment. “You never mentioned knowing her, and she never mentioned knowing you. And you”—she pointed at him—“are acting sketchy as hell.”

His phone buzzed again.

You: She smells fear. ABORT.

Marshall sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look, we’ve met a couple times. She’s cool. That’s it.”

Hailie hummed in a way that let him know she definitely wasn’t buying it. “Right. Just a couple times.”

“Yep.”

“Not, like, a lot of times?”

“Nope.”

“Not, like… at your house times?”

Marshall took another long sip of beer, avoiding eye contact. “Hailie, I swear to God—”

“I’m just saying,” she interrupted, smirking now. “You’re acting real weird over a ‘mutual friend.’”

His phone buzzed one more time.

You: Are we about to get caught?

He sighed, already feeling a headache coming on.

M: Probably.

---

You didn’t mean to break. You really didn’t. But Hailie was staring at you with that look—the one she used when she knew someone was full of shit. And you were. So full of shit.

It was only a matter of time before she cracked you open like a damn walnut.

So you did the only thing you could. You exhaled sharply, set down your drink, and muttered, “Okay, fine. You wanna know the truth?”

Hailie’s eyebrows shot up. Marshall, who had just entered the room, froze mid-step. “Y/N—” he started, warning in his tone.

“No, she’s right,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “This is stupid. The real story? We met on Tinder.”

Dead silence.

Marshall visibly cringed, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“A year ago,” you continued, ignoring him. “We started hooking up, then going on actual dates, and now… I guess we’re, like, dating-dating?”

Hailie’s jaw actually dropped. You didn’t blame her.

“You met my dad on Tinder?!”

Marshall groaned, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

“We didn’t know we both knew you!” you added quickly. “We never thought to, like, cross-reference our lives because—”

“Because why the fuck would I ever think to ask if my girlfriend is friends with my daughter?” Marshall muttered, pacing now.

Hailie blinked, looking between the two of you like she was witnessing some kind of twisted social experiment. Then, to both of your shock, she burst out laughing.

Like, full-on, can’t-breathe, tears-in-her-eyes laughing.

You and Marshall just stared.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed, gripping the counter. “You two are the dumbest people I have ever met.”

Marshall scowled. “Wow. Thanks.”

“No, really.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “Dad, you don’t date. You literally never date. And you”—she pointed at you—“don’t do Tinder hookups! How the hell did this even happen?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Honestly? No idea.”

Hailie shook her head, grinning. “I mean, it’s weird, but… holy shit, I’m so glad I got to watch you both absolutely crumble under pressure. That was amazing.”

Marshall just groaned, finally sinking into a chair. But under the frustration, you saw something else—guilt.

And you knew why.

After a beat, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Hailie… I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

She softened a little, still smiling but more understanding now. “I know.”

“I just—” He sighed again. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. And by the time I thought about it, it already felt too late.”

Hailie nodded. “I get it. But, like… you know you can just tell me things, right? Especially if they involve someone I actually know?”

Marshall chuckled dryly. “Yeah. Noted.”

She shook her head again, still grinning. “I cannot wait to tell Nate and Lainey about this.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no.”

[multifamdomfan]

Could you write a heartwarming crack fic where Wednesday buys all the Hyde paintings of Tyler from Xavier?

Of course!

---

An Investment in Atrocities

Xavier had long since abandoned his artistic obsession with Tyler’s Hyde form. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t productive. It was, frankly, a little bit creepy in retrospect. So, one fine, dreary Nevermore afternoon, he gathered up every single one of his paintings—the brooding close-ups of Hyde’s grotesque features, the full-body action shots, the unsettlingly detailed studies of its claws—and decided to get rid of them.

He was about to set them on fire (a fitting metaphor for the mess that was his life), but before he could strike the match, a voice like a particularly condescending funeral bell interrupted him.

“I’ll take them.”

Xavier nearly dropped his lighter. “Wednesday?”

She stood there in all her gothic glory, arms crossed, gaze unwavering.

“You want my Hyde paintings?” he asked incredulously.

She tilted her head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“That is none of your concern.”

Which, of course, meant Xavier was now very concerned. “Uh… you do remember that Hyde is Tyler? The guy who tried to kill all of us?”

Wednesday’s expression didn’t change. “I am aware. That is precisely why I must have them.”

Xavier narrowed his eyes. “Wait. This isn’t some weird Addams Family revenge ritual, is it?”

Wednesday’s lips curled slightly, the closest she ever got to a smile. “How much?”

“…Excuse me?”

“How much for all of them?”

Xavier had a lot of questions, but his primary concern was that Wednesday Addams, notorious for her lack of materialism, was actually willing to buy something. That was suspicious. That was alarming. That was, unfortunately, lucrative.

“…Fifty bucks?” he offered, half-joking.

Wednesday immediately pulled out a crisp bill and handed it to him.

“…Wait, seriously?”

“Consider yourself fortunate. I was prepared to pay more.”

With that, she gathered the stack of horrifying Hyde artwork and, without another word, disappeared into the night (or, more accurately, into the dorms).

The Truth is Revealed

A week later, Xavier found out what she’d done.

He’d been minding his own business, sketching something normal for once, when Enid burst into his art studio, breathless and pink with barely-contained laughter.

“Xavier. XAVIER.” She gasped for air. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Wednesday. The paintings.”

His stomach dropped. “What about them?”

Enid wiped away a tear of laughter. “SHE GAVE THEM TO TYLER.”

Xavier blinked. “I—she what.”

“She just walked into the Weathervane, dumped the entire collection onto the counter, and said, ‘You should own the most accurate depictions of your true self.’”

Xavier’s jaw hit the floor. “No. No way.”

“Oh, it gets better.” Enid practically vibrated with delight. “He just stood there in shock, and then she walked out. And now he’s just—he’s just stuck with them! He doesn’t know whether to be offended, horrified, or impressed.”

Xavier groaned, running a hand down his face. “That is the single most unhinged thing she’s ever done.”

Enid nodded enthusiastically. “And that’s saying a lot.”

But Xavier still felt like something was missing.

“…Wait. Did she give him all of them?”

Enid’s laughter slowed, her face scrunching in thought. “Oh. No, actually. She kept one.”

Xavier felt an immediate, instinctive dread. “Which one?”

“The big one.”

The big one.

The one Xavier had spent weeks on, obsessing over every intricate detail of Hyde’s monstrous form. The one with the menacing red eyes and dynamic, clawed posture. The one that, at the time, he had thought really captured Tyler’s raw, terrifying nature.

“She hung it above her bed.”

Xavier groaned. “Of course she did.”

And somewhere in her dorm, Wednesday Addams sipped her tea, looking up at the grotesque image of Hyde with something that might have been satisfaction—or amusement.

Enid sighed from her bed. “I hate that I’m getting used to this.”

---

The End.

[kangaracha]

flora and fauna; chapter 10

written by @kangaracha and @keepswingin

summary failed kpop trainee bang christopher chan returns home to produce music as an independant australian artist. nothing he writes ever sounds quite right, or lives up to the dream he was denied, until he meets a fellow ex-idol on the streets of sydney and realises maybe that world isn't as closed off to him as he had assumed.

tags no pairing (minor chanlix), idols au, failed idols, hurt/comfort, based on FNF by stray kids

skz masterlist previous | masterlist | next

---

Eventually, Chan calls Jisung too - even though it’s late in the day by then and a month or more since they last spoke, their connection bordered by distance and schedules. 

Despite his anxieties, Jisung picks up on the first ring, answering with the half-mumbled, casual greeting that means he’s sitting up in a studio somewhere, writing. Chan looks around his own studio as the other boy confirms it, dark except for his computer screen and the small glow of Felix’s phone in the corner. Suddenly the miles between them don’t seem quite as wide as they had when he’d been sat here alone, staring at the phone.

“Would you work with me on something?” he asks when the moment arises. “You and Changbin?”

The squeaking of Jisung’s chair in the background stops abruptly, bookended by the crack of his elbow against a table and a word that shouldn’t be heard at work. “Ow,” Jisung says, drawing the syllable out so far that Chan’s not sure whether it or his patience would break first. “That hurt. I almost spilled my coffee.”

“You’re drinking coffee at night?” Chan asks, and tries to pretend that his chest isn’t about to burst open from the absence of an answer to his question.

“Yeah man,” Jisung grunts around the sound of something being shifted in the background. “I’m working on something. I need coffee to work on something.”

There was a time that Chan would have scolded him for that; but now, he can’t focus on it, his mind sliding right back to the problem it’s been fixed on all day. “So? Do you want to…work together?”

“Oh.” Fear splits through him for a split second at the pause in Jisung’s voice, setting his heart in his throat just before the boy continues. “Yes? Obviously? Wait, I don’t know where Changbin is. He’s in, anyway. When do you want to do it?”

Relief floods him, like a wave of ice water over a fire. He feels the heady rush of it in his limbs and the back of his throat, making it hard to sit still and straight rather than collapse in a pile. “When are you available?” he asks, rather than admitting that he is a nervous wreck, and swallows the face-splitting grin that tries to creep up on him, the tears that gather in the corner of his eyes at the release of the pressure that’s been weighing him down all day.

“Uh…” Just as quickly as Jisung’s voice had risen, it drops into a hush again. “Don’t tell anyone, but in a month we’re going on an extended break.”

“What?” Chan searches his brain for the latest k-pop news - he keeps up with Jisung’s group as well as any fan does - but he’s sure he’s seen nothing except promotions and the usual content being put out. “Why?”

Jisung sighs, his breath filtering white noise down the line. “Two of our vocal line want to break contract and leave,” he says. “Another one is injured. I’ve been sick, we don’t like any of the music the company has optioned for us - and our sales don’t match our costs. I think they’ve just decided to put the money into debuting another group for now rather than limping us through another comeback.”

“That sucks,” Chan says, and when he leans back into his chair and stares over at the composition pulled up on his computer screen, he definitely doesn’t think of the burning fires he’d once tried to put out in another group, a place that wasn’t his home.

“Yeah,” Jisung agrees. “It gives us time to work on solo stuff though. We were going to call you anyway, see if we could make some stuff together like we used to.”

“3racha?” Chan bites back a smile. “I don’t know if I have the kind of production credits your company is looking for.”

“The company isn't even looking at us right now,” Jisung scoffs. “I could put something out tomorrow and they wouldn’t say a word. I could kidnap Changbin and fly to Australia and they’d just keep emailing me like nothing happened.”

“Oh, good,” Chan says lightly. “So you can come over here and work in my studio, then.”

“What?” Jisung replies. “I already booked the flight. I told you ages ago, I’m coming to see the kangaroo den.”

Chan laughs, but the memory isn’t as funny as it first seems. Jisung was supposed to come, yes - but on tour, celebrating success, not alone under the eye of a blind company. His talent deserved better than stories of a group taking a turn for the worse after only moderate success.

It’s not all bad, though, he reminds himself firmly, because sinking into dark places has never helped him. He can be as selfish as he likes, if their company has nothing scheduled for them. He could keep them for a month or more - he could have them and Seungmin and I.N here all at the same time. The idea leaves him a little breathless, the more he thinks about it…and then he has Minho coming too, and Hyunjin, and…

“You haven’t even asked me what the album’s about,” he says, and he almost manages to sound like a normal, relaxed person.

“Doesn’t matter what it’s about,” Jisung shoots back. “You’re a genius. It’s going to be good no matter what it is.”

“No, no,” Chan hurries to say. “No, that’s not true. I haven’t been able to get anything right since I left you guys.”

“Except for your award-winning single that went viral world-wide,” Jisung points out. His voice is breathy, like he’s laughing, a smile pulling too hard at his face when he’s trying to speak. “Anyway, we’ll be there. Online, or in Australia. Wherever you want. 3racha, the revival tour.”

3racha, something he hadn’t thought about in months, even though he always held it close in his heart. The opportunity he’d missed, the future he’d once thought was just meant to be, before reality reminded him that signing a contract meant that the future was decided by someone else.

But this time, he’s read the fine print. This time, he’s in control.

This time, this second chance he’d been given, he could build his own group, and he wouldn’t take them for granted.

taglist

@amyyscorner @kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @keepswingin @rylea08 @puppysmileseungmin

@thatonedemigodfromseoul @atinyniki @qwonyoung23

[nossumusstellae]

Yellowjackets S2 opener thoughts

I will say this first: the music selections are PERFECTION

spoilers ahead, as always, for episodes 1 and 2

SCHEDULED POST

Episode 1

*adds opening song to fav playlist*

my goddess would it kill them to give Nat more than a single cm of roots like wtf - a good inch of her hair at least would be brown by now seesh

yay inaccurate portrayal of ECT therapy (please for the love of all things writing, please showrunners, google before portraying controversial treatments)

So Lottie's actresses (yes both of them!) are of New Zealand/Maori descent (present actress is Maori on both sides, past only on one) - but her character is treated as being American Aboriginal - just something interesting I have noticed

HA the camera icon on Misty's phone is directly over Caligula's eye XD

did they. seriously. Jackie's corpse? FOR TWO MONTHS? wft. WTF why isn't she buried oh goddess are they saving her to .... uh oh... ya know. do the uh... *thing* with her?! or is it just Shauna being stubborn please tell me its just Shauna being stubborn I mean... they haven't even brought up having to do... the *thing* yet...

speaking of javi where is the kid?????

seriously you two ... do you really thing that leaving your fuck remnants all over boy toy's studio is going to do you any good *facepalms*

of all the things on my bingo card for this show - hearing the song Last Resort by Papa Roach - the song used to promote the Netflix Devil May Cry anime - was not one of them

setting a fire UNDER a tree... what could possibly go wrong?

don't these people ever learn... never mess with my girl Nat *stabs hand with fork*

OH GODDESS I DID NOT NEED TO SEE OH EW OH EW GROSS OLD MAN *throw up noises* COVER THAT UP FOR THE LOVE OF - -

Shauna please please don't eat that - ohhh she. yep. she ate it.

oh that promo looks intense... onwards to ep 2 I guess!!

Episode 2

so it is stated that Shauna is 7 months. but they have only been out in the woods for 4? timeline issues here GALORE (by the 7 months logic, our girl Nat would be almost all brown)

oh my goddess Nat's leather would be so cracked and dry and absolutely WRECKED by now

oh was I being treated when you purple fucks came and jumped me - goddess I love Nat

oh that dog is so cute <3 love that little Steve

Nat what you doing with Javi's pants - that's going to come back a bite her, knowing this show...

ah the truth of Travis' death - or some of it anyway

I knew there was something odd about that guy Callie was flirting with at the bar (could they have chosen a more cop-like guy to play a cop?)

oh. ah. oh. fuck visions. lovely.

Roman feast? that's one way of uh... putting what they are doing...

oh goddess things are about to get super fucked up...

again. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU GOTTEN ME INTO @write-with-will ?!?!??

[meeiyo]

WATCH THE THRONE.. OR NOT (⚠️TW: SUSPICIOUS BROMANCE ENERGY + TOO MUCH EYE CONTACT, EXCESSIVE FLIRTING + COLLISION OF EGOS + YAOI ENERGY INTENSIFIES⚠️)

Kanye is pacing in the studio, wearing shutter shades and a $5,000 Balenciaga bathrobe.

Kanye: Bro... Jay. I gotta say it. I been feeling something. It’s not just beats... it’s us. 🎤💔

Jay-Z: looks up from his NFT portfolio Ye… I knew this day would come. You been dropping hints since “Otis.” 👀

Kanye: So you knew?! The late-night studio sessions… the matching leather jackets… the synchronized Grammy eye-rolls… 😩

Jay-Z: Bro… you remixed my heart. 😭🧠💎

Kanye dramatically throws his shades off. They shatter into 808s and heartbreaks.

Kanye: Then let’s do it. Let’s drop the most fire collab… of our hearts. 💿💋

Jay-Z: walks over slowly, intense music playing Are we gonna Watch the Throne… or become it? 👑💑

Kanye: softly We are the throne...

They lean in. Suddenly—

Beyoncé (from the ceiling): UH-UH! NOT ON MY VISUAL ALBUM, YOU DON’T. 👀🎥

Kanye: Queen B, pls… this is art 😭

Jay-Z: Wait, B, it’s not what it looks like—okay maybe it is—😳

Beyoncé: I’m watching… the throne crack.

She backflips into the fog and disappears.

Kanye: So what now?

Jay-Z: We keep going. For love. For the fans. For the culture. 💪

Then.. Jay-Z and Kanye dramatically sit on two golden thrones, holding hands, bathed in red studio lighting. Suddenly, the door bursts open...

Lil Nas X: slides in on a glitter horse Y’ALL THOUGHT YOU COULD HAVE A GAY MOMENT WITHOUT ME??? 🐎✨

Drake: appears behind him wearing heart-shaped earrings I sensed an emotional disturbance in the bromance force. Had to pull up. 🎯

Kanye: 😨 Not you too…

Jay-Z: Bruh. Did the universe just spawn a second yaoi arc?

Lil Nas X: I ain’t here to steal the spotlight. I’m here to expand the cast. 😈💅

Drake: Same, honestly. I just want someone to cry in a Rolls Royce with. 😢🚘

Kanye gets up slowly, pacing.

Kanye: This is too many feelings for one throne. We need… a throne room.

Jay-Z: Let’s hold auditions… for our hearts. 🎤💘

Lil Nas X: Say less. rips off cape to reveal leather crop top that says “I ❤️ THRONE ENERGY”

Drake: sits on Kanye’s lap uninvited Ye, lemme ghostwrite your emotions real quick. 📝😳

Kanye: blushing violently D-Drake…

Jay-Z: jealous Ayo stopppp. That’s MY unstable creative genius. 😤

Drake: Then put a beat on it.

Lil Nas X: Or a ring. 😌💍

Kanye: Y’ALL NEED TO CHILL—explodes into autotune

🎶 “If you liked it then you should’ve collabed on it~” plays faintly in background 🎶

Narrator (Frank Ocean, from the shadows): In the world of music… sometimes the real drama ain’t in the charts — it’s in the heartbeats. 💔🎶

TO BE CONTINUED...?

[chpare]

EP:01.01

“Yes… Yes? Yes! Yes That’s right, it’s on floor 50 am I correct? Ok so I-”

“Wait so I can just take the elevator now?”

He’s walking around again, slowly rotating his upper torso back and forth as his questions proceed to leak between his lips.

“So I’m supposed to meet- uh- Chadlin? ... In the office in say three hours? Oh I can absolutely do that!”

There he goes again, twirling a bit, quite happy with himself this time around.

“Oh Mr. Quaker! I finally did it! I did it!”

He lifted up a stuffed animal, one that resembles a duck. The feathers were all out of place, with some of them missing here and there. A rough life for Mr. Quacker it seems...

"I'll have to get some of my stuff ready, I don't really know how they do this whole "Grant Key" Business honestly..."

He proceeded around his studio apartment, grabbing various things from personal hygiene to personal drama makers. He pulled out some stuff from under his single twin sized bed frame...

"But I've heard so much about ARC 09 being a place to be if you want to find the truth about anything... Oh Mr. Quacker I'm sure I'll be able to make some friends there too!"

He grabs his double layered cap that splits at the upper front right down the middle, placing it over his shaggy hair proceeding to grab a couple more things...

"Speaking of that Grant Key business, what if they just like give them away? What if I could turn you into a grant key Mr. Quacker?"

Mr. Quacker just stares into the void, helpless to what comes next.

"Now let's see... I have..."

My Tailor made Handy Man Suit

My toothbrush

Journal to log everything I see, feel, hear, and taste. I will be excluding smells because I could never smell things very well

My other toothbrush

My personal hand made guide to ARC 09

My...

The list goes on and on... The world around him seems to fall still as he proceeds to list on the things he is going to bring with him...

23. Fanny Pack for snacks 24. My Journal for super secret lost logs 25. My...

He flips the page over to continue on. As the world around him ticks and tocks in rhythm of his endless listing.

99. My back up toothbrush incase the other one catches fire...

The snapping of fingers slowly creeps into his own little world as the finely set lines and dark colors begin to crack with each snap.

"Sir could you please stop listing all those things and look forward for your picture"

He clicks his tongue slightly on the roof of his mouth... Gazing at the one who just interrupted him. Looking up he realizes, he's at ARC 09 recruitment branch, but not soon enough because the very next nanosecond-

"... Can we take that again? I wasn't ready!" The lady in front of him that was typing away as his photo was being processed let's out a huff of shallow breath. "Mmm nope only one picture per I.D. but you can always edit using our photo station to the left over here."

Klyde's eyes darts around as he doesn't really like using technology... That much... Like at all... He crinkles the paper between his thumb and index finger with a bit of a teeth grind thrown into the mix.

"I er- had this kind of stuff happen before~ Don't worry I have my methods to fix this issue."

Off he goes... In the other direction, away from the photo station and directly towards his next step in the hiring process...

[thiswasinevitableid]

Fall Fun (Indruck)

The runner up of the spooky creatures poll was "person indebted to a pumpkin demon."

Thanks to @bellafarallones2 for playing in this space on discord. This ended up being SFW, but if you need your horny pumpkin demon fix, I got you covered. And you can find even more plant demons here

Indrid Cold sits on the bedroom floor of his tiny studio apartment. The one that’s not up to code and he’s paying for under the table. The one he has just drawn green chalk markings all across the floor of. 

In retrospect, it was always going to come to this. 

Last year, the instant he turned 18, he moved out of his father’s huge, historic house and as far as his limited funds would carry him. Which turned out to be the other side of town. For awhile the combination from his pay at the Dollar General and commissions for his art were enough to keep him afloat. But now someone, he’s almost positive it’s his father, has bought the building he’s living in and jacking up the rent.

Indrid doesn’t have as many tools at his disposal as he’d like. But he’s got a strange  book he found at a thrift store and a willingness to get weird, and that will have to do for now. 

He finishes drawing the circles and lights the candles–orange–and reads the incantation. As the last word leaves his lips, the markings turn to vines, sprouting across the floorboards until he’s sitting in the middle of a pumpkin patch. A massive, orange pumpkin rises from the ground, nearly hits the ceiling before opening with a wet crack. 

A figure steps from within, and for a moment Indrid thinks he’s in a Washington Irving story; the man’s body is topped with a green pumpkin head, its eyes flickering with fire, and he’s clad in a green cape and riding clothes. 

The demon stares down at Indrid, then looks at his own feet. 

“Aw fuck, thought this spell’d been wiped from the books.”

“...excuse me?”

The demon picks pumpkin guts from his sleeves, “This entrance is messy as all get out. Wrote a new one where I just kinda poof into place. Guess you must’ve found a real old book.  Whelp, no point in dwellin’ on it; what can I do for you?”

Indrid cannot decide if the friendly demeanor or the southern accent is more wrong-footing, but he clears his throat and says, “I wish to make a pact, great and terrible one.”

“Okay, shoot.” The demon sets his gloved hands on his hips. 

“I…I want you to make it so that no one owns this building, but that no one makes me own it and, I don’t know, pay taxes on it or something. I just want to live here and be left alone.”

The demon looks around, then makes his way to the door and flips the light switch, leaving Indrid squinting under the bare bulbs.

“Hate to say it, slim, but it kinda looks like no one owns it now.”

“Yes, it does give that impression. But right now it costs me $800 a month with the promise of climbing more.”

The demon whistles, an odd, low tone, “Damn. Yeah, I can do that. But you gotta…uh, one sec” He pulls a faded, green book from his pocket and quickly scans the pages, “lemme see…looks like the best I can do is that favor in exchange for a year's worth of service to me. Bit steep, but we got brackets for this stuff that we gotta follow.”

“Done.” It’ll take him that long to save up for a move anyway. 

The demon holds out a hand, and when Indrid shakes it he feels vines and wood beneath, not skin. As carved eyes flash green flame, he’s glad he didn’t ask for more. 

“Deal’s in place. I’ll be around in a day or two. Gotta figure out how to put you to work.” He winks, then sinks into the floor with a “see you around, slim.”

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

“You gonna come hang out tonight?” Barclay slips an extra cookie into Indrids’ bag as he picks up his order.

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for offering but I will be busy.” 

His friend looks worried enough that Indrid almost feels bad for the fact that what he’ll be busy doing is staring at the wall and wondering what the point of it all is. 

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Aubrey helped Ned clear out some Saturday Night Dead videos, so who knows what she’ll bring to watch.”

Indrid promises to think about it, then trudges home in the chilly air to a chillier apartment. Then it feels as if he’s in a late summer garden, and when he turns the demon is watching him. 

“Got a job for you.”

“Alright.” Indrid tries not to flinch as the creature raises his hand. A snap like breaking branches produces nothing but a cluster of new groceries on his counter. 

“You want me to bake for you?” Indrid picks up the box of pumpkin spice cake mix.

“Not quite. See, what’s gonna happen is you’re gonna make those, put ‘em all in this” a pumpkin shaped cake carrier appears “and go to your buddy’s house. You’re also gonna stop by your neighbor on the way, the nice guy with the funky metal goat statue in his yard.”

Indrid turns, can of cream cheese frosting in hand, “Apologies, dark one, but I’m not sure I see the point of this.”

The demon crosses his arms, “These last few days have been normal, right? How your days usually go?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah, see, you keep up like this, you’re just gonna shrivel up like a sapling in the sun.” The green coat rustles as he steps forward, “you’re lonely, slim. Don’t take demon powers to see that. Or that there are folks who don’t want you to feel that way. So” the demon tosses him an apron with a Death's Head Moth printed on the front, “get that oven on. And quit callin’ me ‘dark one’ and shit like that. You can just call me Duck; it’s a nickname.”

Indrid has a multitude of questions, but decides it’s better not to pester an entity that can turn his veins to vines. 

For some reason, Duck hangs around while he bakes, creaking and gliding from one end of the studio to the other, not speaking but not making Indrid feel as if he has to fill the silence. When he notices that he’s running out of time before movie night, the demon returns and perchings on the kitchen table as vines emerge to help Indrid frost the cupcakes. 

The demon dissipates as soon as he touches the front door. Indrid leaves a smaller container of cupcakes for his neighbor across the way, and the small burn he got from the oven is worth it a hundred times over when Barclay practically rips the door off its hinges letting him in. 

It’s only when he returns home, tired and happy, that he notices the stained, white paint of the bathroom is now a light, homey orange. Like candlelight in a window. 

It makes him smile. 

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

“Duck, can I ask you something?”

“Sure”  The green Jack’O Lantern by his chair replies, soft enough that only he can hear. 

“Why have me do this?” He gestures to the library's fall fair, where he’s currently under a pop-up tent next to a table of face-painting supplies. The children's librarian had been very excited when he’d volunteered his services; apparently none of the other volunteers felt confident in their artistic talents. 

“Are you not havin’ fun?”

“No. Nono, it’s actually rather nice. I was worried it would be overwhelming but it being outside has kept me from feeling trapped. And it’s fun to make the kids happy. I just don’t see how this benefits you.”

“It don’t. Not directly anyway. I was the god of harvest festivals once upon a time. Never cared much for the worship and such; I just liked watching people get all these little moments of joy outta things like pumpkins or turnips. Hell, even leaves. So I try’n do things to encourage that these days, too. Other demons might get all high on the fact they got power, but that’s never been my style. I’m a simple being.”

Indrid smirks, “That grazing board you made me spend three hours assembling yesterday begs to differ. I never should have let you know about Pinterest.”

“Was it or was it not the right thing to eat while watchin’ every single Halloween movie?”

“Oh it definitely was.” He raises one of his brushes, “but maybe I should paint you as a bunny or something, just to keep you humble.”

A vine sneaks through the back of the chair and playfully pinches him, “Careful, slim, hate to have to get handsy in front of all these people.”

Indrid stifles a laugh, “Alright, alright, fair enough.”

“....If you wanted to paint flames on me that’d be sick as hell.”

He dips his brush in the yellow paint, “Your wish is my command.”

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

Duck’s never been accidentally summoned before. Usually he always has time to at least toss on the robe and make himself look like he wasn’t just in the garden or petting his cat when they called. But tonight, he’s just come in from checking on his fall beds, still in his t-shirt and tattered jeans,  when he’s yanked upward and around into the human world. 

He can by smell alone that he’s in Indrid’s place, and as he wobbles he spots the bags of Halloween candy the man bought the night before (“it’s still a few days from now, but I like to make sure I have the good stuff to give away”). What he doesn’t see is his human. 

“‘Drid? You home?”

A ragged gasp comes from the mattress in the far corner of the room, and a face peeks out from  what he assumed was just a pile of blankets. 

“Duck? What” Indrid sniffs and wipes his eyes, “what are you doing here?”

“No fuckin’ clue.” He kneels by the bed, “but I got a hunch that it’s got to do with you hiding away like a bulb waiting for spring.”

Worryingly, Indrid whimpers at that and retreats most of the way back into the blanket. Duck rests a hand on his forehead, petting his silver hair. Without his gloves, it’s obvious how much of his form is plant matter masquerading as a man. But Indrid doesn’t flinch, and so Duck uses the ends of his fingers to gently scritch his scalp. 

“What happened?”

“I, my, my father turned up at the Lodge where Barclay works. A-aubrey and some of my other friends were there too and he yelled at all of them for helping me. He even threatened Barclay to his face, he, I think he was trying to goad him into a fight so he could call the cops on him. Mama threw him out but I, when Barclay called me I could tell how upset and scared he was and it, it’s all my fault.” His face scrunches up and he burrows, without hesitation, against Duck, trying not to cry. 

Duck knows he’s never known a human who he thought looked cute even when he was crying, but now is not the time to bring that up. Instead he wraps his arms around him and adds some vines for extra security. 

“Hey, hey slim it’s okay. It ain’t your fault.”

“But it is. He wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t for me”

“For all we know he would have because he’s a huge fuckin asshole.”

“I just…I’m bad luck. I’m always causing my friends trouble, they’d be, be better off not knowing me.” He’s clinging to Duck’s shirt, and there’s now dirt on his cheek from where it’s been pressed to him. 

“That ain’t true. Know I’m better having you in my life, and I bet they feel the same.”

A final, shuddery sob leaves the human. Then he says, flatly, “I would like to go to bed now.”

“Okay” Duck releases him, “you want me to tuck you in. These are great for that.” The vines wiggle but Indrid just blinks at them. 

“No. Thank you. I will see you soon.”

Duck cups his cheek and wishes him goodnight. Then he stays in the shadows, imperceptible, until he’s certain his human is sound asleep. 

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

Indrid is drunk on pumpkin spice BuzzBalls and practically passed out on a tombstone. 

Still not the worst birthday he’s had. 

Barclay had suggested he come over once trick or treating was done and join everyone for a Halloween/birthday party. He declined. It’s safer for them if he celebrates out here alone. 

He’s drunk enough that it feels like the ground is floating away. And like the world smells like the singed innards of a Jack’O Lantern.

Wait

“Duck?”

“Yep. Came by to bring you some special glow in the dark pumpkins and got kinda worried when I couldn’t find you.” The demon’s voice is blossom-soft as he lowers Indrid into his bed. He didn’t know Duck could teleport him as well. 

“M’fine, I promise.”

“‘Drid, it’s not even 7 pm and you’re falling down.” There’s a wooden buzz, then Duck says, “wait, it’s your birthday?”

Indrid sits up, finds the demon looking at the phone he left on the table.

“Yes. It has never been much fun to celebrate.”

There’s a flurry of vines and leaves, a burst of life, then Indrid’s apartment is full of lit pumpkins and halloween lights, making the walls orange and purple. Duck holds out a small, brown box. Indrid opens it. Inside are gauges for his ears; they’re burnished and beautifully organic looking, as if Duck made them of petrified pumpkin shell. 

“Figure I can do my part to change that.”

Indrid holds the box, looking up at Duck’s strange face. If someone like Duck cares about him, wants him to be happy, even when he’s seen him so pathetic…

“I…I want to go see my friends. I don’t want to celebrate alone.”

“I can help with that.” Duck kneels, rests the cool surface of his forehead against Indrid’s own. After a moment, he feels far more sober. And much braver.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way you could come with me? I like you so much and I want the others to get to know you too…”

“Gimme one sec. Uh, this might be kinda weird.” Duck sets his fingers into his eyes and mouth and pulls. There’s a hollow crunch and crack, and then the pumpkin splits and falls away. In its place is a round, human face with dark hair, a crooked smile, and beautiful, green eyes. 

“Oh” Indrid gasps. 

Duck smiles, “Don’t get too used to it, slim. Takes a lot of power to do this, so I can only pull it off now and then.” He looks down at his hands and the overalls he appeared in, “guess we’ll just tell ‘em my costume was a scarecrow or something. But, uh, how do we explain how we know each other?”

Indrid cautiously leans forward and kisses him. There’s a faint taste of smoke when the demon smiles into the kiss and slips his fingers into Indrid’s hair. 

“Perhaps we could introduce you as my boyfriend?”

Vines hug him close as Duck kisses him again and whispers, “Yeah, slim, let’s do that.”

[korgbelmont]

Cassius Harlow x Stevie Sun

Part 5

Cas was sent to Beachwood to take out some of the remaining Creations, and now he has that chance. But he isn't alone.

Written in the present tense.

Part 4

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations, @jerzwriter

Warnings: Violence, death

Word Count: 1044

Notes: I don’t own these characters, they are the property of Pixelberry Studios.

Harlow created on cooltext.com

This is set a couple years after the events of both books.

A Creation flies out into the open at Cas and he speeds at it. The two clash and Cas wraps himself around an arm, putting all his weight in to break it. The creature howls out as it crashes into the ground.

Tyler - Cas!

Two more fly out and group divides into two. Stevie and Tyler clash with one, while Blake and Donovan go up against the other. Getting onto his feet, Cas laces his fingers and brings his hands down onto the Creation's head, knocking it out.

Cas - Stay down.

He turns to where the others are working against the other two and watches as Tyler uses his football skills to ground it. Stevie throws a series of punches, leaving it unconscious. Donovan throws his fist into the last conscious one, but when his fist makes contact with it's head, there is a cracking sound. The creature drops and Donovan looks at his hand, and begins shaking.

Donovan - I... I killed it...

Cas - Yup.

Cas grabs the one Stevie and Tyler knocked out, and twists it's head round with a sickening crack before dropping it.

Tyler - I think I might be sick.

Cas - Can't risk having three of them alive.

Cas walks over to the Creation he knocked out and hefts it up against a tree. The Creation growls as it comes to, eyes locking with Cas.

Creation - You... You killed him. Our Creator.

Cas - Actually that would be someone else. But I did play a part. Why have the Elders sent me to hunt you now? After two years.

Creation - How should I know?

Cas - Because you're why I'm here! Did you kill someone?

The Creation snaps out and Cas headbutts it, knocking it out again. Sighing, he stands rubbing at where his head made contact before turning to Donovan.

Cas - I'm sorry you had to kill. I had hoped that the only one doing any killing would be me.

Donovan - I don't know how to feel...

Blake puts their arm around Donovan, giving him a squeeze.

Cas - You all go home. I need to deal with these things. And make a call.

A couple days later, Cas stands outside his place as Astoria walks up.

Cas - Astoria.

Astoria - Where are they?

Cas - In a cave.

Astoria - All dead?

Cas - Apart from one.

Astoria - You were ordered to kill all of them.

Cas - Don't you want to know why now?

Astoria - They're being removed form the equation. It doesn't matter as to why now.

Astoria speeds off and Cas chases after her. Coming to a stop at the cave where Cas dumped the bodies, Astoria takes out a talisman and aims it at the bodies. She finds the one Cas left alive and rips it's throat out just as Cas catches up.

Cas - Damn it!

Astoria - This is no longer your problem, Cassius. Just leave and pack your things.

Cas snarls at Astoria as the Elder takes out a talisman, pointing it at the Creations. It glows for a few seconds and once it fades, all that remains is ash.

Astoria - It's over.

Cas - Now hang on--

Astoria - Enough!

Cas chuckles slightly.

Cas - You and Lewyn are so ignorant to the bigger picture sometimes. Perhaps if you two weren't always bickering, so many would still be alive like Anastasia and the Flagstone Coven.

At the mention of the name, Astoria fires her palm at Cas, but rather than hitting him, her hand is caught by a young woman.

Gabbie - No.

Cas - Gabbie?!

Astoria - What is this?

Gabbie - Leave Beachwood. Now.

Astoria steps back as wind picks up.

Cas - What... Uh, Gabbie.

Gabbie leviates slightly, putting herself at eye level with Astoria.

Gabbie - Never return.

She releases Astoria and the Vampire scoffs before looking to Cas.

Astoria - Consider your exile permanent.

The Elder Vampire speeds away, leaving Cas with Gabbie.

Gabbie - You okay?

Cas - Always. That was a little bit on the scary side though with the wind thing.

Gabbie - Call it a flare for the dramatic. Sorry about extending your exile.

Cas - I think it might be for the best. Especially after that.

Gabbie - Maybe.

Cas - Thank you. For everything. I promise to return the favour and help free you.

Gabbie - I believe you.

Returning to the town, Cas takes a deep breath before knocking on the door to Stevie's home. Waiting a few moments, he steps back as the door opens and Stevie smiles.

Stevie - Hey, Cas.

Cas - Hi.

Stevie - Can I help you?

Cas - I just wanted to let you know that it's all over.

Stevie - Oh...

Her expression falls as she steps out, closing the door behind her.

Stevie - So does this mean you're leaving?

Cas - Actually, no. There was a disagreement between Astoria and I. So my "exile" is now an actual thing and permanent.

Stevie - You mean...?

Cas - I'm gonna stick around.

With a wide grin, Stevie throws her arms around the Vampire, knocking him off balance.

Stevie - Good. Because I wanted to ask you out on a date.

Cas - That so?

Stevie - Uh huh.

Cas - I think it could be fun.

Parting, Stevie takes Cas' hand in hers and they head out.

That evening, Cas arrives back at his home after his date with Stevie, looking around at all the boxes he never unpacked. Locking the door behind him, he begins unpacking, letting himself accept that Beachwood is now his home, and that he has begun a new chapter in his life.

Cas - (Gabbie was right.)

As he unpacks, he thinks about the one thing he has left to do. The promise he made to Gabbie. Grabbing his phone, he sends a message into the group chat with Stevie, Blake, Donovan, and Tyler.

Cas (T) - There's still one thing left to do. Meet me at Gabbie's grave tomorrow.

Tyler (T) - I'll be there.

Blake (T) - Same.

Donovan (T) - Just say when.

Stevie (T) - What they said.

[godofcreatitivity]

Chapter 21:  The rebellion's new trump card!

One Piece the Movie

(the following is a nonprofit fan based parody any characters from one piece is owned by Eiichiro Oda, Toei Animation Co., Ltd., any characters from super Mario are owned by Nintendo, any characters from troll hunters, are owned by DreamWorks and universal

Disclaimer

Some of the characters found in this story and / or universe do not belong to me, but are intellectual property of their respective owners. Any original characters in this story are my intellectual property.

Story nonprofit created fan and fan without compromising the original work.)

Chapter 21:  The rebellion's new trump card! 

The Swordsman then turned away from the little girl, he then looked around at the condition of the camp.

 The leader of the elves, Orrian, was now snapping all of his subordinates out of their days and ordering them to handle the fires around them from what he was seeing..

 There was still the problem with the current condition of the camp

 Which won't be much of a camp anymore if they didn't get this fire situation under control 

Fires still burned across the camp, the goblins’ siege leaving behind a trail of destruction.

Now finished with his fighting the elves, exhausted and still recovering from the sheer madness of what just happened, were scrambling to control the flames.

Ruven was using water buckets, Bellas and Jacob were stamping out embers, and Khilseith, still low on magic, was trying to summon enough energy to create a spell that could put out the bigger fires.

"We need to stop this before the whole camp burns down!" Orrian shouted, directing the others.

But even with all their efforts, it was clear they weren’t going to be able to control the fire fast enough.

Zoro then made his way over to the center of the camp.

 It was there when he cracked his neck, “Tch. Guess it's up to me to fix everything huh.”

Everyone turned toward himHearing him and wondering what he was doing.

“What do you mean ‘Fix everything’?” Alicia snapped, still breathless. “The camp’s burning down, how are you possibly going to be able to fix this?!”

Zoro sighed and rested his hand on the hilt of one of his swords. “Oh yeah hang on”

Then, he unsheathed his blade.

The elves all stared.

Oh no oh no no no no no was he about to do what they think he was about to do?

Everyone else began to duck in fear of what the swordsman's next move was about to be.

 the only one not surprisingly who didn't seem to understand what was going on with Jacob who looked at everyone dumbfounded. 

“What is he—” Jacob started, but Alicia grabbed his arm  before quickly pulling him to the ground with her, “Move now.”

Zoro exhaled slowly.

His stance shifted ever so slightly.

Then—he swung.

(FWOOOOOOSH!)

With one massive horizontal swing, Zoro’s blade sliced through the air—but instead of cutting an enemy, it created a shockwave so powerful it blasted the flames away.

A gust of compressed wind followed the path of his sword, tearing through the fire like a storm. The flames shuddered, then died out almost instantly, as if blown away by an unseen force.

The elves staggered backward, feeling the wind ripple through their hair.

The fire was gone.

Everything fell into silence.

Alicia’s jaw dropped.

Ruven blinked.

Khilseith, the actual mage, looked down at his hands—then back at Zoro.

“…Did he just use a sword to put out a fire?”

Orrian took a slow step forward, looking around the camp.

The flames were completely extinguished.

No magic.

No buckets of water.

Just one sword swing.

Alicia clutched her head. “By the Gods did that just happen?”

Zoro clicked his sword back into its sheath and rolled his shoulder.

“There. Problem solved.”

Vanellope, standing nearby, had sparkles in her eyes.

“…Okay, that was officially one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.

Jacob let out a long breath and collapsed onto a crate.

“Well, uh. Good work, everyone?”

Orrian was still staring at Zoro like he was trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

“…How?” he finally muttered.

Zoro shrugged. “Dunno. I just did it.”

Alicia threw her hands up.

“OF COURSE HE JUST DID IT.”

Zoro sheathed his swords with a satisfied click, his expression unreadable as he turned back to the elves. “Guess that’s taken care of,” he said casually, as though he hadn’t just turned the tide of the battle single-handedly.

Vanellope ran toward him, her face lighting up with relief. “Zoro! That was amazing!” she shouted, practically bouncing with excitement.

He glanced down at her, his usual smirk returning

The battlefield fell into silence.

For a long moment, everyone just stared at Zoro.

Their minds were still reeling from what they had just witnessed—the impossible speed, the overwhelming strength, the sheer insanity of a single human taking down a champion goblin and wiping out an entire army like it was nothing.

Even the air itself felt different, as if the battlefield was still processing what had just happened.

Then—chaos.

Jacob and Bellas immediately made a dash for Zoro completely ecstatic from what they had just seen.

“HOW THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?!” Jacob’s voice pierced through the quiet like an arrow. He practically launched himself at Zoro, stopping just short of grabbing him by the shoulders. “THAT WAS INSANE! YOU WERE JUST—AND THEN YOU—AND THE FLAMES—WHAT?!”

Bellas, normally more reserved, was right behind Jacob, nodding furiously,“Y-Yeah! I’ve never seen anything like that! You—You just CUT THROUGH THE FIRE! Who does that?!”

Alicia approached too, but unlike the other two, her arms were crossed, her sharp eyes still analyzing everything that had just unfolded.

She gave Zoro a once-over, then exhaled.

“Yeah I'm going to have to agree with that question too,” she said,“You mentioning that you were this strong would have been beyond impressive And nice to know so I wouldn't leave you in a tent.”

Jacob whipped his head around.

“BEYOND IMPRESSIVE?! THAT WAS—THAT WAS INSANE, ALICIA! HE MOVED SO FAST! HE CUT THROUGH THAT THING LIKE IT WAS PAPER!”

“Yes I saw, Jacob. I was there.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unlike you, I’m not going to lose my mind over it.”

Jacob gasped. “HOW ARE YOU SO CALM?! THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING! WHAT IF HE’S SOME KIND OF DEMIGOD OR—OR A DRAGON IN HUMAN FORM?!”

Zoro, who had been silent the whole time, let out a long sigh.

“You guys are loud.”

Jacob spun back around. “LOUD? LOUD?! OF COURSE I’M LOUD! I JUST WATCHED YOU—”

Ruven clapped a hand over Jacob’s mouth to stop him from having an actual meltdown before then carefully pulling him off of The Swordsman.

The rest of the elves were still standing back, unsure how to react. Some were whispering among themselves, others were simply staring at Zoro in disbelief.

Orrian, always the leader, took a steady step forward.

“I think we all owe you our thanks,” he said, his voice level despite the obvious shock still lingering in his expression. “Without you, this camp would have fallen.”

Zoro shrugged.

“No big deal.”

Jacob tore Ruven’s hand away from his mouth.

“NO BIG DEAL?!”

Bellas aggressively nodded. “It was a HUGE DEAL.”

Zoro looked genuinely confused,“Why? You guys fought too.”

Alicia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.“Zoro.”

He turned to her as she called his name,“Hm?”

She gestured toward the battlefield. “You just single-handedly wiped out an entire goblin horde, killed their strongest warrior like it was nothing, and put out an entire fire with a sword swing.”

Jacob jumped back in. “DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF?!”

Bellas gasped. “Oh my god, wait—YOU WERE ASLEEP FIVE MINUTES BEFORE THIS.”

Zoro blinked, “…Yeah?”

The three of them groaned in unison.

“HOW?!”

Zoro scratched the back of his head,“I dunno, I was just tired.”

Jacob clutched his chest. “I can’t do this. I can’t process this.”

Vanellope, who had been standing off to the side giggling to herself, finally stepped in.

She grinned up at Zoro. “They’re just not used to someone as cool as you, big guy.”

Zoro smirked. “Yeah I'm starting to pick up on that”

Jacob Then spoke up again as he continued to question The Swordsman. 

“Okay. No. No, no, no, no, NO.” He threw his hands in the air, stepping forward. “I REFUSE to just move past this. HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Zoro blinked. “Do what?”

“THAT.” Jacob flailed his arms toward the battlefield. “Everything you just did! The disappearing! The cutting fire! The—THE GIANT GOBLIN CHAMPION! You weren’t even TRYING!”

Zoro scratched his head. “I mean, yeah. It wasn’t that hard.”

Jacob made a choked noise. Bellas grabbed his arm, as if to keep him from passing out.

Alicia, though much calmer, crossed her arms. Her sharp eyes were locked on Zoro like a hunter studying a dangerous animal.

“I have to agree with Jacob,” she said. “What exactly ARE you, Zoro? You’re human, aren’t you?”

Zoro gave her a flat lookAs he then poked on his cheek and felt around his body a little bit. “Yeah I mean at least I feel like a human you know eat sleep bleed drink all that good stuff.”

Jacob let out a strangled laugh. “You say that like it explains anything!”

Bellas, still wide-eyed, nodded furiously. “Seriously! Humans are strong, sure, but NOT like that! You moved faster than ANYTHING I’ve ever seen! Even our best warriors couldn’t keep up!”

Ruven, usually more composed, spoke up. “And you cut through enchanted armor. That shouldn’t be possible.”

Khilseith, still panting from using so much magic, fixed Zoro with a calculating stare. “And the fire. No normal sword can cut through flames. Especially not one wielded by a human like you”

Zoro sighed. He was starting to regret winning so easily,“What’s with all the questions? I just did what I always do.”

“What you always d-”,Jacob threw up his hands. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”

Vanellope, standing by Zoro’s side, was grinning. She had been waiting for this moment.

“Oh, this is nothing.” She giggled. “You guys haven’t even seen him fight for real yet.”

The elves stared at her.

“THAT WASN’T ‘FOR REAL’?!” Bellas shouted, her voice cracking.

Zoro shrugged. “Didn’t need to go all out.Would have been just a waste of energy and effort”

Jacob looked like he was about to have an actual breakdown. “This can’t be happening.”

Orrian, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his expression serious.

“Zoro.” His voice cut through the chaos of the others. “I need to understand. I’ve trained warriors for years, fought alongside some of the strongest elves in our ranks. I have never—never—seen a human fight like that. What kind of training have you gone through?”

Zoro considered the question.

Finally, he sighed. “I trained with a great swordsman when I was a kid. Then, I got stronger by fighting people stronger than me. That’s all.”

Jacob stared at him like he had just said the sky was green.

“THAT’S ALL?!”

Zoro frowned. “What do you want me to say? I trained a lot, I fought a lot, now I’m strong.”

Khilseith narrowed his eyes. “You’re underselling it.”

Alicia tilted her head, watching him carefully. “It’s not just your skill. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Zoro glanced at her. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to explain.

Then again, they had just fought together.

He sighed again. “Alright, fine. You guys wanna know?”

The elves all leaned in.

Zoro smirked. “I’m gonna be the greatest swordsman in the world.”

Silence.

Jacob blinked.

Bellas tilted her head.

Khilseith didn't care. 

Ruven and Orrian exchanged a glance.

Alicia, to her credit, didn’t look surprised.

“And?” she prompted.

Zoro grinned. “And that means I have to be stronger than anyone else who picks up a sword. So I train until I win. That’s all there is to it.”

The elves were stunned.

They all literally just stared at him.

 That couldn't be the source to all his strength just wanting to be the best

 no no no no no no no no no no no no no no 

There had to be something else there should be something else there needs to be something else 

Zoro was treating his godlike skill like it was nothing but a requirement for his goal.

This quite literally made 0 sense how are they supposed to compute with an answer like that.

Jacob was gripping his hair. “You’re telling me you’re this strong—because you want to be the best?!”

“Yep.”

Bellas clutched her chest. “I think I need to sit down.”

Alicia, still watching Zoro, exhaled slowly. “So you’re not some kind of supernatural being. You’re just… someone who refuses to lose.”

Zoro nodded. “That about sums it up.”

Orrian crossed his arms. “And you’re saying you’re not even at your strongest yet?”

Zoro chuckled. “Not even close.”

The elves couldn’t process it.

A human. Stronger than an entire goblin horde. Stronger than their best warriors. And he still wasn’t at his peak?

This this quite literally made no sense

 Like this felt like a broken track record of not making sense.

 How could this possibly be his only reason for getting stronger for even being this strong to begin with.

Orrian, still catching his breath from the battle, wiped the sweat from his brow. His sharp, calculating gaze remained locked on Zoro. 

The camp was still smoldering, the fires recently put out, but even amidst the destruction, the tension in the air was thick.

It wasn’t just the battle that had left everyone shaken. It was the man standing before them.

Zoro stood there, arms crossed, his swords still at his hip, looking completely unbothered by the storm of emotions swirling around him. Like he hadn’t just turned the tide of an entire battle alone.

Orrian inhaled deeply. He needed answers.

He turned to Alicia, his tone firm. “Did you even think to get proper information on them before bringing them here?”

Alicia pursed her lips, shifting slightly as she shrugged her shoulders. “…I got the basics.”

Orrian exhaled through his nose. “Clearly not enough.” He stepped forward, stopping just a few feet in front of Zoro.

“Who are you really?” His voice was steady but sharp. “Where are you from? How did a human like you become strong enough to cut through fire, armor, and an entire army of goblins like they were nothing?”

Zoro sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Man, you guys sure are dramatic.”

Jacob threw up his hands. “EXCUSE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE CONCERNED THAT YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A GOD!”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “Tch. I already told you, I’m human.”

Orrian wasn’t satisfied. His expression remained firm, his tone unwavering. “Then explain yourself properly. We deserve to know who we’ve brought into our camp.”

Zoro studied him for a moment. The guy was serious.

He glanced at Vanellope beside him, who gave him a little shrug. “Might as well, big guy. They’re gonna keep hounding you until you do.”

Zoro sighed again and finally spoke.

“Name’s Roronoa Zoro. I’m a pirate.”

Silence.

A pirate

Like the ones that dress in those ridiculous and slightly dirty outfits

Travel amongst the sea on a ship

Searching for booty or treasure whatever it is

Which always have the need to say ARG with a little parrot on the shoulder

That was what he was 

Orrian and the elves starred.

Jacob choked. “I—WHAT?”

Bellas blinked rapidly. “D-Did he just say—?”

Alicia’s expression flickered with intrigue. “A pirate?”

Khilseith Couldn't help but start snickering from snickering he began laughing holding his stomach tightly at that ridiculous answer he was just given.

Ruven folded his arms, his brow furrowing. “That… makes no sense. Pirates don’t fight like you. Nor do they even act the way you do either”

Orrian’s frown deepened. “You’re telling me you’re nothing but a common sea criminal?”

Zoro’s eye twitched. “Tch. ‘Common’? Don’t lump me in with just any pirate.” He crossed his arms, standing tall. “I’m part of the crew of the future King of the Pirates.”

Silence. Again.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “The… what now?”

King of the Pirates

What the hell is that? 

There could be a king of the Pirates, what ?  

What would the Royal throne be a treasure chest or an entire ship? 

Zoro smirked. “Monkey D. Luffy. He’s my captain. And one day, he’s gonna be the King of the Pirates.”

Jacob looked like his soul was leaving his body. “WHAT AM I EVEN HEARING RIGHT NOW?!”

Bellas had her hands on her head. “Pirates? Kings? This is too much.”

Orrian, still trying to piece together the absurdity of the situation, rubbed his temples. “So let me get this straight… You’re part of a pirate crew. And your captain is some man who claims he’s going to be a king?”

Zoro nodded. “Damn right.”

Khilseith’s curiosity was starting to repeat itself,” What is there going to be like some sort of weird pirate hierarchy or something”?

Zoro then shook his head.” Nah my Captain's not really with the ruling over people thing”, 

Alicia, still watching him intently, spoke up. “And you? What’s your goal in all of this?”

Zoro’s smirk grew. “I told you already.”

He stepped forward, his presence suddenly overwhelming,“I’m going to be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

His words hung heavy in the air, not as a boast, but as an undeniable fact.

Alicia’s gaze flickered with something unreadable. Ruven clenched his jaw. Khilseith narrowed his eyes.

Jacob, however, was not handling this well.

“OH GOOD, SO YOU’RE ALSO TRYING TO BE THE BEST AT SOMETHING.” He threw his hands up. “FANTASTIC. WHAT ELSE? CAN YOU BREATHE UNDERWATER? DO YOU HAVE SECRET DRAGON BLOOD? MAYBE YOU’RE A LOST ELVEN PRINCE TOO?!”

Zoro glanced at him. “…I think you need to calm down.”

Jacob looked ready to scream.

Orrian, however, Placed his hand on Jacob's mouth to prevent him from doing such a thing and to also shut him up too,  because he still had more questions, “You’ve mentioned your captain, but what about the rest of your crew? Are they all like you?”

Zoro chuckled. “Not exactly. But yeah, they’re strong.” He thought for a moment. “You’d probably be the most interested in Luffy. He’s the strongest of us all.”

Alicia tilted her head. “Stronger than you?”

Zoro smirked. “Oh yeah.”

That statement alone was horrifying to everyone who had just watched Zoro single-handedly destroy an army.

“That’s not possible,” Orrian muttered. “If he’s stronger than you, then what the hell is he?”

Zoro’s smirk widened. “A monster.”

Jacob and Bellas nearly collapsed.

Orrian shook his head. “And where is your crew now?”

Zoro shrugged. “Lost. Again.  Well actually technically we're on vacation well the others are but we all are but me and my Captain were placed together since we drew straws on who would watch over the ship and the captain and I was the one who got the shortest straw so I'm stuck watching the ship witn my Captain. So they had the pleasure of not getting dragged to another world through a green pipe like me and my Captain”

The elves all shared a look.

Khilseith rubbed his temples. “You mean to tell me… you’re this strong, and yet you still get lost?”

Zoro scowled. “Shut up.”

Alicia smirked. “I see. So you’re strong, but not perfect.”

Jacob let out a deranged laugh. “THAT’S HIS ONLY WEAKNESS? HE SUCKS AT DIRECTIONS?”

Bellas wiped her face. “I can’t believe this.”

Orrian  Stare at him with a blank face,” Yeah I'm going to need a bit more of a detailed explanation on your current situation just so we can then figure out what to do with you”

Zoro crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest post, eyeing the group of elves surrounding him. He could feel the weight of their stares—curiosity, confusion, disbelief. The battle had proven beyond any doubt that he was no ordinary human, but now they wanted more. They wanted to know why he was here. How he got here.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Tch. Alright, fine. I’ll tell you what happened.” He glanced at Alicia, then at Orrian. “But you’d better listen closely, ‘cause I’m not repeating myself.”

The elves exchanged glances before nodding. Even Jacob—who had been bouncing off the walls with excitement—managed to settle down, albeit barely.

Zoro stretched his neck before speaking. “We weren’t supposed to be here. Me, Luffy, and Vanellope—we were on our ship, the Thousand Sunny. That’s where all this started.”

Orrian narrowed his eyes. “And where exactly was this ship?”

“In my Captain's hometown,” Zoro answered simply. “On the docks of the same said town to be more Frank.” He let that sink in before continuing. “We were minding our own business when some bastard in white showed up out of nowhere.”

Jacob raised a hand. “Wait, some guy just appeared on your ship? Like—poof?”

“Yeah,” Zoro confirmed. “Didn’t see him coming, didn’t hear him board. One second it was just us, next thing we know, he’s standing there like he owns the place.”

Ruven frowned. “And you’re saying this wasn’t some sort of illusion or trick?”

Zoro shook his head. “Nope. He was real, alright. Too damn real.” His fingers briefly tightened around the hilt of one of his swords. “Luffy was ready to knock his teeth out the second he laid eyes on him.”

Alicia’s expression remained unreadable, but she leaned in slightly. “And you?”

Zoro smirked. “I was ready to cut him in half.”

Bellas and Jacob exchanged glances.

“Did he say cut him in half?” Bellas whispered.

“He definitely said cut him in half,” Jacob muttered.

Zoro ignored them and continued. “Anyway, the guy acted all calm, like he wasn’t worried about us at all. Called Luffy by name, too. Knew exactly who he was and even grabbed his hat.”

Orrian’s eyebrows rose slightly. “He took something from your captain?”

Zoro nodded. “Yeah, but Luffy got it back real quick. He didn’t like that one bit.”

“I knew it!” Vanellope suddenly interjected, grinning. “I knew you were gonna mention the hat part! Luffy never lets anyone mess with his hat!”

Zoro snorted. “Damn right. That hat’s important to him.” He turned back to the others. “Anyway, we told the guy to start talking, and he did. Said he was looking for Luffy. Said his ‘employer’ was interested in him and wanted to meet.”

Ruven frowned. “And who was this employer?”

Zoro’s smirk faded. “He went by a couple of names, but the most important one was The Butcher.”

A heavy silence followed.

Jacob let out a nervous laugh. “Haha… oh, that’s a great name. Very reassuring.”

Orrian folded his arms. “I assume this wasn’t just a casual invitation.”

Zoro shook his head. “Nah. He told us straight up—we either went with him, or he’d drag us there by force. And if we resisted, he’d burn our ship, maybe even an entire village, to the ground.”

Khilseith’s expression darkened. “And you refused.”

“Obviously,” Zoro scoffed. “We’re not the type to roll over just because some guy in fancy clothes tells us to.” He exhaled. “That’s when the real fight started.”

Alicia’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And how did that go?”

Zoro glanced at Vanellope, who was already smirking.

“Not gonna lie,” she said, “he kinda kicked their butts for a bit.”

Zoro sighed, annoyed. “We were holding back.”

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Holding back?”

Zoro nodded. “We didn’t know how strong he was yet. Didn’t wanna go all-out right away, especially not when we were still recovering from another fight earlier.”

Bellas folded her arms. “But that didn’t last long, did it?”

Zoro shook his head. “Nope. After he started messing with us—blocking my swords like they were nothing, tossing Luffy around, pulling some weird portal tricks—we knew we had to take him seriously.”

Jacob leaned forward. “Wait, portal tricks?”

Zoro exhaled. “Yeah. The guy had some kind of ability that let him open these black holes. He could absorb attacks into them and then shoot them back at us from different directions.”

Orrian looked thoughtful. “That’s an incredibly dangerous power…”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Zoro muttered. “Our own attacks got turned against us. Luffy was dodging my air slashes, and I had to dodge his punches. It was a mess.”

Jacob whistled. “Okay, now I get why you were having trouble.”

Alicia frowned slightly. “But you won in the end.”

“Damn right we did,” Zoro smirked. “We caught him off guard. I grabbed Vanellope while Luffy threw him into the ocean.”

Bellas blinked. “You threw him into the ocean? Why would you do that”?

Silence.

Wait Jacob Raised a brow to something,” Hold up what the hell is a devil fruit user”?

O Zoro blinked. Oh. Right. He had been so caught up in everything—the war, the rebellion, the whole "trolls taking over the world" thing—that he’d completely forgotten one minor detail:

Jacob had his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You just threw that out there like it’s supposed to mean something. So what the hell is a Devil Fruit user?”

Zoro sighed, rubbing the back of his head. How the hell do I even explain this? He wasn’t exactly the best teacher. That was more Luffy’s thing. Or Robin’s.

Still, he could at least cover the basics.

He glanced at Vanellope. “You wanna take this one, or should I?”

Vanellope grinned, rocking on her heels. “Ohhh I'm good, Mr. Swordsman. You got this.”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “Tch. Fine.”

He turned back to Jacob and the others. “Alright. So, in my world, there are these things called Devil Fruits. They’re weird-looking, cursed fruits that grant people superhuman abilities. The catch? Once you eat one, you lose the ability to swim. The ocean straight-up rejects you, and you sink like a rock. Hence why we threw that white suited guy into the ocean.”

Jacob blinked. “...So you get powers, but water kills you?”

Zoro shrugged. “Basically.”

Khilseith scoffed. “That’s a hell of a trade-off.”

Alicia narrowed her eyes. “And you—are you one of these ‘Devil Fruit users’?”

Zoro shook his head. “Nope. I don’t have one.”

Ruven arched a brow. “Then why bring it up?”

Zoro sighed. “Because my captain—the one that white-suited guy is looking for? He has one. And so do a bunch of other people from my world.”

Elrohir leaned forward, intrigued. “What kind of abilities are we talking about?”

Zoro exhaled. “Depends on the fruit. There’s all kinds—some let you turn into animals, some let you control elements, some turn your body into weird stuff like rubber or smoke. Some are insanely powerful, and some are just… stupid.”

Bellas’ eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait—you’re saying there are people out there who can turn into fire or control the weather just because they ate a fruit?”

Zoro nodded. “Yeah. And my captain? He ate the Gomu Gomu no Mi—the Rubber-Rubber Fruit. It turned his whole body into rubber.”

Jacob blinked. “So… what, he just stretches?”

Vanellope giggled. “Yeah pretty much.”

Zoro smirked. “Luffy’s not just stretchy—he’s damn near unstoppable. Punches bounce off him, bullets don’t do squat, and he can stretch his limbs like a slingshot. And that’s just the basics. He’s figured out a bunch of different ways to fight using his fruit. He can make his fists as big as boulders, move at insane speeds, and even—”

Zoro stopped himself. They don’t need to know about any of his Gears or haki And to be honest he might not even know how to explain that part or that new form that Luffy supposedly got while they were in Wano but Zoro was kind of unconscious for that so he didn't really know what everyone was talking about during that time.

He crossed his arms. He'll have to explain that part when the time comes. “Point is, Devil Fruits make people really dangerous.”

Ruven frowned. “And this… white-suited individual. The one looking for your captain. For what reason?”

Zoro’s expression darkened. “I don’t know.  like I said before he said his employer the butcher needed to meet him for some reason but he didn't really do a good job of explaining what.”

Alicia rubbed her temples. “So let me get this straight. There’s a whole world out there where people can eat cursed fruit to gain ridiculous powers, but it also makes them weak to water?”

Zoro nodded.

Khilseith muttered, “That sounds like the most broken magic system I’ve ever heard of.”

Jacob was still stuck on something else. “Okay, but like… can you just eat multiple fruits? Like stack powers?”

Zoro shook his head. “Nope. You eat a second one, you die. Your body just straight-up explodes.”

Jacob took a step back. “Oh. Yeah. That’s… horrifying.”

Bellas still looked skeptical. “And you swear this isn’t some insane myth?”

Vanellope cut in. “Ohhh no. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. People stretch, turn into fire, make earthquakes, all of it.”

Hell she even demonstrated herself by literally glitching right in front of them then glitching black to Zorro ,”Some of us even glitch ourselves to different locations “.

Orrian, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke. “And your captain… he’s a Devil Fruit user. But he’s not here.”

Zoro’s jaw tightened. “No. He’s not here, he went into another green pipe”. 

There was a bit more silence as everyone was trying to take in the information they were being told before Orrian’s expression hardened. “Explain.”

Zoro sighed. “We thought he was a Devil Fruit user. I mean, come on—portal powers? A body tough enough that my sword couldn’t even cut him?” He shook his head. “But when we tossed him into the ocean, he didn’t sink.”

Ruven’s eyes widened. “You mean… he didn’t drown?”

Zoro nodded. “That’s right. He came back. Drenched, pissed, but fine. That’s when I realized—he wasn’t just some Devil Fruit user. He was something else.”

Jacob looked like he was about to pass out. “I—I knew it! I knew there was no way this guy was normal!”

Bellas shook her head in disbelief. “And what happened next?”

Zoro exhaled sharply. “He gave us one last warning. Then he blasted the water with something—and the next thing we knew, the entire sea beneath us turned into a massive whirlpool. But it wasn’t just any whirlpool.”

Alicia’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Zoro’s eye narrowed. “It was glowing. Warping. Like it wasn’t just pulling us under—it was taking us somewhere.”

Vanellope raised her hand. “It was a warp hole,” she added.

Alicia frowned. “A warp hole…?”

“Yeah,” Zoro muttered. “We tried everything to stop it. Luffy grabbed onto the docks, me and Vanellope tried steering the ship away, but nothing worked. We got sucked in.”

Jacob looked between them. “And then?”

Zoro shrugged. “Then we ended up here. Through that warp pipe you guys keep telling us about the green one.”

Orrian rubbed his chin. “So… you’re saying that whoever this man was, he had the power to teleport you across dimensions?”

“Looks that way,” Zoro said simply.

Alicia stepped back, digesting the information. “That’s… unbelievable.”

Jacob pointed at him. “Says The girl who isn't the guy who just cut through a goblin champion like it was paper.”

Bellas sighed. “So let me get this straight… you guys got attacked by some freaky teleporting warrior, got sucked into a portal that led you through a warp pipe Zone, and just landed here?”

“Pretty much,” Zoro said with a smirk.

Alicia tapped her fingers against her arm. “And what about this Luffy? Where is he?”

Zoro’s smirk faded. “Dunno. That’s the problem.”

A tense silence followed.

Orrian exhaled. “So you’re looking for him.”

“Yeah,” Zoro muttered. His grip tightened on his swords.

The silence that followed Zoro’s explanation was deafening. The elves exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions shifting from curiosity to something much graver. They knew something—something they weren’t saying.

Zoro didn’t miss it. His sharp eye caught the tension in their stances, the way their gazes flickered between one another, as if silently debating how much to reveal. They know something I don’t.

Alicia was the first to break the silence, her hand subconsciously resting against the hilt of her blade. “We should discuss this in the meeting tent,” she said, her tone firmer than before. “There’s… a lot you need to know.”

Zoro narrowed his eye, scrutinizing her. “That so?” He crossed his arms. “And here I thought I already had enough on my plate.”

Alicia exhaled sharply. “You don’t.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and gestured for them to follow. The elves, sensing the weight of the discussion ahead, quietly moved in formation toward the center of the camp.

Jacob was unusually silent—likely still processing everything he had just witnessed. Ruven walked with his arms folded, his brows furrowed in deep thought. Bellas stole glances at Zoro every few moments, as if reevaluating the swordsman’s existence altogether.

Vanellope, who had been clinging to Zoro’s sleeve up until now, finally spoke up. “Uh… why do I feel like this is gonna be really, really bad?” she muttered.

Zoro glanced down at her. “Because it probably is.”

She groaned. “Great. That’s exactly what I didn’t wanna hear.”

They could finish cleaning up everything from the battle later. Right now it was time to get the full story from both sides. 

(Inside the war tent) 

The interior of the tent was dimly lit, the warm glow of lanterns casting long shadows along the fabric walls. A map of the region lay spread out over a large wooden table in the center, marked with lines, notes, and various symbols. It was clear that this rebellion had been operating for a long time.

Orrian and Alicia stood at one end of the table, while Zoro, Vanellope, and the others positioned themselves around it.

Zoro exhaled, resting one elbow against the table. “Alright. We’re here. Start talking.”

Alicia hesitated for a moment before speaking. “The Butcher you mentioned… he’s not just any warlord.” She turned toward the table, her fingers tracing a deep gouge in the wood. “His name is Bular—the King of the Trolls, the God of War, the Crusher of Skulls. He is the ruler of the Dark Lands and the leader of one of the most feared empires in all of existence.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed slightly. “Trolls, huh?” His grip on his sword tightened slightly. “Can’t say I’ve met any before. Hell there was a time where I didn’t even think they were real.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Orrian muttered.

Alicia continued. “Bular’s conquest spans multiple worlds—kingdoms, civilizations, entire realms have been reduced to nothing but ruins under his rule.” Her eyes darkened. “And the worst part? No one has ever been able to defeat him.”

Jacob, unable to contain himself, finally blurted out. “Yeah, and now we find out you got dumped straight into his backyard.” He pointed at Zoro. “I mean, first you show up out of nowhere, now we learn that some guy working for Bular sent you here? What are the odds?”

Zoro grunted. “Doesn’t matter.” He turned his gaze back to Alicia. “I don’t care how many titles this guy has. What I care about is why I’m here. What’s Luffy got to do with this?”

Alicia frowned. “That’s what we don’t know.”

Zoro’s gaze sharpened. “You’re telling me you don’t know why some freak in a white suit dragged me and Luffy into this world?”

Alicia shook her head. “No. But what we do know is that anyone working under Bular has only one purpose—to serve him.” She leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. “That means whatever he wants with your captain, it’s not good.”

Ruven nodded grimly. “Bular doesn’t ‘invite’ people to meet him. He takes them. And if he sent an agent after Luffy, it means he’s already decided he needs him for something.”

Vanellope frowned. “But Luffy’s not from this world—none of us are! So why would a big, scary guy want him?”

Zoro exhaled, running a hand through his green hair. “Tch… beats me.”

Orrian studied Zoro for a moment. “If this ‘Luffy’ is anything like you, I can see why someone like Bular would take an interest.”

Zoro scoffed. “You have no idea.”

Bellas, who had been silent until now, leaned forward. “You’re looking for him, aren’t you?”

Zoro gave her a sharp glance. “Obviously. That's the whole reason why we even came to this camp with her in order to find a way to get to him and get the hell out of this place”

She bit her lip. “If Bular’s involved, then… finding him might be harder than you think.”

Zoro’s expression hardened.

He was partially afraid that might be the case.

Being dragged into a new world no idea where they are or Luffy is now to find out there are practically in the middle of a war

Now there could be a chance that they might have to fight in this war in order to get to him.

It looks like they had no other choice; they were going to have to fight in this war in order to  find him and get out of here.

 “That doesn’t change anything.” His grip on his sword hilt tightened. “Luffy’s my captain. He’s somewhere in this damn world, and I’m gonna find him. End of story.”

Alicia nodded. “Then you might want to start with the Dark Lands.”

Zoro tilted his head. “And where’s that?”

Alicia pointed at the map. “Everywhere outside this camp.”

Zoro stared at her. Then at the map.

Then back at her.

He exhaled. “Great.”

Vanellope groaned, slumping forward. “Wait so we're really going to have to stay here longer in order to find him.”

Jacob sighed. “Yeah,  unless you guys have any information on which pipe he went through there's really no way for us to help you find out where he is other than to start looking here and then making our way throughout each of the other worlds.”

Ruven leaned back, crossing his arms. “If you’re serious about going after him and you start your search here , then you’ll need to be prepared. The Dark Lands are crawling with Bular’s forces. Goblins, beasts, war trolls, assassins—you name it. And that's only just part of his army”

Zoro glanced around at the group, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Alright, I get it. This Bular guy’s a big deal. He’s got an empire, an army, and apparently, no one’s been able to stop him. But that brings up a real important question.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyeing Alicia and Orrian. “If this guy’s so powerful, then what the hell are you guys doing out here? Why are you stuck in the middle of nowhere, fighting off goblins in a ruined camp? Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the army trying to fight this guy head-on?”

Orrian sighed, rubbing his temple as if the weight of the situation was pressing down on him harder than ever. “Believe me, if things were that simple, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He motioned toward the map spread out across the table, its glowing runes casting eerie shadows in the dimly lit tent.

Alicia stepped forward, folding her arms. “The rebellion isn’t a single, unified army, Zoro. We’re scattered across multiple regions, different factions, different kingdoms, all fighting the same enemy in different ways. Some are holding the frontlines, some are reinforcing strongholds, and some…” she gestured vaguely to the surrounding tent, “…are stuck in hellholes like this, trying to keep the resistance alive.”

Zoro exhaled through his nose. “You mean to tell me there’s no one else standing against this guy? No other kingdoms that might wanna take him down?”

The elves exchanged uncertain looks.

“Well…” Orrian started, his expression unreadable.

Alicia hesitated before speaking. “It’s not that there aren’t other kingdoms Willing to fight. There are. But…”

Ruven scoffed. “But they won’t help at least not each other, which includes us.”

Vanellope’s head snapped up. “Wait—what?! Why not?! If this guy is as dangerous as you’re saying, why aren’t all these kingdoms working together to stop him?”

Ruven crossed his arms. “Because most of them only care about their own survival. Hell, each of the kingdoms barely have any alliances that keep them from invading each other; there's only a few kingdoms that actually have friendly alliances.”

Zoro furrowed his brow. “How many kingdoms are there?”

Alicia sighed. “Look… there are other kingdoms, but every single one of them has a reason for not fighting Bular. Some are too weak, some are too afraid, and others…” She clenched her fists. “Some are just waiting to see who wins so they can pick a side.”

She motioned toward the map sprawled out on the table before them, marking the locations of different realms and territories.

Sarasaland – The Desert Kingdom

Alicia’s finger hovered over a vast stretch of land in the south, a sprawling desert surrounded by ancient ruins and a grand city of sandstone.

“Sarasaland,” she began, her voice laced with both admiration and frustration. “A vast kingdom built in an endless desert. A city of sandstone and gold, hidden among the dunes. They were once fierce warriors, feared across the land for their cavalry and archers.”

Alicia scoffed. “Their leaders turned to trade and diplomacy instead of war. They became merchants, valuing their gold more than their swords. They refuse to get involved in conflicts unless it directly threatens their city. As long as Bular stays out of their trade routes, they’ll stay neutral.”

“A vast kingdom built in an endless desert. A city of sandstone and gold, hidden among the dunes. They were once fierce warriors, but their leaders turned to trade and diplomacy. They refuse to get involved in wars unless it directly threatens their city.”

Yoshi’s Island – The Dreamlike Realm

Alicia’s finger moved next to a cluster of islands that seemed to shimmer even on the map.

“This place… it’s strange,” she admitted. “Almost like a dream. Yoshi’s Island is ruled by a being with godlike powers, but they never interfere with mortal affairs. It’s as if they exist in their own reality, untouched by war.”

Vanellope tilted her head. “Wait, godlike powers? You mean like a real god?”

Alicia shrugged. “Depends on what you believe. All I know is that no matter who wins this war, they’ll stay neutral. They don’t care about our world’s problems. This place… It’s strange. Almost like a dream. It’s ruled by a being with godlike powers, but they never interfere with mortal affairs. No matter who wins this war, they’ll stay neutral.”

Kong Island – The Warrior Jungle

Alicia tapped the map again, this time on a massive jungle island marked with crude-looking fortifications and symbols of warrior clans.

“Kong Island,” she stated. “A jungle empire, ruled by warrior kings and tribal lords. Their people are strong, stronger than most, and their land is nearly impossible to conquer because of the terrain. They might fight if they see Bular as a direct threat to their way of life. But they don’t care about helping outsiders. To them, this isn’t their war—at least, not yet.”

The Elf Kingdom – Their Own People First

Alicia hesitated before motioning to a dense, forested area, surrounded by glowing symbols representing ancient magic.

“This is our kingdom,” she said softly. “The Elf Kingdom. A place of ancient magic and nature spirits. We could be powerful allies, but our elders sealed our borders long ago. They believe this war isn’t ours to fight, that we should only protect our own.” Alicia’s expression darkened. “It’s complicated. Some of us are fighting. You’re looking at what’s left of our warriors.” She motioned to Orrian and the others. “But the kingdom itself? They refuse to send their full forces. They think if we just stay hidden, the war won’t reach us.”

The Dwarf Kingdom – The Profiteers

Alicia pointed next to an area marked with gears and towering factory-like structures.

“The Dwarf Kingdom,” she said bitterly. “A kingdom built on machines and factories. Their forges create some of the strongest weapons in the world.” Alicia exhaled. “Because they’re selling them instead. To both sides. They don’t take a stance in wars unless there’s money to be made. And right now? They’re making a fortune selling arms to anyone willing to pay. A kingdom built on machines and factories. They’re powerful but ruthless. If anything, they’ll only fight if it benefits them.”

Fairy Island – The Lost Kingdom

Alicia’s finger traced over a sparkling island, seemingly glowing on the map.

“Fairy Island,” she said, almost wistfully. “A kingdom made of crystal and light. Some say they hold a sacred power strong enough to challenge even Bular.” Alicia shook her head. “Because no one knows if they even exist anymore. They haven’t been seen in centuries. Some say they vanished, others say they sealed themselves away. Either way, they’re nothing more than a legend now.”

The Penguin Kingdom – The Fallen Land

Finally, Alicia’s finger hovered over a frozen land at the edge of the map. She hesitated before speaking, her expression darkening.

“The Penguin Kingdom…” she said softly. “…This one is already lost.”

The room fell into silence.

“…Bular took it over just a few days ago. What was once a kingdom of Beautiful ice and penguins is now just another part of his empire.”

Zoro’s expression hardened, his fists clenching at his sides.

This world was going through the same problems of power that their world had almost every day, different pirates, corrupt governments, taking over different lands and homes.

It’s like no matter where they go there’s always green and power hungry assholes that they need to take care of .

Made him wonder whether fate actually chose them to come to this world to fix this problem.

He studied the map, taking in the different territories. “So what I’m hearing is that every single one of these places could fight Bular, but they won’t because they either don’t care or they’re too scared to act.”

Alicia nodded. “Exactly.”

Zoro grunted. “Tch. Cowards.”

Vanellope frowned. “But… that doesn’t make sense. Somebody has to fight back! If Bular keeps conquering lands, eventually everyone is going to fall under his rule. They can’t just sit around and wait for him to come for them!”

Orrian folded his arms. “That’s the thing. Some of them are waiting. And others… Well, they think they’re safe. They think Bular won’t come for them, that they can hide behind their walls or their magic. They think that if they stay out of it, they’ll be spared.”

Zoro scoffed. “And how’s that worked out for the rest of the kingdoms he’s already crushed?”

Alicia sighed. “Exactly. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for them, too.”

Vanellope huffed. “So, what do we do? Beg them for help? Because it sounds like they don’t give a damn unless it benefits them.”

As Zoro studied the map, something caught his attention. Among all the kingdoms Alicia had mentioned, there was one island that no one seemed to acknowledge. His sharp eyes traced the outline of a rugged, mountainous landmass, its terrain marked with jagged peaks and deep canyons.

“Oi.” He jabbed his finger against the parchment. “What about this one?”

Alicia blinked, following his gaze. Her expression shifted slightly, as if she hadn’t expected anyone to ask.

“Oh… that,” she murmured, exchanging a glance with Orrian.

Vanellope tilted her head. “What? Is there something wrong with it?”

Alicia sighed and leaned forward, tapping the location on the map. “That used to be the Island of Dragons. Once, it was home to one of the strongest warrior clans in the world—beasts who soared through the skies, creatures of both legend and terror.”

Zoro raised a brow. “Dragons? You’re serious?”

Alicia nodded. “Dead serious. But that was a long time ago. Now, most of them have either gone into hiding… or worse, they’ve joined Bular’s forces.”

Vanellope frowned. “Wait, most of them?”

Alicia exhaled slowly. “Yeah. There’s a rumor that some of them didn’t side with Bular. A few rogue dragons still live there, hidden deep within the stone mountains, but no one knows for sure.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “And no one’s tried to find them?”

Orrian scoffed. “Of course people have. Mercenaries, bounty hunters, even entire armies have tried to reclaim that island, but none of them ever returned. It’s a cursed land now. If there are any dragons left, they aren’t exactly welcoming guests.”

Alicia nodded. “Even if they exist, we have no idea what side they’d be on.”

Zoro glanced at the map again, a thoughtful look in his eye.

Then something else caught his attention.

The Legend of Sun God Nika

“The Stone Kingdom,” Alicia continued, pointing toward the mountainous region near the Island of Dragons. “This place… It’s different. It’s a land of warriors and harsh terrain. Their people are strong—maybe even strong enough to fight Bular.”

Zoro furrowed his brow. “Then what’s their excuse?”

Alicia hesitated before answering. “They only respect strength. Unless someone as strong as the Sun God Nika proves they’re strong enough to lead them, they won’t follow.”

Zoro’s eyes flickered at the name. Sun God Nika?

Something about that sounded familiar. It was like a distant echo in his mind, a name he had heard somewhere before. But no matter how hard he tried to recall, the memory stayed just out of reach.

“Sun God…” he muttered under his breath.

Alicia noticed his expression and shrugged. “Don’t take our word for it. That’s just what we’ve heard from the old tales of our kingdom.”

Vanellope’s eyes widened. “Wait, you guys have a version of that story?”

Ruven folded his arms. “Every culture has its own version. Some say he was a warrior, others say he was a god, and some think he was just a myth. The elves, well… we have our interpretation.”

Zoro leaned against the table, interested despite himself. “Alright then. Let’s hear it.”

Alicia nodded and took a breath before she began.

“In the old stories passed down through elven generations,” Alicia began, “the world was once covered in darkness. The land was ruled by shadow, and the people lived in chains, bound by tyrants who crushed any spark of hope.”

Zoro listened, arms crossed, while Vanellope leaned in, clearly intrigued.

“But then, from the heavens, a light emerged—a warrior unlike any other. A being who danced across the battlefield with laughter, bringing joy wherever he stepped. His strength was limitless, and his spirit was unbreakable.”

Alicia traced a circular pattern on the map with her finger. “They say his body was like the sun itself—brilliant, untouchable, filled with warmth and fury all at once. He defied kings, toppled empires, and freed those who had been shackled in darkness for generations.”

Vanellope grinned. “Sounds like a superhero.”

Alicia chuckled. “In a way, yeah. But it wasn’t just his strength that made him feared. It was his will. He never gave up, never let despair take hold. No matter how impossible the battle, he fought with a smile, as if laughing in the face of death itself.”

Zoro tapped the hilt of his sword absentmindedly. “And then what? What happened to him?”

Alicia’s smile faded. “No one knows. Some say he was struck down by the very gods who created him, fearing his power. Others say he simply disappeared, waiting for the day he’d be needed again.”

Ruven added, “And there are even crazier theories—some say he never left. That his spirit lives on in those who fight against oppression, in warriors who refuse to bow. The Sun God Nika isn’t a person, they say—it’s an idea. A legend that manifests in those who carry his will.”

Zoro didn’t say anything for a long moment. The story sounded almost too familiar. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard of this before… but where?

Vanellope nudged him. “Hey, you look like you know something.”

Zoro scowled. “Tch. It’s just a weird name, that’s all.” He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. “So let me get this straight. The Stone Kingdom would fight, but only if someone strong enough—like this Sun God Nika guy—proved themselves?”

Alicia nodded. “Pretty much. If someone strong enough challenged their leader and won, the whole kingdom would follow them into battle. But no one’s ever been able to do it. Well at least other than the trolls and you can obviously see how well that worked out”

Zoro absorbed all the information, his arms still crossed as he processed everything laid out before him. Multiple kingdoms, all capable of resisting Bular, yet none willing to step forward unless given a damn good reason. Some out of fear, some out of greed, and others simply waiting for someone else to take the risk first.

Cowards.

That's the only thought that continuously flooded his head when he continued to think about the other kingdoms.

 The only thing they were worried about was their own Survival rather than banding together and stopping this threat they would rather shut the other kingdoms out to suffer the fate of this monster then put their own lives in the line.

 It almost sort of reminded him a back home how everything started before and while he was on his journey as a pirate with Luffy and the others

 It's like no matter where he went there was always thing wrong with the way the world was and how are hungry individuals would do whatever they could to keep the world under their thumb.

It was like this whole thing felt like more added weights on his shoulders that he would now have to push through with everything he had and this time without the rest of the crew there to help with all the strategizing and all that other shit.

But more than that—this Sun God Nika legend nagged at him. The way Alicia described it… the way Ruven had framed it, saying it wasn’t just a person, but a will that lived on in those who refused to bow.

Something about that felt way too familiar.

He wasn’t sure why, but something in his gut told him that if Luffy were here, he’d probably laugh and say something dumb like “That guy sounds like fun!” before diving headfirst into whatever madness was tied to it.

Tch.

If only Luffy was here.

“So Just to make sure I'm not missing any Minor Details.” Zoro’s voice cut through the heavy atmosphere of the tent. “We’re dealing with a fractured world full of people who’d rather sit on their asses than do something. And the only way to get them to fight back is to either threaten them, bribe them, or prove you’re stronger than them?”

Alicia hesitated before nodding. “That’s… an oversimplification, but yes.”

Zoro scoffed. “Tch. Sounds about right.”

Vanellope crossed her arms, a determined expression on her face. “Well, sounds like we need to start proving stuff then, huh? If nobody wants to fight Bular ‘cause they think they’re safe, we just gotta show them they’re not! Right, Mr. Swordsman?”

Zoro smirked at her enthusiasm. “Something like that.”

Orrian, who had been silent for a while, exhaled through his nose and finally spoke. “If you’re serious about finding your captain and stopping Bular’s forces, then we need to start somewhere. The Dark Lands won’t be easy to traverse, and every day we waste is another day Bular’s empire grows stronger.”

Zoro met his gaze. “So where do we start?”

Alicia tapped the map again. “If we go by proximity, their Main base of operation should be at the center of the dark lands, we’d have to break through their main line of defenses in order to be enough to challenge their leader. And that’s no easy task considering that there's hundreds of goblins and dry bones in that area.”

Ruven, standing near the edge of the group, added, “Like what was stated earlier, we were supposed to be reinforcements for one of those major battlefronts. A supply line for our forces in the west. But when the Penguin Kingdom fell, everything changed.”

Orrian’s expression darkened. “The kingdom pulled back their main forces to fortify Kong Island, expecting Bular to come straight for them. And instead of reinforcing us, they left us stranded. We were meant to resupply and regroup, but now we’re just another casualty waiting to happen.”

Zoro frowned, processing the information. “So what, they abandoned you?”

Elrohir shook his head. “Not exactly. They just decided our survival wasn’t a priority anymore. And that now we have to continue the mission of the original army’s  orders to infiltrate the dark lands HQ and overthrow it”

Khilseith scoffed. “Which is the fancy Professional way of saying they abandoned us.  to complete the admission That was supposed to be a mission for the entire Army” His glare shifted to Orrian. “But our leader here insists that we just suck it up and follow orders.”

Orrian shot him a warning look before turning back to Zoro. “Look, we’re not the biggest or strongest unit in this fight, but we still have a role to play. And if we can take out Bular’s supply hub here in the Dark Lands, we can cripple his advance, maybe even buy the other kingdoms enough time to come up with a real counteroffensive.”

Zoro rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmph. Sounds like a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes.’”

Alicia’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing is certain. But if we don’t try, Bular wins without a fight.”

Vanellope, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Okay, but real talk—why you guys? Like, no offense, but if your own kingdom didn’t even think you were worth backing up, what makes you think you can pull this off?”

Orrian’s jaw tightened. “Because we’ve been here long enough to know the ins and outs of this place and how this section operates. No one else is. If we leave, if we wait, Bular’s forces fortify the bridge, and then it’s over. The rest of the world doesn’t get a chance to stop him. Whether we like it or not, we’re the ones who have to do this.”

Zoro looked around the tent at the grim faces surrounding him. For a moment, he said nothing. 

Alicia sighed, stepping forward, shethen added. “There used to be kingdoms that stood against Bular. Human kingdoms, elven strongholds, even rival troll clans who hated his rule. At first, we thought we could resist him—we fought wars, ambushed his supply lines, tried to cut off his resources”,She clenched her fists. “But he crushed every last one of them. His armies burned entire cities to the ground. Kings and queens who defied him were executed. Warriors who tried to fight him were either slaughtered or enslaved. Even those who ran had nowhere to go. Bular’s reach is endless”, She then looked towards the duo with concern in her eyes,” as of right now your help would be much appreciated for this war since we'll need all the Fighting Force we could get”,  her frowning quickly turned into a confident smile,”And well hey if you guys could help us in this war in exchange will be able to help you out with your problem.” 

Zoro crossed his arms, eyeing the elves with suspicion. “What do you mean, ‘exchange’? What exactly are you offering?”

Alicia, Ruven, and Orrian exchanged glances before Ruven finally spoke. “We mean that if you and your friend help us with our mission, then we can help you track down your captain.”

Zoro raised a brow. “And how exactly would you do that?”

Vanellope suddenly stiffened as a memory clicked in her head. Oh… oh no.

She shuffled awkwardly. “Uhhh, funny story about that… I maaay have overheard you guys talking earlier about your whole ‘hopeless war situation’ and the bridge and… uh… all that stuff.”

Orrian’s sharp gaze snapped toward her. “You were spying on us?”

Vanellope threw up her hands. “Look, I got curious, okay?! You guys were having some big serious war meeting, and I just wanted to know what was going on! And it’s a good thing I did, because now I actually know what kind of insane mess we’re in!”

Zoro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you were spying.”

Vanellope ignored him and turned back to the elves. “So yeah, I know you guys are dealing with Bular, and the whole ‘if we don’t stop him, the world ends’ thing.” She put her hands on her hips. “But How's he going to be able to get his entire Army through one of those little pipes?”

Orrian then exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at the swordsman. “I was getting to that.” He turned to the large map sprawled across the table, its edges lined with faintly glowing runes. “ Once the Penguin Kingdom had fallen, Bular was able to get a crucial part of his plan completed and retrieved from the enemy Kingdom.”

Vanellope, however, immediately stiffened, her tiny hands tightening into fists. Oh, she remembered that part.

Alicia glanced at Zoro with mild disbelief. “That crucial part being the last piece of Killerhead Bridge is now in enemy hands.”

Vanellope, now fully invested, took a step forward. “Wait, wait, wait—hold up! You’re talking about an actual bridge? One that lets the big bad guys cross into other worlds? Mainly our world. That was the one you were talking about earlier right?”

Orrian gave a sharp nod. “Exactly. Once the bridge is fully restored And power to its fullest capacity, this world will no longer contain them And the sun will no longer harm them. Bular’s forces will have unrestricted access to  your world… and beyond.”

Zoro remained quiet for a moment before finally speaking. “So this guy’s some kind of world-conquering warlord?”

Bellas, standing off to the side, grimly added, “More than that. When the bridge activates, the magic binding his forces to the shadows will break. They’ll no longer be weakened by the sun.”

Vanellope’s stomach dropped. “Wait… you mean right now they are weak and vulnerable to the Sun? And they’re still this bad?!”

Alicia nodded. “If the bridge is completed, they’ll be virtually unstoppable. No longer bound to the shadows, they’ll be able to march into any kingdom, any world, and tear it apart with ease.”

Vanellope exchanged a horrified look with Zoro. The swordsman exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening slightly on his swords. This just got a lot bigger than he originally thought.

He grip on his swords tightened as he let the weight of the situation sink in. He had been thinking about his problem—finding Luffy and getting back to their world. But now?

Now, this wasn’t just his problem anymore.

If what these elves were saying was true… if Bular’s forces completed this Killerhead Bridge and gained full access to the other worlds, then this war wouldn’t just be contained to this realm.

These monsters—these goblins, war trolls, and whatever other creatures served Bular—would spread.

They wouldn’t just stay here.

They would invade everywhere.

And that meant—

East Blue. The Grand Line. The New World. The Thousand Sunny.

It’s not like the navy will bother to help the civilians or all of the people involved unless it becomes their problem

He’ll kill everyone before they even bother to take action.

Zoro’s jaw clenched as he thought of his crew. Of their world. Of people like Nami, Usopp, Chopper—the ones who weren’t built for war, the ones who didn’t have the luxury of being as strong as Luffy or him.

If these creatures somehow found their way to the Grand Line, what would happen to places like Foosha Village? What about Alabasta? Water 7? Wano?

Would these monsters even care about the weak?

No.

They’d burn everything in their path.

Half  the world will be in a bowl of flames before the Navy takes any action

Zoro exhaled sharply, his face darkening with realization. Shit.

This was so much worse than he could’ve thought and they were supposed to be on vacation

But here they were now in the middle of another soon to be war one that could be worse than the Pirates in their world could be capable of .

Vanellope, standing beside him, had gone eerily quiet. Her hands clenched into small, shaking fists at her sides.

Her home. Whole cake, and even Luffy’s home, which she had gone and made her home.

Her people. If these things found a way through, what would happen to them?

She could already see it—

The streets of her Foosha Village crushed under the boots of an invading army. The vibrant colors of her candy-coated world drowned in fire and shadow. Her people—her citizens—slaughtered.

All because some power-hungry warlord wanted more.

Her little body shook with barely restrained anger.

“We have to act now,” Orrian continued, his voice grim. “Bular’s forces are mobilizing. If we wait too long, there will be no stopping them.”

“But how?” Vanellope asked, clearly overwhelmed. “You guys just said your kingdom isn’t even helping you! You’re six people against an army.”

Khilseith let out a bitter laugh. “ Yeah we’re kind of aware of that problem, kid.”

Ruven leaned forward, studying the map. “We do have one advantage. Their forces think we’re too weak to make a move. If we strike before they realize we’re coming, we might be able to sabotage their progress.”

A heavy silence followed before Zoro finally spoke again. “And what do you want us to do?”

Orrian locked eyes with him. “Join us. Help us take down Bular’s fortress. If we plan this out carefully and take note of every disadvantage they have in that entire fortress then with your strength and our skills will be able to march right through that fortress and take it down”

Zoro stared at him, unimpressed. “And if we do help you in return, you’ll help us look for our captain.”

Ruven answered this time. “Of course we’ll do everything in our power to see that your mission is completed successfully. That along with the fact that the elf kingdom will pay you handsomely for your services.. Our rebellion has spies, informants, people who gather intelligence across different regions. If this white-suited man is looking for your captain, we can track him down before this enemy finds him.”

Zoro’s expression didn’t change, but Vanellope could tell he was thinking it over.

Alicia stepped closer. “We don’t know where your captain is. But we know how to find out.”

Vanellope folded her arms. “So, we help you guys take down a giant fortress filled with goblins, Dry Bones, and gods-know-what-else, and in return, you help us track down Luffy?”

“Precisely,” Orrian confirmed.

Zoro thought about this for a good moment

Though he was still pretty powerful, he still was recovering from what happened and Wano.

Sure, he was fine with doing this battle, but he also had this kid he had to look after.

And the last thing he needed was to throw her into the pits of hell laying in an army when she hadn’t even hit puberty yet.

It was a bad idea all the way around to bring her into this, but he didn’t have a choice. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t going to be able to just wander about looking for that stupid pipe.

And these guys didn’t seem to have or no way for them to get back to their world.

Not to mention the fact that he would now have to try to find Thousand sunny before Franky gets his hands on him and Luffy for not only damaging it but also losing it.

So in all honesty, he didn’t have a choice, but to go along with this plan and see where this would lead

It would be dangerous sure but at least then they will have a start to looking for Luffy and sunny.

 He let out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his head. “Alright… Just to make sure we're all on the same page.” He looked over at Orrian. “You guys are trying to stop this Bular guy from completing a magic bridge that’ll let his army steamroll across the world, right?”

Orrian nodded. “Correct.”

Zoro folded his arms. “And you want to take out his fortress, but you don’t have the manpower to pull it off. So you're coming to me in order to help you get past their Firepower and take down this section”

“Yes ,” Alicia added, “And in  exchange For your help against this threat we will use our resources to help you find your captain basically.” Alicia confirmed, crossing her arms. “And though we may not have seen your captain ourselves, we do have an extensive network of informants across different lands. We can put out feelers, get information on sightings, and maybe even find out why someone’s after him.”

Zoro’s expression darkened. If these elves had contacts that could help track Luffy down… that was the best shot they had so far.

And all they needed to do was go and kill a bunch more of these bony turtles and green minions.

It almost sounded a little too good to be true, and maybe a little too easy to be honest.

But then again they literally didn't have that much of a choice other than to go along with this offer.

Zoro considered it for a moment. If he said no, they’d be on their own. But if they said yes… he might just get one step closer to finding Luffy.

He‘d taken a few moments to process everything Alicia had just told him. It was a lot, but one thing was clear—this war wasn’t something that had just erupted out of nowhere. It had been going on for a long time, and the kingdoms had been making plans. But the real question was: Had those plans already failed? Or was there still a way to turn this around?

He glanced at Vanellope, who looked pale as a sheet, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She had just remembered all of this—the talk of the bridge, the fall of the Penguin Kingdom, the coming invasion.

Zoro tilted his head slightly. “But still after everything that was brought up you can't still be telling me there are no other kingdoms left  that good fight against these trolls? No hidden armies, no exiled warriors, no nothing?”

Ruven sighed. “It's unfortunate but that is the case but is also not exactly the case at the same time,  because the other kingdoms just don't have the manpower to be able to take this force on especially not on their own, even our kingdom has to be weary of how many soldiers they send. But nothing big enough to challenge Bular.”

Zoro grunted. “Hmph. So, hence why you're being sent out to the wolves to battle against them alone”

Alicia’s eyes sharpened. “ Hey, our kingdom made this decision because we are practically the Elite Squad of the Rebellion, especially the Elven Rebellion.”

Zoro We get sucked then look back at her. “Yet you are all just a handful of Fighters  that could barely handle a hoard of miniature green monsters.  now you guys are going to have to go up against the entire Death Zone of monsters  with you all basically said triple in what we face today”

Vanellope added on to this. “Let's not forget about the entire Army that you guys haven't even faced yet that apparently have enough manpower to take over whole kingdoms and worlds single-handedly. I don't know about you guys but that doesn't exactly sound like something even an Elite Squad can handle.”

“Hell, even the military Navy from our world which struggles against a threat like this, especially with the sheer numbersm you guys are saying that they have. Look I'm not trying to be the bearer of bad news but a small Squad just isn't going to be enough to take on an entire Kingdom”, Zoro harshly though honestly stated. 

Orrian didn't look at either one of them as they were saying this instead he stared down the map as he then spoke up. “You don't think that we're aware of that of course their numbers could easily overwhelm hours but as we've made obvious before we don't have a choice but to keep fighting despite the sheer numbers they have we know they could wipe us all out in one swoop hell they almost did so today. That’s why we can’t afford to be reckless.” He turned his attention back to Zoro. “And that’s why we need Your help to fight against these monsters so that we can live to figure out why that monster wants you and your captain.”

That enthusiasm that motivation

 Zoro had seen this through many leaders many times on his adventures with the straw hat crew. 

And yeah of course you could take out this threat here in the dark lines with ease despite his current condition.

But this time this was a threat that wasn't from the world he knew therefore the weaknesses from their world weren't going to apply here at least from what he gathered.

Yes sure the enemies he just fought here were weak but what the same can be said for all the enemies here.

For all Zoro knew there could be enemies far more powerful than from what he and Luffy were used to fighting back home.

And yeah Zoro had his skills and his power but that could only do so much especially by himself if the enemy was as powerful as say the Beast Pirates.

 And usually the numbers he was fighting with were a lot larger than this at least most of the time but still they were now just sort of fishing a barrel in enemy territory with no whole village there to support and Aid them in any way they can.

 It was just the handful of them in a pit of literal hell trying to fight in a war that Zoro barely knew about.

Even if the enemy wasn't as powerful as he was  it still would be quite a pain in the ass for him to get himself and this kid out of here unscathed without having any complications and while looking for Luffy since this place was practically a maze.

This all sort of felt like something that could go wrong at any moment and that this time he would only have to rely on himself to get it done at least other than the small group around him.

Alicia  could almost sense the thoughts coming from Zorro though she didn't exactly know where he was from or what he had been through at this point she could tell that he had doubts about some of this stuff.

And to be honest he had a right to.

This whole thing would be a pretty heavy gamble for them all especially if things went wrong.

Because  if this plan fails it could get them all killed and  or tortured for information

Neither one sounded pleasant to he.

She figured she could at least be well honest about the whole situation from her point of view and really kind of lay it on then before they made any crazy decisions. 

She sighed. “Look, we are aware that the situation  doesn't look good, not by any means.  Yes the allied kingdoms are gathering on Kong Island to discuss retaliation, but they’re still divided on what to do. Some are too afraid to risk open war. Others think they should fight but have no way to reach the Dark Lands in time. And though we have hope that we win we're perfectly and fully aware of that we're outnumbered on all ends and if we charge into this fight we know that this could very well be the time of our end and there's nothing we could do to stop that if that happens.”

Whoa.

That took Zoro by surprise.

Here he thought she was going to find a reason to  try to convince him to fight along with them but she just laid it down like that.

And she was far from wrong as he knew.

They were outnumbered.

Yes he was powerful but he also didn't know who the enemies were in this world and the logic here wasn't the same as from where he had come from.

Was he scared, no not fully but he wasn't exactly cocky about the situation either.

This was the kind of situation he was hoping to avoid earlier as he was telling this to Luffy back on the sunny before they were dragged through that pipe.

Though of course life doesn't seem to want to go the way the straw hat sometimes needed to go.

Orrian, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke. “The reality is that the kingdoms were never prepared for something like this. No one ever expected Bular to find a way past his limitations. Helen think that for any of the magical creatures who align themselves with him or the trolls. As long as the sun existed, trolls were supposed to be contained. That was our only advantage. Now? If they finish that bridge, they’re no longer restricted by anything.”

Khilseith scoffed. “And let’s be honest—most of these so-called great kingdoms never gave a damn about what was happening here in the Dark Lands. They were happy to let the rebellion and the elves handle it while they sat behind their walls, thinking the problem would never reach them. Now there on the verge of being enslaved and all shitting themselves because they have no idea how to handle the situation that's always why that meeting in the Kong kingdom is even happening”

Vanellope frowned. “And now it is reaching them. And they’re still just arguing?”

Alicia’s expression darkened. “Some of them are. Others are doing what they can, but they’re outnumbered, just like us. With no real way of fighting against those damn near indestructible monsters.”

Ruven crossed his arms. “The desert kingdom has reinforced its borders, but they won’t commit to war unless the council forces them to. The island kingdoms are still debating whether they should send troops at all. The industrial city? Their army is strong, but they won’t move without direct orders from their ruling class.”

Bellas sighed, running a hand through her hair. “And don’t even get me started on the Fairy Kingdom. They refuse to mobilize their forces because they think the Dark Lands are too far from their territory to be a concern. And to be honest there are me or military wouldn't stand a chance against these things.”

Zoro rubbed his temple, getting frustrated About hearing all the bullshit that's going on with these kingdoms. “Tch. Typical. People don’t care until the fire’s at their doorstep.”

Orrian nodded. “Exactly. The only kingdom that’s fully committed is the Mushroom Kingdom—and that’s because they know they’re next. Once the bridge is completed, Bular’s forces will invade them first. They’re the last line before the trolls can reach the rest of the world.”

Vanellope’s stomach twisted at that. “So if the Mushroom Kingdom falls…?”

Orrian’s gaze was grim. “Then nothing will stop them from expanding to other realms. They’ll take one kingdom after another, crushing anyone who resists, enslaving those who surrender.”

Khilseith scoffed bitterly. “And let’s not forget what happens if they don’t kill you outright. If you’re lucky, you get to be a mindless servant. If you’re unlucky?” His lips curled in disgust. “You end up one of their experiments.”

Vanellope shuddered. “Experiments?”

Alicia’s face hardened. “Bular’s forces don’t just conquer—they change people. The Dry Bones? Those aren’t just monsters—some of them used to be warriors who fought back and lost. Their bodies are reanimated and used as mindless soldiers. The Kremlings? Most of them weren’t always loyal to Bular. But those who were strong enough to survive their invasions? They were broken. Turned. Transformed.”

“Well that's actually the case for some of the newer soldiers anyway the original dry bones are apart of The Koopa Kingdom run by Bowser the Koopa King”, Bellas  pointed out as she then pointed to another part of the map that looked as if it had a giant horned turtle symbol on it,”The Kremlings are part of the Kremmling pirate crew one by King K rule the apparent King of the Pirates.

 This made Zoro raise an eyebrow,”King of the Pirates”?

Bellas nodded her head,” Yeah King K Rool rules over all the Seas and has had a long time rivalry with the Kong Kingdom. He's been trying to get there Crystal Coconut for years his pirate crew are probably just as dangerous as the Koopa kingdom.”

Zoro’s grip on his sword hilts tightened. He didn’t say anything, but hi.t s jaw clenched, and his usual laid-back demeanor darkened.

Zorro thought about what he had just been told.

 King of the Pirates.

 That title only belonged to one individual he knew.

 Monkey D Luffy

He would never accept anyone else's pirate king other than him.

Zero can only imagine how Luffy was going to react when he found out about this supposed King of the Pirates.

But this wasn't exactly something he was going to really worry about at least as not of right now.

What he had just been told by them about what the enemy would do to any of their victims they would find.

A war where they would massacre whole kingdoms simply for the sake of dominating one species over the other.

Where would leave nothing but death and destruction on it's never-ending path.

Where it would cause families to watch their homes were reduced to nothing but ashes.

Where it would possibly end in them  ending up as slaves for the enemy and forced to work until their bones break.

Where the dead become part of the enemy’s Food supply?

That was beyond fucked up.

He narrowed his eyes, arms crossed as he Suddenly snapped himself out of his own thoughts to focus on the bigger picture.

He looked around and saw that everyone was looking at him as if trying to read just what he was thinking and what he was going to answer next. 

He could tell that  they were really hoping that he would agree to join their side and help aid them in this war.

Vanellope looked equally Curious about his decision as much as the elves as the two of their fates were sort of in his hands.

Zoro exhaled sharply through his nose. 

He just stood there, silent.

His arms were crossed. His head slightly bowed. His swords gleamed faintly in the dim lantern light, reflecting the heaviness of the moment. Everyone was watching him—waiting. The tent felt like it was holding its breath.

The silence stretched.

And then, slowly, Zoro lifted his head.

His eye burned—not with anger, not with frustration, but with that unwavering intensity only someone who had survived hell could carry in his stare.

He looked at Alicia. Then Orrian. Then the rest of the elves.

Finally, he looked down at Vanellope.

Then he spoke.

“…Alright. I’m in.”

The room didn’t move at first. The words felt too heavy to register.

 Alicia stood there staring at him almost  bewildered at his answer.

Was he actually agreeing?

Was he being serious?

He was actually going to put his life in the line for them?

It was like everyone else in the room was trying to process the answer he had just given them.

Trying to make absolutely sure that he was being serious and that he wasn't lying to them.

Then—

“You’re serious?” Alicia asked, blinking.

Zoro gave a firm nod. “I said I’m in. I don’t repeat myself.”

Vanellope gasped—eyes wide, sparkling, her whole body nearly vibrating. “Yes! I knew you weren’t gonna leave these guys hanging!” She threw a little fist in the air. 

She knew it.

She knew her favorite straw hat out of the whole crew wouldn't leave innocent people to deal with problems on their own, especially one such as this.

He was one of the best of all of them aside from Lucy and it filled her heart with excitement to see that he was so bravely willing to step into Danger without knowing what might happen to him. 

“But before we go into further discussions or something we need to  make clear first”, He turned back to the others,”Look I'm going to be 100% honest when I say that just because I'm agreeing to help you guys out doesn't mean I’m pledging my life to your kingdom or whatever rebellion you’re running. I’m not here to play politics. I’m only doing this so that we can find a way to get the hell out of this place and find the guy who put us here.  as far as I'm concerned we're only here for two reasons.” He raised a finger. “One—stop Bular so he doesn’t reach our world and cause death and destruction.” He raised a second. “Two—find Luffy and our ship and get the hell out of here. So as long as all those things to do are checked off the list I think we'll be working together just fine”

“As long as you are aiding Us in this next upcoming battle I for one Will be more than willing to agree to those terms for your services” Alicia said, smiling at him.

Khilseith Hearing this rolled his eyes and annoyance. “Great, here we are reduced to working with humans in order to survive.”

Orrian, however, annoyed with his subordinates' open disrespect, gave him a hard elbow to the ribs in order to silence him before turning towards the Swordsman “What my friend here means to say is that we are happy that you have agreed to Aid Us in this battle. And with your help, we can change everything in the tides of this war.”

The dark elf was about to say something else snarky but his Commander shot him a look which basically told him to not even think about it.

The last thing I wanted to do was piss off probably one of their only Aces that they had right at the moment simply because their comrade wanted to be a smart-ass per usual. 

Right now they needed all the help they could get and they didn't Khilseith  it all up just because he wanted to be an asshole. 

Ruven added on to this, “And with your strength, we may actually stand a chance against that monster and his army.”

Zoro rolled his shoulder. “Tch.Yeah well don’t rely on me too much. I'm just the guy here to find his captain and get a move on nothing more nothing less.”

“Fair,” Alicia muttered, hiding a smirk before she then straightened. “Then I suggest we start Planning a way to infiltrate the enemy's headquarters in this section.Thankfully due to my Expedition I have managed to  get enough information about that section in order to figure out how to work our way around it.” 

Ruven Then turned and formed the duo. “You won't have to worry about rushing to prepare for battle this planning process will naturally take a day or two to make sure that we aren't skipping out on any details. ”

Bellas added on this “Yeah we like to make sure that we have everything jotted down before we execute on a plan. This is just to make sure that we don't forget about anything the enemy may have on the other side and be left defenseless of it.”

Zoro then soaked this new information in.

So it looks like they would be there a couple of days before they actually went forward on this plan.

Guess it would give him the kid more time to rest up.

So he couldn't exactly complain about that.

But still he didn't want to be sitting around for too long due to the situation they need to get the Luffy quickly as possible before anyone else got to him 

Jacob turned to Zoro. “So… you ready to get started?”

Zoro  gave a confirming nod  which caused everyone to smile in admiration. 

Vanellope placed her hands on her hips, puffing up her chest with exaggerated bravado. “Alright, Operation: Wreck Bular’s Face is officially a GO!”

Zoro gave her a sideways glance. “…You are not naming this operation.”

She winked. “Too late.”

The room then filled with laughter.

 As if they figured that if they work together against this threat they may win.

As the tension in the room began to shift—just slightly—into something more focused, more determined, Orrian stepped forward and unrolled a second scroll onto the table.

“Then let’s get to work.” Orrian nodded. “ We’ll move out in the next two days. ” He gestured to the crude diagram of Bular’s fortress, marked with red lines, guard posts, and glowing sigils,” We need to gather supplies, scout their positions, and prepare for the assault.

Zoro's gaze returned to the center of the map.

He cracked his knuckles. “Two days, huh? Fine. Gives me some time to get a real fight in before things get boring again.

Orrian gave him a smirk before continuing,“If we’re going to pull this off, we need to hit them before they finish the preparation to leave the dark lands. And we’ll need to divide our forces carefully. We hit their power source, their command structure, and their gate at the same time.”

The elves began murmuring amongst themselves, already preparing for the next phase of their battle. The weight of what they had learned settled over them, but one thing was certain.

Zoro crossed his arms as he stared at the map, the layout burning into his mind.

The heart of the fortress.

The gate to other worlds.

The war they never wanted, and now had to win.

The thought of Luffy—somewhere out there, alone or worse—lit a flame in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. He didn’t say it aloud, but the promise settled into the very core of him:

He would burn this entire land to the ground if it meant finding his captain.

He stared at the map a moment longer, his finger still resting on the Dark Lands HQ.

Vanellope Noticed that he was still staring down at the map

It wasn't surprising to her that he was probably thinking about Luffy and where he might be and that wasn't anything shocking because she was thinking the same thing.

That and also how they were going to get out of here alive.

And yet have her little worried but she knew she would have to be brave and then she couldn't just cry and hope that someone would come and save her that wasn't how she got off of whole cake Island and that wasn't how she was going to get  out of this land.

 she would have to step up.

 and she would need to do so in a drastic way

 she then spoke up to him, “You thinking about Luffy?”

Zoro stayed silent for a few seconds before he then exhaled through his nose. “Yeah.”

Vanellope gave a small smile as she then gave a supportive pat on his leg (due how short she was). “Don't worry Zoro, we'll find him, I know we will .”

The one-eyed swordsman hearings turns a little girl and gave her a smirk,”Well look at that you haven't been here that long and you're already giving out pep talks huh”?

The tiny child then nonchalantly Shucks her shoulders,” yeah well someone's got to keep our head on straight if we're going to get through this.”

He's smart before giving her a respectful nod and turning back to the map and staring down at the darklands headquarters.

He clenched his jaw Before speaking once again, a quiet fury behind his words,“Let’s tear this bastard’s world apart.”

(End of chapter)

Hey everyone

We back baby and better than ever because we are finally finished the first part of the dark land Arc I know it was quite the long wait we're finally getting back to Luffy's story and where he's now currently at in this journey

Production for the next chapter will begin in a couple of days after I'm done revealing some new stories on my social media channels which are down in the links below 

keep up with my other channels, such as the following:

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 till next time 

Keep an eye out 

[rockin-bot-block]

Tag Dump

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

journey, m | ot7

full title: journey to the dick

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

summary: A Cinderella story but it's a dick pic. Yup, that's right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of alcohol consumption / partying; horny crack, everyone radiates chaotic energy and wants to fuck; reader is comparing their dicks to above-mentioned dick pic so there's a lot of talk about dick, did I mention there's a lot of dick? dick; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking, handjob, thigh fucking, dance studio sex, overstimulation, fingering, dry humping, 69, face-sitting, photography during sex, m-masturbation, being cummed on (neck / chest [a cum necklace LMAO] + hand), film studio sex, wall-fucking, being overheard / walked in on during sex (and not giving a shit, oops), implied car sex, implied threesome); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene

appearances based on the 'Butter' jacket photoshoots yes, the opening line is #50 of my prompt list LMAO title comes from Journey to the West, except it's dick because that's way more important. also, yeah, this is basically a harem hentai, but it's you and BTS, woohoo! :D

--

"Whose dick pic is this and why it is so inspirational?"

Park Jimin craned his head over to look at your phone, black hair brushing against your forehead. "Damn! That is an incredible dick."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kim Taehyung muttered, yanking your phone out of your hand and peering at the screen. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown hair. "Oh, ho! What a high-quality specimen of a dick."

"Why is it on my phone though?" you frowned, taking your phone back from Taehyung. You were sitting next to Jimin on their sofa, contemplating the great mysteries of the world. The black phone case had a cute mouse holding a large sewing needle and sitting next to a spool of sky-blue thread. "I didn't take this one, sadly."

"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.

"I haven't been real drunk since I projectile vomited in your guys' parking lot."

"That was last week," Taehyung reminded you, smiling amusedly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Look, it was a bad breakup."

"You went on, like, two dates," Jimin laughed, smacking you in the arm.

"It had potential!"

"Yeah, a potential dumpster fire," Taehyung added, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the other side of you. "I know you go for the quiet, nerdy ones, but you're just–"

"Brash? Forward? Ready to sit on dick at any second?"

Jimin was being very helpful.

Taehyung shoved Jimin's grinning face away. "It's a conflict of personality and yours is quite intense, so maybe you should try and be more open-minded about other options."

You frowned, not enjoying this pep talk that you probably needed. In fact, you avoided said pep talk at all costs. You reached back and yanked on Taehyung's ponytail. He prodded you in the left breast in response, glaring. You smacked his hand. He smacked your hand back.

Hey, when you don't have a good reply, resort to violence, right?

You looked back down at your phone. Swollen, red-purple, a good thickness. Nice length too, so hard it was sticking up without the assistance of a hand. You could spy the white pre-cum beading at the engorged tip. It was a strangely clear and well-composed photo. Black boxer briefs. Blue jeans, white shirt.

Fuck.

Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.

You turned the photo to Jimin. "Someone must have taken it last night when I couldn't find my phone for those two hours."

Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You remember anyone in this outfit?"

Jimin snorted, wrinkling his cute nose. "Everyone was in jeans and a white t-shirt. 'Cause there was that wet t-shirt contest later that night, remember?"

You scratched your head. Ah, yes. Taehyung won. Man looked fucking amazing thanks to working out his arms and chest the past month. Was it solely for the purpose of a silly party gimmick? Maybe. You weren’t complaining though. You did what any good friend would do.

"Oh, right. Who won?"

Taehyung grabbed your shoulders and violently shook you. "I did! Obviously – ah, fuck you!" His tone quickly changed when he realized you were laughing like a maniac, doubling over in a pile of giggles with Jimin. "You're the worst," Taehyung pouted, holding his arms protectively.

"I'm just kidding, don't be mad," you chuckled, reaching over to hug him. He accepted it, but not without continuing to pout. You nuzzled his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. "I bought you your favorite breakfast when you were hung over this morning, come on now."

His dark brown eyes shifted back and forth before letting out a long, deep sigh and hugging you back. Damn. He had a nice hug now thanks to these arms and his broad chest. He smelled like warm chamomile.

"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.

You patted him on the back before releasing him and holding up your phone. Back to the first order of business.

"Is this your dick?"

Taehyung scrunched up his face. "No? But I don't look at my dick at that angle either."

You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.

"Is this your dick?"

Jimin plucked your phone from your hand. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.

"Lemme check."

Then he stood up and started walking to the direction of the bathroom. Still holding your device.

"Uh..."

You trailed off.

Taehyung blinked.

The bathroom door closed.

Pants unzipped.

"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

-

"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."

"Be reasonable. I can't get hard from this dick pic. Don't you want to know the owner of said dick?"

You pursed your lips and squinted at your phone, standing in Park Jimin's and Kim Taehyung's shared bathroom, because they were roommates and your friends. The mysterious discovery of said dick pic from last night's party sparked this Journey to the Dick, because it was a very impressive, intriguing, and, most importantly, inspirational specimen of the male genitalia. Clearly you had to investigate.

For science.

Which was why you were standing in the bathroom with Jimin's sweatpants off and begrudgingly getting to your knees. Begrudgingly, because...

"I thought we were supposed to be ordering pizza and watching Running Man."

"We are," Jimin answered cheerfully. "After you suck my dick."

You glanced at the photo once more.

It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.

You gripped the waistband of Jimin's black boxer briefs.

Hmm...

Hold on.

You stood up suddenly and took your phone from him, sudden determination overtaking you.

"I have to do this correctly."

Jimin blinked rapidly, jumping with a yelp as you flung open the bathroom door to reveal Taehyung throwing himself into the wall, coughing awkwardly and hiding his face with his hands as you marched out purposefully. Jimin was still pants-less.

"In the proper order!"

Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.

"The hell does she mean, proper order?'

-

kim namjoon.

“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”

Kim Namjoon looked up from his book and blinked at you over his round glasses.

“Pardon?” he replied in English.

“Your dick,” you responded in kind, in English and with succinct pronunciation. “Your penis. Your willy. Your ding-dong. Your–”

Namjoon removed a hand from his book and held it up. “My what?” he interrupted you, laughing.

Oh good, back to Korean so you didn’t have to flex all the different ways you knew how to say cock in English. “Take off your pants.”

He blinked rapidly, innocently sitting there in his flowy white button-up and brown pants. He even had suspenders. Fancy man. He had dyed his hair recently, a steel midnight blue. That’s how Namjoon was, attractive and book-smart. Absolutely won the lottery when it came to genes and brains. You couldn’t see the title of the book he was reading, but it was probably a self-help or philosophy book. He was into those nowadays, exploring the human mind, while you were more into exploring the physical aspects of humanity.

Fucking.

Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.

(Usually, heh.)

“I have no objections to your proposition. I’m just confused on why so suddenly.”

You dropped your canvas tote bag on the ground. Your red, short summer dress covered in yellow lemons flared out as you shifted your weight to one hip. Your phone was in one of your hands and you waved it around like a baton as you talked.

“Aren’t I usually sudden when I want to fuck?”

Namjoon chuckled, rich and deep, shutting his book and putting it aside. Probably memorized his page number. Big sexy brain and all that jazz. A fantastic characteristic of his.

He also had a big sexy dick you were asking to see right now.

“You are, but sometimes you offer to buy me a meal or a snack first.”

“I mean, sure, if you want–”

He lifted a hand and cocked a finger towards himself, smiling. When he smiled, his dimples appeared. That was your favorite feature on Namjoon. You bounced over excitedly and sat on the couch, skirt flipping up and exposing your thighs, still holding your phone.

“I’m on a mission.”

He quirked an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses detective-style. “What kind of mission?”

You pointed to your phone. “Do you remember that party we went to, the one with the wet t-shirt contest?” You lifted your arm and flexed your rather defined bicep that made Namjoon raise his eyebrows and mouth a wow under his breath. Consistent handys really did the trick when it came to bicep muscle definition. “You remember, right? You showed off your guns.”

He burst out laughing, waving a hand. “They are not guns.”

“Sure, they are. I could do a lot of social justice with your biceps, Namjoon.”

He shook his head, grinning, dimples on full display. “And what’s with the dress? You don’t usually wear such a cute style.”

You ticked your phone to the apartment front door. “I’m meeting Seokjin later, but he said he’s going to play another round of bowling because Jungkook kicked his ass again. But anyway, back to what I was saying…”

“Ah, yes. I think I remember Jimin mentioning something to me now.”

You brightened, unlocking your phone and holding up the screen. “Right! I’m looking for the owner of this dick.”

His eyes widened and Namjoon leaned forward, readjusting his glasses again. “Wow. That’s quite a clear picture.” Then he coughed and averted his eyes.

You nodded quickly. “Well? Did you take this picture?”

He frowned and sat back against the sofa, sucking in a breath and ticking his head. “Mmm, maybe? I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember what I did…”

“Hah… Does this look like your dick, then?”

“How would I know?” he chuckled. “I don’t see my dick from that angle and I don’t have sober photoshoots with my dick.”

You pursed your lips. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to fuck then. Drop the pants.”

The thing about Namjoon was that he was a very reasonable man. You had a problem and proposed a solution and he, an avid learner who liked searching for answers to the great mysteries of this world, had the means to help you out on your quest, so he did. In addition, he thought you were hot, you thought he was hot, and you’d already fucked a couple times before Journey to the Dick, so the mutual agreement was already there.

Splendid!

The other thing about Namjoon was that he really liked to make you work for it.

Slightly less splendid.

“Are you choking?”

You squinted at him and flipped him the bird. He was well-versed with popular Western hand gestures.

Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”

And he put his hand back onto the back of your head and shoved your mouth down onto his cock once more.

You had half a second to breathe again before air was forcefully taken from you, Namjoon now holding you there, nose-first into his crotch, sighing contentedly as he expanded in your mouth. You planted your hands onto his strong thighs and pushed, but his hand didn’t budge. The safe signal was three taps and you weren’t tapping out yet. You glared and Namjoon closed his eyes, smirking slowly.

He left his round glasses on.

‘Course he did.

Damn you, Namjoon!

You reached up and pawed at the buttons of his white shirt, making Namjoon open his eyes to see what you were doing as you unbuttoned them rather deftly for someone who had his dick filling up their throat. He looked down at you, cocking an eyebrow. You cheekily cocked one back, poking his pecs with your pinky.

He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”

You clenched your throat around the head of his cock and he gasped, losing grip for a split second.

In that split second, you threw his shirt open, glorious his tan skin and large muscular pecs now in view, and slapped your hands down onto his thighs, instantly starting a fast, rough pace, curving your neck with every swallow, sandwiching his cock between tongue and top of your mouth, pulsing your wet muscles all over his length, staring at that well-built chest, watching the muscles ripple with his sudden, abrupt inhale.

“Oh, fuck!”

Sometimes you let Namjoon have the reigns, but this time you were on a mission, although it was a little distracting now because presently you had an unobstructed view of Kim Namjoon with his shirt open, head thrown back, midnight blue hair fanning over the sofa, his full lips open and panting, tendons in his neck tensing, broad shoulders flexed, leading down his defined chest and abs, core tight from your intense pace, thighs hard under your hands, cock swollen and thick, pulsating in your mouth. His large hands planted on top of yours, squeezing them with his.

The three taps applied to him too.

Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.

“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”

Shit, that’s right.

You reluctantly slowed, tongue swiping all over the underside of his dick, tracing the veins, moaning hotly around his cock. He lowered his chin, panting hard, dark brown eyes half-open and framed by his lovely silver glasses. It was him who reached for your phone and unlocked it. He remembered your pattern lock and you had only told him once. All your consistent fucks knew how to unlock your phone.

That’s how you had so many pictures of, ahem, good times.

He placed the phone on his hip and his head fell back against the sofa, inhaling deeply as you continued lapping at the base of the head, slowly sucking on it at the same time to keep him hard.

“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”

You mashed the tip of your tongue against the slit and coated it with pre-cum.

“Ah, come on, look already and compare,” Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, raising a hand to pet your head. “Then you can finish me.”

You popped your mouth off reluctantly. “Hmm.” You placed a few fingers on his cock and looked at it, positioning it to the correct angle that matched the photo. “Huh, it’s pretty close. But you have this noticeable vein here, and I think the head of your cock is slightly different…” You squinted and brought your face rather close to his stiff length. “The skin tone seems right, but it’s not exact, and I think you’re bigger…”

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his dick and smacked your cheek with the head.

“Oi!”

You puffed your cheeks, strings of saliva and pre-cum covering your face.

He grinned, dimples on full display. “Oops.”

You jabbed your finger at your phone. “I’m doing an investigation here!”

He shrugged cheekily. “You said it wasn’t exact. Get up.”

You put your phone on top of his book on the side table and glared at him. “Well, yeah, but no need to bop me,” you grumbled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, standing up, and removing your panties as Namjoon reached over to his pants and pulled out a condom from the pocket.

You did say you were coming. Namjoon liked to be prepared for you.

“You said you liked it,” he mused as you straddled his lap.

“I do when I’m notin the middle of an important mission,” you huffed, picking up the hem of your dress and revealing your wet pussy, chin cocked in defiance.

“You don’t have to sit on my dick then,” he said, pausing with the condom right over his cock.

You frowned. “Hurry up.”

He cocked an eyebrow, dark brown eyes trapping you in his allure. “Doesn’t seem like you want it.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Growled.

Then you smacked his hands away and rolled down the condom yourself before sliding onto him with one swift motion, clenching your jaw at the sensation of being quickly and solidly filled up, not giving him or you time to adjust. Namjoon tensed his neck, grinning, large hands coming up to firmly grip your hips. Your own came up to grab his biceps and squeeze them, mustering up your most indignant scowl. He chuckled, smirking as you pulsed your walls around him.

“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to do the moving.”

He clicked his tongue and rammed his hips up into you, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being driven into your tightness. Your nails dug into his arms, breaths shallowing into rapid gasps as he continued, firmly and roughly fucking you from below, hard thighs flexing and smacking into your inner thighs and ass.

“Hold your dress,” he repeated, voice low and commanding.

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered, reaching down with one hand to yank up your dress, pulling it up high so both you and Namjoon could watch as he very deliberately and very forcefully thrust upwards into your tight hole, smirking wider as he witnessed your expression and the strain of keeping the pleasure off your face.

“Don’t have to give orders if…” He jerked up particularly hard, hitting your sweet spot, causing you to gasp breathlessly. “You…” Smack! You bit you lip, moan trapped in your chest. “Just…” Smack!

“F-Fuck…”

“Listen.”

And then Namjoon seized your hips and fucked you hard and fast with you barely holding on his shoulder with one hand and the other clutching your dress, moaning his name shamelessly to his own face. Namjoon wasn’t a gloater. His face was serious and concentrated, brows furrowed and intent on giving maximum pleasure, maintaining clear control as you rapidly lost it, allowing and trusting him to lead you into carnal desires.

You leaned forward, hot exhale on his neck, changing the angle and letting him hit you deeper, tightening around him. You heard his breath hitch, hissing out your name. Your whispered against his jaw, close to his ear.

“You like it better when I don’t listen, Namjoon.”

So close, so close, so close.

He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.

“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”

You slid your hand into his midnight blue hair and shuddered, pleasure blooming from your core in heated throbs, savoring the intensity of the orgasm he gave you as Namjoon groaned in your ear, slamming you down onto his hard, twitching cock and moaning, spilling his own into the condom, thoroughly enjoying the vicious massage of your spasming pussy. You pressed your lips to his temple, flinching with the shivers that came after, riding out the peak by rocking your hips lightly, enjoying the fullness he gave you.

“Doesn’t seem like a punishment. I’m having a lot of fun,” you taunted, panting and mirthful.

He gave your ass a playful smack and you squeezed his length from top to bottom.

“We have time for round two,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear.

Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.

-

kim seokjin.

"Gah, fuck!"

"As a matter of fact, yes, let's."

Kim Seokjin nearly tripped and fell against the doorframe, gawking at you. His expressive brown eyes went wide, mouth open enough for a nice ice lolly to be placed between those plump lips.

"Why are you in my bed? Where are your clothes? Why are you holding Pink Bean like that?!"

You sighed exaggeratedly. Here we go. "I had a nice dress but Namjoon took it and said I can't have it back until after." You squeezed Seokjin's large Pink Bean plush that he usually kept on his bed, a fluffy representation of a boss from his favorite PC game, MapleStory. It had a bubblegum pink head, light purple horns, and a cute :3 face. You squashed it with your breasts and looked up at him, on your knees with your feet tucked under your ass, missing all your articles of clothing thanks to Kim Namjoon.

Such cute clothes only for him? I don’t think so.

Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.

"D-D-Don't do that to Pink Bean!"

"Why not? You've fucked me from behind and I used Pink Bean as my chest support."

He strode across the room with two steps, his long legs making it easy, looking handsome and summery in his pastel yellow shirt and shorts two-piece set, flapping his hands helplessly.

"That was a special case!"

You started bouncing on Pink Bean, you and your tits. Seokjin's brown eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually tripped at the end of his bed, falling face-first with a high-pitched yelp.

"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."

He yanked his head up, chestnut brown hair flying everywhere, shooting you a confused glare.

"Yah! You can't just show up naked and start demanding dick while abusing Pink Bean!"

You reached up and scooped your breasts forward, squashing them between the purple horns, nipples poking out above Pink Bean's head. Seokjin looked like he was about to pass out. Probably from loss of blood to his head.

You balanced your phone in your cleavage, inspirational dick pic between your tits.

"Is this your dick, Seokjinnie?" you asked sweetly.

He started, squinting at the screen between your tits. "The heck? What is that?"

"A dick. Is it yours?"

Seokjin made a disgusted face.

"Are they really that ugly? Mine sure as hell isn't."

"Oh, so it's not? You know for sure?"

Seokjin scoffed. "Come on, there's no way that could be mine, look–"

And he sat up and yanked his shorts and underwear off, slapping them down on the floor and spreading his legs, presenting his very hard and quite pretty dick and balls. He huffed triumphantly, planting his hands in his hips.

"How could that thing compare to–gah!"

You crawled over Pink Bean, shoving the plush against your stomach and placing yourself between Seokjin's long legs, oblivious to his shriek of surprise, holding up his shirt as you compared his cock to the one on your phone.

"What the–where did you g-get that picture?!"

Your hot breath wafted over his twitching length as you held it delicately with your fingertips, ass up in the air, tilting his dick to adjust the angle so he mirrored the photo. "Remember that party with the wet t-shirt contest?” you explained nonchalantly. “The one where I said you'd totally win because of your broad shoulders, but Taehyung got more votes because he had been working out and looking all buff recently?"

Seokjin was gasping as you held up your phone. Hmm, not the same thickness. Plus, he seemed harder, sticking out straighter than this photo dick. But there was a small mole in his dick that seemed to match the picture. The length is pretty spot-on too. You scooted closer, cradling his cock with your palm and coaxing it with your fingertips, ass bouncing on Pink Bean's head.

"Oh, fuck..."

"Anyway, someone snapped this photo and I've been trying to figure out who, but everyone was drunk and, if I recall correctly, you were on a table dancing with a pool noodle and belting Kim Yonja's 'Amor Fati', so I don't think you remember much from that night."

Seokjin's voice was pitched, strained from holding back.

"I remember those... oh, fuck... those shorts you were wearing... ah, with your ass hanging out on the bottom... fuck, wanted to bend you over... but yeah, after that..."

Then you yelped when you felt his hands on your head dragging you forward and pressing your open lips to his cock.

"Ah, yeees..."

"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"

He shoved the head of his cock into your lips and looked down. You narrowed your eyes as he began to gently hump your face, filling your mouth with the hardness. You sucked in your cheeks a little, molding your mouth to him, still giving him your best annoyed face.

"Is it my dick?" he gasped, pushing deeper.

You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.

"Yes or no?"

Seriously? You held up your hand and hovered it in the air, wiggling your fingers up and down, the universal sign of–

"What do you mean, maybe?! Oh, it's because a phone camera isn't good enough to catch the majesty of my cock, is that it?"

You could had been annoyed, but then you thought about it. He brought up a good point. You hadn't considered that. Still, the shape wasn't exact though. A phone camera couldn't alter dick angle, right?

No time to think about it because Seokjin rammed his entire length into your mouth and down your throat in your moment of contemplation.

"Mmmphf!"

"Just, ah, don't move, let me fuck your face real quick–"

You didn't really expect anything less, so you pushed him down, sliding his shirt up his torso, changing the angle so you weren't straining your neck. Seokjin fell onto his elbows, hands letting go but hips still moving, groaning as you enclosed your mouth around him and rubbed your tongue all over.

"Ah, your ass is so sexy, damn, bounce it for me..."

He seemed to forget that in order to do that, you had to hump Pink Bean like a dog in heat but, hey, when the man who called himself World Wide Handsome (drunk and sober, that was the kind of man Kim Seokjin was) asks you to twerk for him, you do as you are told and give Pink Bean the best hump that plush is ever going to have.

"Fuuuuuuuck, yes, your ass is so perky and juicy, fuck, like a sweet peach..."

You tried not to choke with laughter in his dick, but the action made your throat muscles squeeze and spasm around the head, immediately making it jerk and swell at the added simulation, causing Seokjin to gasp your name and fiercely clutch his sheets.

"Fuck, yes...!"

You looked up, cocking an eyebrow, seeing his brown hair messy and fallen over his forehead, eyelids fluttering, panting as you took over the pace, firmly enveloping him all the way to the base, sandwiching him between your tongue and roof of your mouth, dragging the head over the slick wetness, pulsing expertly around his hardness. His dainty pink tongue flitted over his lips and made them glisten, full, plump, sexy as hell.

"I'm so glad Namjoon took your clothes," he wheezed.

This guy really said whatever thought that popped into his handsome head.

You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.

Then you grabbed his hips and really gave it to him, fast and tight, angling your head so he slid into your throat deeply and easily, sending Seokjin into a sputter of curses, prayers, and blessings to who-knew-what, gripping fistfuls of his sheets and throwing his head back, beautiful neck on display and broad shoulders flexed, moaning loudly.

You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.

Then Seokjin thrust his crotch into your lips and gasped your name, shooting down your throat in swift, tense jolts, forcing you to stop staring at him and hurriedly gulp it all down, squeezing your eyes shut so you could concentrate, sucking in a short breath, and making him yelp, flinching to cram more of the head into your constricting throat.

You prodded his stomach sharply and drew an ‘X’, telling him to stop so you could swallow.

“B-But…”

You gave him a bunch of other hand gestures and none of them were nice. It contrasted the way you were lapping at his cock, coaxing him back to full hardness with soft tongue and delicate pushes against the roof of your mouth. He lifted one of his hands and started messing with yours, the one on his stomach making obscene hand signals. You felt him try and grab your fingers, poke at your palm, and, finally, grab your hand and tug it up, shoving your fingers into his mouth.

You popped your mouth off his cock in surprise. “Hey!”

Seokjin looked at you with giant brown eyes like a dog caught with a treat in his mouth. “Mmphf?”

You made a confused face at him.

His tongue started sliding between them, licking your joints and pads of your fingers, wiggling all around, covering you with his saliva and sending shivers over your skin at the strange sensation. You could feel the power in that squirming muscle, his brown eyes watching your reaction, your own eyes fixated on the way it looked, three of your fingers surrounded and crammed into those lush, soft, pillow-like lips, squirming, sensual tongue slipping between them, dripping saliva down your palm and back of your hand.

“H-Hey…”

It was bizarre, feeling an odd juxtaposition of the submissive nature of the act, and yet he was deliberate and forceful about it, staring pointedly as the tip of his tongue snaked out from the side of his lips, licking the side of your pinky.

“S… Seokjin…?”

He reached up and pulled your hand out of his mouth, the pads of your fingers dragging on his lower lip, wet streaks of saliva painted down his chin.

The ghost of a smirk on his open mouth, eyebrow ticking arrogantly.

You blinked at him, unaware that you were clutching Pink Bean with your other hand so hard that your knuckles were white.

Then Seokjin grinned and wrapped your wet hand around his dick and started jacking himself off with it.

“Hey! I want that in me!”

“What? Gah!”

Somehow, you convinced him to fuck you – read: threw Seokjin down on his own bed, put a condom on him, rolled him back on top of you and guided his cock to your pussy before grabbing his ass and yanking down, making you both gasp as he entered you with one smooth stroke, your back on top of Pink Bean.

Pink Bean was really seeing a lot of your naked body today, just like Kim Seokjin.

“F-Fuck– yah!”

That was his noise of protest as you yanked his yellow shirt over his head, throwing it as far as you could, out his still open bedroom door.

“Sorry, needed to get rid of useless things.”

“I like that shirt!”

You grabbed onto his wide shoulders and rolled your hips up into his crotch, wrapping your thighs around his waist and squeezing. He sputtered at the intense feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, arms shaking to hold himself up, brown hair messy and wild over his forehead, brown eyes wide in indignation.

“Sorry, my bad, I’ll pick it up after I get another out of this magnificent dick,” you quipped.

Seokjin turned red, unaccustomed to someone other than himself complimenting him.

“Why are you hanging onto me like a monkey – oh my God…!”

You used his mattress and Pink Bean to bounce up and down on his dick from below, fingers tangled in his hair, wetly smacking your hips into his crotch, panting his name into his ear, your cock feels so fucking good, love the way you fill me, fuck me up, Seokjin, giving him the praise that he wanted and that breathless moan he liked, the one where you added a bit of underlying mischievous depth, pulling back one of your hands and tracing his plush lips, his mouth opening and pink tongue lolling out, puling you into that wetness, locking his gaze with yours.

Soft and tight around two of your fingers as you slapped your hips into his, losing a bit of your power now that a hand was occupied, intense sparks shooting from your fingertips to your core, his tongue sliding sensually between them, your juices leaking out, getting wetter and wetter, head emptying and replaced with sinful pleasure as you stared into those dark brown orbs with blown-out pupils, sparkling eyes smiling at you.

Seokjin took over and started fucking you into his mattress (and Pink Bean).

Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.

-

min yoongi.

"Ah, fuck, I forgot, I need to see your dick, f-fuck!"

"It's," Smack! "A," Smack! "Little," Smack! "Busy at the moment."

"Yoongi!"

The bed shifted and hit the wall.

"Oh no," came the most unbothered oh no behind you.

"Your damn neighbors are going to complain again," you hissed, planting your hands on the mattress and lifting your upper body up a little to scowl at him. "They're so annoying."

"Yeah, that's why I like fucking you," Min Yoongi snickered, looking back with his curly black mullet in complete disarray, smirking lips dark and swollen from making out. He raised an eyebrow at your displeased expression, dark brown eyes flashing. "Something wrong? Not rough enough for you?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I need to see your dick when it's fully hard."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. After this one."

"Yoongi–"

He cut you off. "Hand," he ordered.

You extended your left hand out back to him and he grabbed your forearm, long fingers gripping tightly, before proceeding his railing of your pussy from behind, your ass smacking into his crotch repeatedly.

"Yoongi – ah, oof!"

You slipped and fell face first into his pillows, gasping at the altered depth of each thrust, hard and deliberate, filling you up as you clenched around him, following his rhythm by pushing back with your hips and moaning as Yoongi slowly built up the pace, bottoming out each time.

"Why do you need to see my dick?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't pounding you with it right this very second.

"Because, oh fuck, someone left a, fuck, Yoongi, yes, dick pic on my phone, aaah, right there, fuck, you're so fucking good, that night of the party, the one with the wet t-shirt c-contest, fuck, Yoongi, I love your dick so much, fuck!"

"Why would I do that?" he grunted, spanking your ass with his free hand and making you claw at his sheets, pain seeping into the pleasure and amplifying it, skin prickling hot, causing the excessive dripping between your joined legs. The headboard was now repeatedly smacking the wall.

"I dunno, you were drunk too, do you remember, mmm, yes, harder, yeah, like that, telling Taehyung you loved him and that he was your favorite little alien child?"

Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.

"No, I do not..."

"See, maybe you jacked off and snapped a memoir on my phone."

Yoongi let go of your arm and firmly gripped your ass with two hands.

"Memoirs are written."

"Maybe if they wrote their name, I wouldn't be on this journey – ah, Yoongi!"

You grabbed fistful of sheets and snapped yourself back up, your hair messy and cascading down your shoulders, meeting every vicious slap of Yoongi's hips to yours, his balls hitting your soaked clit and sending stings of satisfaction from your core to your limbs, so good, moaning his name, his growl of yours punctuated by his nails digging into your ass, give it to me, come on, and you fucked him back, pressing your palms into his sheets and feeling the shuddering ecstasy again and again, deep pulses tightening around his hardness, making him groan with want.

"One more, one more, I'm so fucking close, fuck..."

"You've been close, you're holding back, you're a dick, ow!"

Yoongi smacked your ass particularly hard and you clenched your core so tight that he gasped and probably delayed his orgasm even further.

"You're the one asking to see it," he panted, adjusting the angle to shove you further into his bed even though it wasn't possible, and continued his relentless assault in your pussy.

"If anyone has a nice dick, it's you, you bas... fuuuuuuuck, Yoongi, yes, I'm gonna c-cum, fuck!"

The pleasure shot through you like lightning, waves of tortuous triumph as you clutched his pillow and screamed his name into it, your juices leaking out from around his pumping cock and splattering onto his crotch and inner thighs, drenching his balls, saturating his skin with your sweet scent, Yoongi moaning your name and squeezing your ass as he fully sheathed himself in your shaking walls and exploded into the condom, his whole length twitching and shivering inside your spasming pussy, your ass prickling on pain, both of you gasping for air.

Someone on the other side of the wall was banging it and told you two to shut the fuck up, or at least you assumed that's what that muffled yelling was.

You and Yoongi ignored it.

"Are you... hah... okay?" Yoongi panted, rubbing your ass and kneading it.

"Of course, I am, what do you take me for, an amateur?" you chuckled, lifting your head, your breathing erratic and uneven. "Now let me see your dick, Yoongi."

The other side of the wall kept swearing. Very colorful, very loud, very upsetti in the spaghetti.

Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.

"Fuck, fine, you know I like staying in there at least for a little while..." he grumbled, holding the condom down as you untangled yourself from his body, sighing exaggeratedly as you turned around and yanked it off. You tossed it into the trashcan that was already beside the bed.

Yoongi had the foresight to be prepared for a night with you.

"I don't have to leave soon. We have plenty of time."

The shouting through the wall seemed to have given up, kicking it once and swearing very heatedly before stomping off.

"You better not. I'm not finished with you."

You picked up your phone and unlocked it, opening your photo gallery, pushing Yoongi down so you could wrap your fingers around his slick, semi-hard cock. It throbbed contentedly in your hand as you began to move it up and down in smooth, tight strokes, flexing your fingers to add variation in the stimulation.

"Mmm, fuck, yeah, faster..."

You pulled the photo up and put your phone on the bed beside his hip and calmly continued your movements, looking down at him, him and fair-skinned cheeks with a slight fluffiness to them, him and his lightly upturned upper lip that gave him a cat-like appearance, him and his lowered lashes over black-brown orbs that held quiet, sensual intelligence. His hair was messy from fucking you so hard, but he was effortlessly sexy regardless, leaning back on his elbows, torso lifted to watch your hand. Yoongi noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow, wispy black strands grazing his dark brow.

“What?”

You smiled.

“Just thinking you’re really hot, Yoongi.”

He cringed slightly, ears turning pink and shifted his eyes away, closing them. Your own roamed down, down his defined shoulders and toned arms and chest, sucking in a breath at the sight, that slim waist and pretty hips, his cock filling up your hand, getting harder and harder, the head getting darker from sensitivity, the slickness of the lube and his own cum making it easier for you and better for him. Your other hand traced his side, running your nails over it and you heard his low moan, raising your head and your eyes found his. He was observing you again, glancing from the photo to you, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, ticking his head to the screen.

“That it?”

You ran your nails over his skin, just the way he liked it, light, pressing in a little when it came to the upper side of his hip, seeing his pupils expand and his breathing shallow, pink tongue licking his lips slowly.

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.

You increased the pace, pumping him from base to head, entranced by Yoongi’s expression, desire and cockiness despite becoming unraveled in your hands, his lower body trembling under you, your thighs pressed to his tense ones, tempting you to sit on and rub yourself all over them.

“Pretty dick.”

Slap, slap, slap. Hand on wet cock, sending shivers through you and through him.

“That’s why it could be yours.”

You saw his cheeks flush light pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he made piercing eye contact.

“Stop.”

You gasped sharply and ceased all movement, feeling his rigid stiffness pulse against your palm.

“Look,” Yoongi commanded in that low, raspy voice of his.

You bit your lip and removed your hand, strings of fluids snapping between your fingers and his hot, taut skin. His cock was so hard that it was sticking straight up, dark and imposing, twitching slightly. Long pale fingers picked up your phone and held it next to his erection.

“Well?” he chuckled.

You chewed on your lip, squinting at the screen. Reached over and ran your wet fingers over his twitching length, hearing Yoongi hiss and gasp at your touch as you angled his dick to match up with the photo. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult – the position seemed to match up perfectly. He was a little taller and thicker though. The shape of the head was similar, but also a bit off. The skin tone wasn’t quite correct either, the red-purple with subtly differing undertones. Still, lighting might affect that kind of detail. It wasn’t like you knew where this picture was taken.

“Hm… It’s really close, but not an exact match.”

“Well, damn.”

Yoongi tossed your phone aside carelessly, hand reaching out and you bent down, already knowing what he wanted, lips to lips, sliding against his body. You loved the way he kissed. Intense but soft, hand on your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek, nail grazing your earlobe, whispering into your lips, put me between your thighs, and you shifting up, closing your thighs around his wet cock, his lustful sigh and smirk on your lips, slowly thrusting in between your legs.

“Tighter.”

You hooked your ankles, one over the another and squeezed.

“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”

His words reminded you of the first time, crammed into the backseat of a small car, snuck out of a party to have Min Yoongi pull you into his grasp, tongue and lips all over you, your arms over his shoulders, wondering what you were doing because this kind of guy wasn’t your type, quiet, yes, a music nerd, yes, however he knew what he was doing, light bites on you skin making you gasp and slide down his jean-covered thigh, delicious friction to your soaked panties, tipping your head back to give that decadent mouth more access to your throat.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. A certain someone was probably wondering where you were.

“Yoongi, how… fuck, yes, how are you so good… you’re so good…”

His deep voice over your vocal cords, vibrating them with his seductive tone.

“DND your phone,” he purred, drawing a line down your throat with his tongue, coating you with his saliva, his musky, woody cologne transferring to your shivering skin.

“What…?” you panted, unable to think straight.

He plucked it out of your back pocket, tapping it against your arm.

“Put it on do not disturb and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll be coming back to me all the time.”

You fumbled with your phone, strong hands scooping out your breasts from your top, those lips sinking into your cleavage and tongue ghosting over your nipples, moaning as you dropped it, ignoring Park Jimin’s text, lost in those skillful hands and that expert mouth that eventually kissed down to your pussy and drove you crazy, but not before setting your skin on fire and making you beg for it.

“Yoongi…”

His lips on yours, his eyes and your eyes both half-open, marveling at the way his lashes adorned those black brown orbs and the way he looked at you, drunk on lust and your body.

“You want me?”

Hands on your hips, grinding you down on his thigh, teasing you. He wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type… so why, why did that sly, knowing gaze do things to you? Why did it make your heartbeat stutter and your juices seep into the denim of his jeans, so turned on that you didn’t want anything else right now but Min Yoongi?

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Y… Yeah…”

That smirk.

“I know you do.”

You did end up coming back all the time.

He was very good and it wasn’t just his mouth.

Yoongi backed up and smirked, open-mouthed, mischievous, so fucking hot that you felt your pussy throb at the mere sight, his warm, pulsing length still jammed between your soft, closed thighs.

“You wanna ride my dick?”

You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You completely forgot about the photo and spent the rest of the night on Yoongi’s cock and ignoring the yelling from his neighbors.

-

jung hoseok.

“Hoseokie…”

Teeth on your ear, a dexterous, teasing tongue flicking your earrings, your name coming out of that heart-shaped smile in a low, sultry whisper that contrasted it.

“You can’t come here looking like this and not expect me to want to ruin you,” Jung Hoseok purred into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your lips curved into a smile.

You were on your knees, spread out a little, short black minidress hiked up your thighs, facing the mirrors of the dance studio. Hoseok knelt behind you, hands travelling all over your body. Deft fingers, neatly manicured nails, his sharp jaw grazing your shoulder, pulling down the thin straps. Your large hoodie was tossed to the side, scattered onto the hardwood floor in haste. The frosted door of Smile Hoya’s rented dance studio space was locked, hip-hop music blaring loudly, and in the center was you and Hoseok.

You knew he could hear your shuddering exhale well, already attuned to the sounds of your pleasure.

He smirked and kissed the top of your ear, yanking down the top of your dress.

It wasn’t like this the first time.

“Ah, well, I was hoping… wondering, ah… I don’t know how to say…?”

You were in his bedroom at the time, confused. “Yoongi said you wanted to talk to me about something? What is it, Hoseok?”

He had been very nervous, somewhat shaky, staring into your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand, tilting your head. He took a moment to speak, hiding his brown eyes under his blond hair.

“Uh, well, I was talking to hyung and I mentioned I… I feel like I have to put up a front sometimes. Because I’m so happy and stuff. Women expect me to be like that… in bed… And he suggested that maybe you could help me… chill out, but, uh, that’s really rude to say, ah, I shouldn’t have–”

He tried to yank his hand out of yours in panic but you held on, tugged forward by his movement. Hoseok squeaked, ears turning red, freezing in place.

“Hey.”

You held his hand and patted it with your free one, smiling gently.

“I absolutely can help you chill out when it comes to sex. What do you want to know? What do you want to do? I’ll teach you.”

You noticed his expression change from panic to worry, chewing on his lip.

“N… No, you misunderstand… It’s not having sex, I…”

He trailed off, suddenly silent. You frowned slightly, nudging him. Hoseok cleared his throat and looked you dead in the eye.

“I’m not nice.”

Now he squeezed your hand tightly, breathing in your scent.

“Or rather, I don’t want to be nice when I fuck. Sometimes I want to let go and just…” He frowned, not seeming to know the word.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear.

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t want to think about an image I have to uphold.”

You grinned. “Yoongi did direct you to the right woman.”

His blond hair was even lighter now, the tips dyed with navy, a soft, sexy contrast to his rich tan skin. This was now many, many fucks later, hooking up at parties, at random times at his apartment, and now at the space he rented to practice dance on his own. Hoseok liked to freestyle and feel the music. When he fucked, he liked to feel the moment.

His hands gripped your breasts and squeezed, sandwiching your nipples between his index and middle finger, tugging hard.

You gasped in his hands, just what he wanted, open-mouthed smirk and all.

“Hoseok… I have to… ah, ask you something…”

He shoved his hips into your back and you gasped at the thinness of his shorts, rubbing his hardening cock against the top of your ass. A brown orb watched you through the mirror and he was smiling that brilliant, heart-shaped smile, contrasting his forceful touch.

“What do you want to ask?” he chirped cheerfully, pinching your nipples and twisting them.

You moaned, savoring the swift, firm pain followed by the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of your nipples, grinding your ass onto his stiff length. Your phone was in your right hand. You bit your lip, seeing him watch you carefully in the mirror. You raised the phone and unlocked it.

“Is this your dick?”

You noticed Hoseok pause and squint. You turned your phone and held at up so he could get a good look. His hands were still on your tits, although he had paused the moment to view the image, blinking rapidly at it.

“When was this taken?” He tilted his head, looking confused.

“The party with the wet t-shirt contest? The–”

“One where Yoongi grabbed Taehyung and told him he was his favorite alien child?”

“Oh? You do remember?”

Hoseok winced, as if the events of the night haunted him. “I remember… not much after that…”

“Oh…” You faltered. “So you wouldn’t remember if you took this picture on my phone, huh?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then… can I see it?”

He grinned. “You have to earn it.”

Earning it could mean anything.

Today, earning it meant cumming at least three times with Hoseok’s fingers before he even let you take off his shorts.

“H-Hoseok…!”

He always smelled so good, so fucking good, orange and musk complemented with the barely-there vanilla sweetness, a scent that always seemed to linger on your skin afterward. His lips were on your neck, leaving small bites, chuckling darkly. One hand on your nipple, the other between your legs, your dress bunched at the waist and your panties at your knees, not letting you take any of it off, forcing you to watch yourself as he wrecked you, teasing your oversensitive clit with his fingertips, slick and slippery, thighs shaking from the second orgasm and coaxing you to the third, sharp throbs of lust causing your eyes to roll back, head falling against his shoulder.

“Hoseok, p-please…”

He had no trouble holding onto you, flexible and strong, and you were grinding your hips down, lost in the feeling, leaking everywhere because he hadn’t actually put his fingers inside you yet, teasing you and teasing you and teasing you, driving you crazy, please put your fingers inside me, please Hoseok, your name murmured gently in your ear, no, not until the third time, and then I’m going to put my cock in you once you’ve shown me how good of a girl you are, and you were going to lose your mind, shivering in continued ecstasy, squirming in his hands, your own reaching back and fisting his hair and white shirt, moans masked by the loud music, so close, so close, your perfume mixing with his, sex and cologne, shivers and heat, teeth on your ear and circles rubbed onto your aching nerves.

Shallow gasps.

Peaking pleasure.

Seeing nothing but black, eyelids fluttering, wanton moans torn from your throat.

The song ended.

Hoseok removed his hand from your nipple and covered your mouth, muffling your scream as you came, taking your air and your sanity, pleasure rocketing up your core, crying out with need for something, anything, inside you, pushing your hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock swell at your bouncing ass, desperate for him.

The music began again.

Now you were on your hands and knees, suddenly released, gasping for breath, legs shaking from the aftershocks.

“Look.”

Turning around, your shaking hands pulling down his shorts hurriedly, still wearing your black dress and panties around your knees, hardly registering the inconvenience, not caring, completely focused on the semi-hard length in front of your face. No time. Hoseok gave you no time, grabbing your face and dragging your open mouth to him, sliding into your lips, his oversized shirt touching your nose, you whimpering at the hotness and tautness of his velvet skin. The fullness invaded your throat, taking your breath away. He buried himself all the way in before yanking his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside with his vest that was shed earlier, far too hot now, looking down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t choke.”

Hand in your hair, pushing you down, not letting you move as he rolled his hips into your face, the head rubbing against the rood of your mouth and your tongue pushing it up to make it tighter for him, taking him deeper, hazy and intoxicated on orange, musk and vanilla. His other hand held your phone up, unlocking it with ease.

Smirk on those lips, heart-shaped and teasing. “So? Is it mine?”

You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.

“Your choice,” Hoseok chuckled, tone light and unassuming, the edge of danger only visible in those sparkling brown eyes. “Find out or I’ll cum in your mouth and not in that pretty pussy of yours I’m looking at right now.”

Right, because you were bent over, ass facing the mirror, wetness dripping down your inner thighs.

Fuck.

You backed up, growling, glaring at the picture you knew all too well now.

“Well?”

Fine, fine, fine, you were on this fucking Journey to the Dick, and it was starting to feel more like an annoying side mission than the actual main storyline, but, whatever, you reached up and angled Hoseok’s cock slightly, sucking in a breath with him as you looked from phone screen to the delicious real-life specimen. Hm, okay. Similar in length and color. Not in angle though. Shit. And not in width either, barely a hair slimmer and the vein placement was more prominent on Hoseok’s length than this dick.

“Fuck, it’s really fucking close but I don’t think it’s yours.”

“Shit,” Hoseok sighed, turning your phone off and tossing it onto his discarded shirt. “Oh well.”

You narrowed your eyes, pouting. “What kind of react–gah!”

Hoseok pushed you down onto the ground, pushing his shorts down to his knees and pulling out a condom from the pocket, cocking a brow. You sputtered, trying to untangle yourself from the labyrinth of your own clothes, but only managed to kick off your panties before he got the condom rolled down and pushed your legs up, lifting your ass completely off the floor.

“Can’t have this pretty ass on this dirty floor,” he snickered, lifting himself higher, bending you in half, almost on your upper back, nearly uncomfortable, but Hoseok was stronger than he looked, and when he gave you what you needed, you instantly forgot about the discomfort.

“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”

He plunged into you, into hot wet tightness, stretching you out easily from the previous wetness, clit throbbing as he smacked his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass, drawing out another moan as his fingers brushed your clit, making you spasm and clench around his cock as he teased the overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, so wet, so desperate for a cock to fill this hole, aren’t you?” he purred, still so sweet but with such dirty words, so handsome with his blond hair and navy tips, heart-shaped smirk and glittering eyes, and the way he said your name, dainty and serene, slowly thrusting into you, but so hard, he was so hard from being inside you, completely consumed by the physicality of the act and no longer the same man who had been worrying about how you would perceive him.

That seemed ages ago now.

Your hands reached up between your legs, running your fingers through his hair, completely forgetting about the photo of the mysterious dick and focused on the one thrusting between your legs, smiling up at him, those brown eyes and lovely jaw.

“You’re so good, Hoseok, so fucking good to me, fuck, harder, yes, ah…”

Both of you forgot about the music, fucking through the pause between them, hoping that everyone else was too busy with their own choreography to think about the hot gasps and moans exchanged between you and him in the middle of the room, the act reflected in the wall of mirrors, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls, your name and his name in breathless whispers, tight and full and hot and wet and soaring on sky-high pleasure, climbing altitude and running out of oxygen.

“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”

“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”

Tip, free-fall, you clamping a hand over Hoseok’s mouth and his hand over yours, screaming into each other’s palms at the intensity and the force of orgasm, smacking your hips together and holding them there, feeling his cock twitch inside you and your shivering walls clamp around him in rough, intense pulses.

It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.

“Hah… we should… probably not fuck here…” he gasped, falling a little, cradling your ass so it didn’t directly touch the floor.

“I’d fuck you anywhere, so that’s your fault. You need to be the voice of reason.”

He laughed, rich and infectious, and you grinned, holding his head against your breasts and hugging him tightly.

-

park jimin.

“I hate you.”

“Come on, Jimin.”

"I was supposed to be first!"

"Oh my God, are we going on about this again?!"

"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"

"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"

"No!"

You tackled him and you both fell to the floor, rolling into a mess of giant t-shirts, fierce kisses and your hands in his now red hair, fiery and hot-headed like he was being right now.

"You little–"

"Don't you dare call me little!"

"I was gonna call you a little shithead but if you wanna be a big shithead, that's fine with me!"

He pinned you down and you grabbed his waist with your legs and rammed your crotch into his black shorts, making him gasp in horny pain and crumple into his laundry that you were supposed to help him fold, but instead you were wrestling and he was complaining about not getting his dick sucked.

It was your turn to pin him down with your arms and your thighs, Jimin seeing stars as he struggled to breathe from your lower belly smacking his erection the wrong way.

"Why, ack, why did you run off saying there's a proper order?" he choked out, choking harder as your panty-covered mound sat down on his length and started rubbing up and down, smirking down at him, his red hair flaring out on his cream rug.

"'Cause there is," you replied, calm and cool.

"Order of what? Order of how you fucked us?"

"Nah, I fucked Yoongi first, remember? At that party, ages ago..." you hummed, extending the expanse of your movement, sliding up and down his thighs, his plush lips open and moaning softly, his grip on your large t-shirt tightening. It was actually his, because neither you nor Jimin knew the meaning of keeping your clothes on.

"Yeah, in my car!"

"Eh, you were drunk and playing pool with Taehyung, which, by the way, he mad cheated and you didn't even notice."

"Fuck!"

You weren't sure if that exclamation was related to your teasing or Taehyung cheating, but Jimin removed one of his hands from your shirt and flipped off the wall, in the direction of Taehyung's room.

Ah, so not you.

"Is it age order? But Namjoon isn't the oldest..." Jimin refuted himself, frowning.

"He’s first because he's kind of like the leader of you guys, isn't he? You all end up listening to his reasoning anyway."

Jimin squinted, pouting. "That's just because his tall and smart and has a fatty IQ."

You grinned. "148."

Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.

“I never thought about it, but other than that, it is age order, huh?” you mused, bouncing on his dick.

He shuddered with satisfaction, rolling his hips into you. “Then why would you…?”

You shrugged. “Your names sound good together like that. Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook…”

Jimin added your name last with an amused smirk. You bit your lower lip, cocking an eyebrow and sporting a devious smile, leaning down. Lips to lips, a soft sigh, remembering that night, stumbling out of Jimin’s car and tangled in Yoongi’s touch, still kissing Yoongi with your ass on the hood of the car. Jimin had been annoyed at you then too, how could you fuck him first and not me, Yoongi laughing in that raspy, sexy way of his, because I asked, dumbass, Jimin grabbing your face and kissing you right in front of Yoongi, the older man clicking his tongue and squeezing your ass tighter, unimpressed.

In some ways, that night started off the chain reaction of hey, why not me?

Okay, maybe you did have some frustrations about your dating life and ended up tumbling into their beds for, ahem, emotional support, but in your defense, they were all great when it came to emotional support.

“Sit on my face.”

“That’s not the angle of the dick pic though.”

“Then just take the pic from that position. That’s how it was taken, right?”

Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.

He was great at eating pussy too.

“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”

A little messy at first, humming approvingly at your taste, thrusting his tongue into you and moaning as your muscles closed in on it, your slick nectar painting those beautiful, soft lips, him pressing them to your heat, lewd kisses, tongue swiping up and down.

“Gotta clean you up so you can dirty me up,” he breathed, tracing sensual patterns in between your thighs with his tongue, small nips to make you whine, his hands on your ass, moaning into your pussy as your kiss came into contact with his rigid cock, dripping saliva and licking it back up, gyrating your tongue at the tip and licking off the pre-cum, savoring the taste, strong and almost sweet.

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was frustrated with you.

“Fuck, give it to me.”

His hands on your ass, pushing you down, setting your pussy flush onto his lips, blocking off his airway and moaning hotly, desperate, needy, wanting your noises as you swallowed him, his length swelling in your mouth at the wet encasement, swirling your tongue all around.

You’re so mean. I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first, get on your knees, come on, aren’t you sorry?

You weren’t, not even in the slightest bit sorry for fucking Yoongi in his car, but you had enjoyed his little pout and twinge of jealousy, kisses up his muscular thighs, the same thighs you were clutching right now, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear, remembering his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, the same cock you buried all the way into the back of your throat, blocking your own ability to breathe, suffocating on it as Jimin groaned, coming back up for air, rushing exhale washing over your skin before returning to his work on your clit, rapid, intense licks that shimmered pleasure through your veins.

Jimin made you choke on his dick after the Yoongi incident, but you were the one in control of it now, rutting the head against your throat muscles, feeling it get harder and harder. He always felt so good in your mouth, recalling him saying once, I just really like getting my dick sucked, shut up and stop shaming me, tongue and lips and saliva, remembering how much he liked it when you held the base and focused on the tip, his muffled whines getting more intense and vibrating your core, making sure to pop your lips over the bottom of the head every time you came up and then pressing them tightly as you went back down, doing it all at that fast, suffocating pace that made him stop licking you to throw his head back and moan, loud lust radiating off the walls, not caring about disturbing anyone, too absorbed into your pace to be considerate.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck, you’re so good…”

Jimin was part of the reason you were good.

He really liked getting his dick sucked. Your mouth was one of his favorites and usually readily available.

Win-win.

“Faster, fuck, oh, shit, I’m gonna cum, mmmphf!”

He grabbed your ass and smothering himself with your pussy, body trembling under you as his cock jerked and shot into your throat, your lips closing in, sucking hard to drink his cum, his moans filling your wet hole and tongue all over your clit, furiously licking as you rubbed the twitching head into the roof of your mouth, his hips squirming at the overstimulation, but his violent grip and nails digging into your ass was telling you to do it, telling you he loved it, telling you he needed it, begging you to do what you did best, gulping around the head and then jamming it into your throat, cutting off your air.

He sucked on your clit, hard, whining so loud that you could feel it in his chest and racing heartbeat pressed against your lower belly, almost lifting your lower half with his upper body alone, showing off his strength from dancing. You angled your head, taking as much as you could, nose in his balls, whimpering around his cock and the snap of orgasm making your entire body flinch, leaking all over his face and into his mouth, his nose buried into your pussy, tongue soothing your throbbing clit, wave after intense wave, barely breathing, lightheaded with pleasure, clutching his thighs tightly, naked bodies suddenly dirty, surrounded by clean laundry.

Jimin yanked his head out from between your legs, panting in satisfaction, diving back in to shove his tongue on your quivering hole and scoop out your orgasm, sucking it out to drink it, murmuring your name into your slick juices.

“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”

You came up for air, gasping, tongue lolling out, holding his cock and rubbing the slit against your wet muscle. His stiff length twitched, still hard because of your mouth.

“Take the picture, mmm, yes, did you forget?” Jimin gasped into your pussy.

You fumbled with your phone beside his leg, still reeling from orgasm and Jimin’s continued ministrations, putting it in selfie mode and seeing the lower half of your face, chin shiny with saliva, his cum dripping off your lower lip, his cock in front of your face and naked chest, your breasts pressed into his abs.

You thought about licking off the visible cum, but then you decided against it, snapping the photo with your tongue hovering close to his rock-hard erection.

You knew the composition of the inspirational dick pic now, so you brought it up in a photo editing app, putting the two side by side while wrapping your lips around the head of Jimin’s cock, sucking it leisurely like a lollipop. He didn’t ask you to get off.

Instead, he planted your pussy into his face and suffocated himself with it again.

You studied the two photos. Hm. Firstly, yours was much sexier. No offense to white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black boxer briefs guy, but your glistening cum-covered lips and squashed tits in the background of the cock made the photo eons better than his. Jimin would definitely be asking for yours later. Anyway, back to the picture. Hmm. Jimin’s dick was slightly shorter and straighter, with a warmer skin tone to his purple-red tip, although the head shape was spot on. Was that possible to have a different length but almost identical head shapes? Did dicks work that way? Did Jimin have an equally sexy twin brother or doppelganger somewhere?

Hm, a threesome with basically two Jimins would be hot as hell.

He patted your leg and you climbed off him, sighing as you rolled over and pursed your lips, concluding that his wasn’t the mystery dick. Once again, close, but no dick. Wait. That wasn’t the saying. Eh, whatever.

“Fuck, send me that photo later, I’m gonna jack off to it.”

You laughed, feeling him crawl beside you and roll you onto your stomach, pinning you down with his naked body. “You wanna jack it to your own dick?”

He was rubbing said dick into the crevice of your ass cheeks now, using your saliva was lube. “Fuck yeah I wanna jack it to my own dick with your lips covered with my cum and your titties on my stomach, sounds fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”

“And you aren’t?”

The front door slammed shut. There was a loud yell of your name in deep baritone.

“Aw, hell no, I’m getting it in this pussy first, I got time before he comes to collect,” Jimin growled, reaching into his discarded shorts and ripping open a condom, scrambling off you and rolling it down his still-hard length, grabbing one of your legs.

You shifted to your side, glaring at him. “What am I, taxes?”

The deep voice called your name again, asking where you were.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer though, because Jimin thrust into you and you ended up moaning Kim Taeyang’s name to inform him of your whereabouts, causing Jimin to bend over and fuck you hard and rough.

“I can’t believe you would moan his name like that with my dick inside you,” Jimin growled, looking far too cute to actually be pissed at you. “Gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be sore for him.”

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was firmly fucking you into his floor and making you yelp as Taehyung burst the door open, sighing at the scene.

“Who would have fucking guessed what you two are doing…”

-

kim taehyung.

"You're so fucking stubborn."

"Wow, that's really rude, I don't make comments about your–"

"Shut up, I'm deleting his number."

You narrowed your eyes and frowned, sitting with one leg bent on Kim Taehyung's bed. He was currently in possession of your phone, clicking his tongue and pressing buttons on the screen.

"When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone," he scolded.

You cowered slightly, eyes shifting. "I was only asking if he was doing anything this weekend... I didn't have any ulterior motives..."

Taehyung squinted. You deliberately avoided his gaze. He sighed, crossing his arms. You were still wearing Jimin's shirt with nothing underneath so, uh, maybe he had good reason to be suspicious.

"You have a virgin kink."

You choked on nothing. "What, no, I don't–"

Taehyung reached over to his desk and put on the thin, gold-framed glasses he kept there. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. You abruptly stopped talking and gawked at him, breathless at the way his dark brown orbs were bordered by gold and his long, black-brown hair, the rest tied back in a small ponytail.

"And a glasses kink."

He took them off and you sucked in a tight breath, grimacing.

"That's why you keep going after these kinds of guys," Taehyung tutted, neatly folding the specs and placing them back on his desk. "And why you bonked Namjoon-hyung so fast, only to realize that he is not, in fact, a virgin."

"W-Well, he's still good..."

"Same reason why you got so excited when–"

"Look," you cut in, chopping the air with your hand, not letting Taehyung finish. His eyebrow seemed permanently raised. "I'm off my bullshit for now, no? I've got a mission–" You pointed to your phone and he held it out of your reach. You scowled and bounced back down into the bed. His eyes weren't following your face, but you ignored it. "–and I'll stop okay?"

Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.

"Serious. You just deleted all the numbers except you and your friends, right?"

He turned the screen, thumb hovering over a certain number. Him and his friends were listed from one to seven, in order.

His thumb was over number seven.

"Don't," you whined. "Please, Tae."

His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.

Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.

"Silly girl," he drawled, crawling onto the bed, advancing towards you, sultry gaze and enchanting eyes making you forget about your device. "Why would I do that? He likes you so much."

You growled slightly, letting him push you down but not relenting. "That's really fucked up."

"That I wanna hear you say please?"

His hand lifted and cupped your chin, mischievous smile, unable to contain his pride for his little trick, sliding his leg between your thighs, tilting his head.

"Not just any please," he murmured, deep voice silky smooth, dark curled stands brushing against your cheeks he leaned in, hot exhale on your lips. "Your needy please when I threaten to take your precious Jungkookie from you."

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his knee, tilting his head, highly amused at your narrowed eyes.

"You don't like it?" He was leaning down, feathery kisses on your lips and cheeks. "I know you like it when I tease you." His honey voice was dripping into the fire, turning into fuel that fed the sparks of arousal, your hands coming up to clutch his black shirt, pulling down the center zipper, his deep chuckle in your skin, hand from your chin sliding up to your hair, the other tapping down your front, grazing the thin t-shirt material.

"Don't..." you gasped, his deft touch toying with the hem. “Don't use the others against me. That's not fair...”

“Mmm, yeah?”

Drawing circles on your inner thigh with his nail, nicking the skin.

"You only want to think about me?"

Your phone hummed with a notification. Taehyung chuckled, fingers creeping closer and closer.

"Aw, I wonder who that is? But that's too bad, because you're all mine right now."

You gasped, clutching his open shirt as his fingers slid in, two because you were already wet, shallow breathing and lidded eyes telling him enough, taking your lips with his, pace slow and steady and maddening, spreading your legs with his knees, forcing you to tip your hips up to him in an embarrassing position.

Then again, embarrassment during sex wasn't part of your vocabulary.

You pushed his black shirt down one shoulder and reached in, your fingers snaking to the hem of the white undershirt and stroking his skin, his satisfied exhale hot against your neck, you remembering the way the water drenched the fabric and stuck it to his golden tan skin, playfully flexing his defined chest and biceps, adorable and arousing because Kim Taehyung was both. He separated his digits inside your pussy to create a loud, sharp, wet squelch. You heard him grin, smug at the dirty sound, then begin plunging his fingers in and out, in and out of the tightness, trying to be as noisy as possible. You clenched your core to make him work for it, force him to be rougher with you, his fingers curling in your hair, yanking firmly, lips on your ear.

"See, how can those boys you pick keep up with you, hm? They won't know what to do with your pretty, sexy self," he purred, faster, harder, pushing you to the edge with your heated moan and your hands all over his chest, lifting your hips to meet his touch. "You need us to take care of you, don't you?"

Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.

Like it was a decadent sweet he was craving, a taste compared to no other.

Your head fell back into the pillows, breathing in his warm scent in shallow puffs, his name pouring out of your lips, yearning and desire.

"Mmmm, Taehyung...."

Melting you into it, sweet bliss and sharp jerks of your hips into his hand, gasping at the flood of euphoria, trying to squeeze your thighs around his hand and stopped by his open legs. Your throbbing pussy gripped his fingers and made him hiss, his devious smirk growing as you lowered your chin again to look into those dark eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.

“Let’s play a little game.”

His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.

“It’s called, how many fingers can I stuff in you before you’re begging for my dick?”

“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”

One more.

Aching tightness, clenching your jaw, trembling at the ease of it, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, yeah, three’s too easy, huh? You already warmed up.”

One more.

“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”

His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.

“That’s better. That’s what I wanna hear.”

Whines in your throat as he picked up the pace, fast and hard, clutching his shirt and his side, your nails digging in, stretched out and stuffed with four, your eyes rolling back and one leg sliding up to hook around his waist, meeting each thrust, so deep, so full, so wet, loud and obvious and uncaring of who was listening – probably Jimin with a huge smirk on his face – panting Taehyung’s name over and over, feeling the strength in his hold and his grip in your hair, pulling lightly, shooting pricks of pain down your head to meet the oppressive pleasure brimming in your core, closer, closer.

“What do you want?” Taehyung growled, that deep voice dangerously low.

“Y-Your c-cock, p-please…” you managed to gasp out, chasing it, chasing the fullness and the depth.

“Can you take it? Can you take it like the good girl you are?”

“A-Ah, yes, please Tae, want it,” you moaned, your fingernails digging into his back, scratching down as your orgasm shattered through you, making your whole body shake and shiver from the intensity, him pulling out. Your moan turned into a hoarse whimper, squirming as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, spanking it and teasing it, rocketing you into peaks and valleys of cut-off ecstasy that drove you insane, clawing at his clothes, desperate for his body on yours.

“What’s your magic word?”

“Please.”

He grinned at you despaired tone.

“That’s it.”

It took no time at all, your shirt flung aside, Taehyung losing his clothes that were already half-off, hot body to hot body, heated kisses and rummaging in his nightstand drawer, groaning into his mouth as his cock slapped your thigh, hard and thick and ready, dripping pre-cum on you before he yanked you up on top of him, ripping open the condom.

“Work for it.”

Lacing your fingers in his, sliding down onto that impressive girth and gasping as it twitched inside you, rolling your hips down onto it, better than his fingers, bouncing on it with your tits following your rhythm, squeezing his hands. Taehyung liked this kind of intimacy, the kind where he was grinning like the devil under you but still holding your hands as you railed yourself with his dick, rough and hard with your own smug smile, a little erratic but somehow good that way.

He made you work for it and you were good at working for it.

You found a good rhythm and – ba dum tss – rode it, leaning forward to deepen the angle and make it last longer, pulsing around his length with your tight walls, control and power and endorphins, each smack adding to the lewd melody that mixed with heavy moans and shuddering gasps, bringing Taehyung on your rollercoaster, his hips rising, your name rumbling in his chest, blood thudding in your ears at the baritone depth.

“Yes, such a good girl, gonna make me cum, don’t you want me to cum for you?” he panted, fishing for the magic word, bouncing one of his dark brows, his long hair flared out on his pillows, high cheekbones and strong features no longer hidden by wayward strands.

Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.

“Yes, please.”

The right inflection of winded want, maybe a little mischievous, but Taehyung liked that, for there was no fun in someone who was too easy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”

He squeezed your hands and thrust his hips up fiercely, shock bolting from your core to your spine to your head, your head snapping back, gasp torn from your throat, flooding his crotch with your juices, overstimulated clit rubbing on the base of his cock and Taehyung was gone too, husky groan falling from his lips, slamming his hips up and locking his legs, shooting jerks of cum into the condom, aftershocks causing you to lose hold on your knees, moan pitching higher as you slipped down on his throbbing length, trapped on it because Taehyung wasn’t going to lower you until he was done, the head pulsing inside you, squeezed out by your shivering walls.

“T… Tae… the picture…”

“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”

He wasn’t going to let you leave without his mark anyway.

“Serious?”

“Deadly.”

You laid back against the pillows, spent, holding your phone, Taehyung straddling your chest and stroking his slick cock, plops of cum and lube falling onto your chest, messy dark hair curling around his handsome face. You could see the purple-red head peek out from between his fingers, hear the steady slapping as he pumped it back to full hardness.

“Alright, let’s see.”

Your chest was rattling but you raised your phone, bringing up the picture as Taehyung gripped the base of his cock, lifting it up slightly to put it in position. You squinted at the screen, looking from the photo dick to the real one. Of course. He was definitely bigger, a little thicker, but strangely, the color was almost the same. Was that lightning or similar skin tone? Or perhaps men with really nice dicks just happened to have Taehyung’s tan complexion?

You wouldn’t question it if it was true.

“You’re bigger,” you sighed, tossing your phone aside.

Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”

“We all knew that, even before I saw it.”

He chuckled, going back to fisting his cock. “That’s because Jimin has a big mouth and likes to spread rumors.”

“You like that he spends rumors.”

Taehyung shrugged, but his sly expression wouldn’t be hidden even as he shook his head to cover part of his face with his long brown hair, curtaining half of it with darkness, teasing and effortlessly sexy.

“Ready?”

“Mhm, do it.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, smiling wide, watching his breathing shallow and his eyes close, losing himself in it, faster and tighter, the wetness audible, strong thighs shuddering at your sides. Then he sucked in a breath, hissing your name and tipping forward, painting viscous white strings onto your collarbones and tits, pushing his shuddering cock up and down to spread it out, your clavicle now sticky and covered in his strong scent.

Taehyung ticked his head, lips in a devil’s smile, chest heaving with exertion.

“Your cum necklace is extra pretty today. Take a selfie for me so I can jack off to your cute face later.”

-

jeon jungkook.

“Jungkook?”

Jeon Jungkook shrieked your name like you were Michael Myers and he was Jamie Lee Curtis, flinging himself onto his computer monitor and mashing the power button to turn it off, his long purple hair flying everywhere, brown orbs like saucers, entire body shaking so bad that even his eyebrow piercing was vibrating.

He froze like that.

You blinked at him from the doorframe of his rented studio room, one hand on the knob and the other holding up your phone like a kitchen knife.

His leather bomber jacket was hung over the back of his rolling chair. The chair was currently slowly sliding across the floor, away from him and his panic. Jungkook was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and loose black jeans.

For a guy scared shitless, his pants were pitching a very impressive tent.

Had he been watching porn?

“Er… I knocked…?” you said slowly, pointing to the door. “Do you not hear me?”

“Um, uh, n-no,” Jungkook sputtered, looking you up and down. “No, I d-didn’t.”

“I said I was coming by today. Via text?”

“Was that today?” he echoed hollowly like a ghost in a shell, the end of his question pitching to a higher octave. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry. I think I f… forgot…” He was not looking at your face, instead staring at your thighs and your shorts, tight and tiny, shredded black denim paired with a loose, long-sleeved black top that read in bold, white, graphic, letters...

REALITY SUCKS.

You pointed to the turned-off monitor.

"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.

Jungkook's ears turned red.

"Yes," he blurted.

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

You nodded, closing the door. You tilted your head and locked it, just in case, before waltzing into Jungkook's film studio space, bouncing on the heels of your large black sneakers. "If you're gonna watch porn, you should lock the door. What were you watching? Is it lesbian porn again? Can I–?"

You reached over to turn the screen back on and Jungkook's tattooed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from it and to him. You blinked rapidly, confused at his tight grip.

"N-No, you can't see. You can't," he sputtered, pinning you against his hard body.

You frowned, annoyed. "Why not? I like porn." You squirmed against him, but he sandwiched you between his forearms, forcing you to look up and face him, thinning your mouth into a line. He gulped, eyes shifting, holding your body against his. His lower lip trembled, mole underneath bouncing with his uncertainty.

"I... It wasn't porn..."

You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"

Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.

"I was looking at your pictures."

You blinked rapidly. "What?"

"You know... the ones I take of you sometimes... You said it was okay..."

Ah, yes. Jungkook liked to take pictures of you. He had mumbled that it was because he needed practice and, later in bed, he admitted it was because he considered you his muse, an inspiration of sorts, so would it be okay if, maybe, you just turned a little and laid in his covers just like... like that, yeah, could he take maybe one photo?

"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."

A bit later, far too late, you had realized that had been maybe too chill of a response, but Jungkook seemed to prefer that and he acted less awkward about it every other time he asked to take a picture. They weren't usually dirty pictures. Although you were naked in some of them, they weren't quite inappropriate, every single one framed with delicate, well-thought-out composition. You always sighed and told him he made you look better than you actually were.

Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.

You pointed between your bodies.

"Were you gonna get off to them or something?" you cheerily inquired, bumping against his pitched denim tent.

"N-No!"

His ears turned scarlet and he jerked sideways, but you held onto him, hands firmly on his hips, not letting him twist away. He quickly covered his ears and pouted at you.

"I was... I just missed you."

You smiled, squeezing his ass. "I missed you too, Jungkook."

Your tone was soft, gentle. He stilled and lowered his hands, lips parting at your words, slightly surprised, incredibly adorable.

His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.

A pause.

Jungkook's eyes shifted to the side, mumbling under his breath. "And, yeah, okay, I got horny, but that's only because it's you..."

"That's great, since I definitely wanted to look at your dick as soon as possible!"

His eyes went wide.

You smiled widely.

Then he said something unexpected.

"Ow."

You looked down and backed up as Jungkook frowned and reached down to shift his rock-hard length in his pants, sighing in relief.

"Zipper was killing me..." he grumbled, running a hand through his purple hair.

"We should just take it off then."

"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"

You grabbed fistfuls of his black top and yanked it up and over his head, causing Jungkook to sputter in confusion, throwing his hands up as you unsheathed his muscular torso, leaning in, breathing on his skin, leaving him to untangle himself as your lips closed onto his dark nipple, tongue teasing the small nub.

"Ah, fuck!"

You lifted your lips, tongue still extended, looking up to see him flinging the shirt aside, his long purple hair messy and wild, tattooed arm and un-inked arm lifting, pushing his hair away from his face, his chest rising to your wet muscle, gasping. You had a clear view of that cute little mole under his lower lip, trembling with pleasure before Jungkook looked down at you, hazy chocolate orbs fanned by black lashes, breathing hard.

You ticked an eyebrow, licking slow circles, lips closing in again, sucking daintily.

He bit his lip and let it slowly tease out while you simultaneously teased him, your name leaving his lips in a low moan. You danced your fingertips up his thigh, nail tracing the seams of his jeans, kissing across his chest, his eyes following you, hips rocking into your touch, following your pace, letting you command it. His head tipped back as you kissed down his abs, whimpering with want, curling his fingers into fists.

Jungkook always made you feel like you were touching him for the first time.

"You're not a virgin?"

"No?" Jungkook had repeated after the first time you had fucked him, sounding confused. "I'm just like this? Is that bad?"

"W... well... no, and now that I think about it, you were suspiciously good..."

"You didn't like it?"

You had turned to look at him and, fuck, the way he looked at you, so cute and innocent, uh oh, and then the slightest hint of an open-mouthed smirk dancing on those shapely pink lips, reminding you of someone else.

"Namjoon-hyung said that's what you were into. Is he wrong?"

Voice so deep and so smooth, gliding over you like butter.

You almost hastily defended yourself but one look into those roguish, yet genuine, chocolate eyes and you couldn't lie.

"But... you should enjoy yourself too..."

Jungkook had grinned, endearing and heart-thuddingly handsome. "I do. I told you, this is how I am. You're just my type."

"And what's that?'"

He had pinned you back onto the bed, leaning in.

"Hot and horny."

Turns out.

Seemed to be a running theme with all eight of you.

Right now, his pants were falling and you were sliding up as your hand was sliding down, shushing him quietly, your other hand dancing up his neck and pulling his head down.

"Someone's gonna hear you," you whispered to his open lips, tone and touch implying you didn't give a shit who was listening, wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock the second he pushed his black boxer briefs down, his shivering moan tickling your cheek. His right hand came up to cradle your head and lean it against his, begging whines for you to move, pairing it with an irresistible, husky hiss of your name.

"Please..."

He liked it tight and he liked it rough, liked the way you could lock your fingers and keep that nearly suffocating pace, closing his eyes with a flutter and moaning into your skin, curtaining you with purple, his grip in your hair tightening as you built that speed, filling the rented studio with his silvery, erotic cries.

"Someone out there is going to think you're watching porn," you teased, nudging him with your nose, looping a finger back to smear the pre-cum over the swollen head. He bucked his hips into your hold, lips pressed to your cheek, intoxicated groan warming your skin.

"Kiss me and breathe into my mouth..."

You couldn't say no, not with his voice so soft and pleading like that, not with that edge of nervousness. Fuck, the way Jungkook succumbed to your kiss, uncontrollable tremors taking over his shoulders, hot taut skin twitching in your palm indicating he was close, and you almost broke away to say that he shouldn't cum like this, it'll be messy and get on the floor, but he grabbed your face and didn't let you go, whimpering in his throat, wordlessly telling you to do it, exhale into his throat and he groaned in his chest, long, drawn-out, consumed by lust, and maybe it was bad, but you loved it, loved the way he wanted it so bad, wanted you to push the air out of his lungs and suffocate his pulsating cock with your grip, pre-cum leaking between your fingers, finally pulling back and gasping, his lashes fluttering helplessly.

"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"

You had to think fast, looking down for a moment and feeling his cock jerk in your hand, swiftly switching to cupping the dark red head, thick white cum suddenly spurting your palm, Jungkook burying his face into your hair to muffle his wail, your scalp hot with his released exhale and your hand covered in his heated release.

You breathed in, smirking at the scent of dirty gratification.

"Jungkook..."

He whined softly, hips quivering as you covered his jerking length with your cum-covered hand, spreading it all over and getting him hard again.

"There's this picture..."

"Mmm, yeah, the h-hyungs told me... don't stop..."

You swung your hips from side to side, free hand running down his chest, your eyes roaming his toned body, his tattooed arm still hovering over your head, long fingers tangled in your hair still, squatting down and opening your mouth, tongue dancing out and licking your hand and the side of his purple-red length, wet sloppy kisses, slurping up his cum and moaning on the throbbing head, making sure that he could feel the sinful heat.

"Give me... oooh, fuck, give me your phone..."

Your hand left his abs reluctantly, tugging your phone out of your ass pocket and holding it up for him as your mouth closed around his cock, swallowing it all, eyes closing, cramming all of him until the head hit your inner throat and your lips pressed against his crotch, knees on the tile floor, thighs spread, hands poised in the air, unable to breathe.

Click.

You cracked open one eye to see Jungkook holding your phone above your head, teasing smirk on his shapely lips, mole winking at you.

“For me?” he asked, not quite innocent.

It was the first time Jungkook had taken an actual dirty picture.

You shrugged as if to say, sure, pulling back as he turned the phone around, the dick in question on the screen. You eased off his length, licking it clean, bringing up your wet hand covered in his cum, popping your lips off the engorged tip and sliding your fingers in your wet lips, tongue wriggling between your fingers, inspecting the two dicks. Jungkook was still hard – so hard that his cock was sticking straight out, almost mimicking the photo. You had to crouch a little more, tilting your head and placing your fingertips on his balls, raising his dick a little on the back of your hand, smearing saliva and pre-cum on your skin.

Yon continued to lick, grazing the underside of his length with your tongue and then pulling back, eyes going from the photo to the real thing.

Jungkook moaned above you, clutching your phone tightly, knuckles white under black tattoos.

Hm.

You tilted your head.

One way.

Then the other.

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmm.

“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.

You pursed your lips at the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over it and sucking off the pre-cum. He gasped, hips shaking, threatening to shove it into your lips.

“It doesn’t look like your dick at all.”

“What?” He sounded startled.

You pointed with your dry hand. “The shape is a little off, you’re longer and slightly bigger, and the color is different.” You sighed, whooshing hot air over his soaked, taut skin, Jungkook whimpering. You squinted slightly.

“Still…”

You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.

“I think he wears the same underwear brand as you.”

“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.

You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”

He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.

“Oh well.”

You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.

“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”

Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.

That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.

“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.

You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.

“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”

Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.

“You can help, you know.”

Fun night.

His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.

“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”

You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.

You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.

“You always feel so fucking good…”

You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.

-

“Hah…”

You rolled over, sighing loudly.

“Haaaaaaah…”

“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.

You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.

“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.

“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.

“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.

“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”

You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”

“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.

“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.

“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”

“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”

You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.

“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”

You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.

“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.

Your eye twitched.

You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”

You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.

“So what’s the difference?”

“What?” you scowled.

Yoongi shrugged casually.

“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”

“That’s–”

Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.

Silence.

“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.

Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”

W… What?

Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.

Hold on.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”

They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.

As if…

“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.

As if they had expected to see such a photo.

Click.

You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.

“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”

No way.

“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”

One look at those seven faces and…

YUP.

Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”

You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…

“Oh my God…”

“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.

“I am not!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”

You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!

On purpose!

For what?

FOR FUN!

(GG, no re)

They got you good.

Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.

Oh.

Shit.

Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.

You stared into chocolate eyes.

Innocent.

Or…?

Jungkook’s pout disappeared.

His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.

And then, Jeon Jungkook.

“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.

These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!

You were positively fuming.

Silence.

An owl hooted outside the window.

“YOU PUNKS!”

You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.

-

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[buckyismybicycle]

I don't know how terrible this quality will be on Tumblr, but the higher resolution/original can be found on AO3!

Title: swim for the music that saves you Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Tags: ShrinkyClinks, Social Media AU, WIP/teaser Summary: It all started when he sent a video singing Happy Birthday to his sister, not knowing that she would post it on her social media.

Now, JBuckyBarnes has millions of followers all hearing his story, following his recovery, listening to him sing. Little does he know, he's going to change the life of one follower in particular.

Steve Rogers, chronically ill and spending most of his days inside, has to live vicariously through others. He longs for adventure, trying new things, feeling the sun on his face. A/N: This fic has been sitting in my drafts for some time now... Thanks to @buckybarnesevents: Alternate June-iverse giving me a little kick, I've decided to post an excerpt/the beginning and the rest of it will come in due course.

“Hiya folks… Well, it was, uh.” The brunette on screen pauses and then smiles sadly. “Alright, you know I can’t lie to you. I wanna say it was fine and dandy, but it was honestly rough. That’s why this video’s a bit late, sorry ‘bout that, by the way. It took longer than I thought it would to edit so I honestly kind of gave up.”

He lays his head in a propped up hand, resting against his piano. 

“So, I got home Sunday afternoon and crashed. I don’t even remember getting into bed. Didn’t sleep through the night, of course. I never do. But! That’s just me, my body’s not a fan of the meds. I was feeling crummy — you know when you’re so hungry you’re nauseous but you can’t eat ‘cause you’re nauseous? Anyway, so that for like, six hours. Finally got to sleep when the sun was risin’ but only managed about an hour or so. You lot haven’t heard Brooklyn traffic.”

Steve can’t help but smirk at that because he has, and he is in fact listening to the god-awful Brooklyn traffic outside his window. He could always move his desk away from the window, but he needs some sort of sunlight from time to time.

The YouTube video plays on his phone while he takes a break from work, stretching and wincing as his joints crack.

“So, it’s like, ten in the mornin’ and I decide I’m gonna get something to eat. Nausea won that round, unfortunately, so by three o'clock I am starving. I was cranky for the whole day, and I don’t wanna make cranky videos for you guys. So, that’s enough rambling from me. My brain’s been a little all over the place so I haven’t written anything in ages, but how about a cover of the best of the best? Thanks for sticking around! Hope you like this one.”

Steve watches as Bucky lifts the cover of his piano and stretches the fingers on his prosthetic. Today, it’s the metal titanium one, with its beautiful plate work and a small Hydra Industries logo on the forearm. 

You gotta swim… Swim for your life

Swim for the music that saves you

When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim… Swim when it hurts

The whole world is watching

You haven't come this far to fall off the earth

The currents will pull you, away from your love

Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn

Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun

Cracking the armor, yeah

I swim for brighter days, despite of the absence of sun

Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in, I swim

You gotta swim… through nights that won't end

Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers and friends

Steve listens to the beautiful voice fill the empty space of his studio apartment, caught up in the soft yet powerful melody. What really hits him are the words, though. 

Bucky’s life is no secret — except maybe his real first name because there’s no parent on this planet that hates their kid that much. Steve doesn’t know exactly how Bucky had started off, but the channel was a newer discovery for Steve. 

Well, there it is. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! Hope you liked the song, and maybe I’ll see you guys next time with something original, huh? Bye!”