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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

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

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x you #jungkook smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #jimin x reader #park jimin smut #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #namjoon smut

3K notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Text

not such a merry christmas

corpse husband x reader

hi hi so it’s 4:20am lmao i’m not kidding

so i know i said i wasn’t going to be on over christmas but christmas wrapped up late for me and i wasn’t ready to sleep and i just started writing and this is what came of it. i know that christmas isn’t always exactly a happy time for everyone bc family and holidays can be complicated sometimes. so if ur struggling or experiencing anything negative or just not rly enjoying christmas. this ones for u friend and i’m sending love ur way

word count: 2085

_______________________________

You had mixed feelings about this time of year.

The holidays.

On one hand, it meant you had some free time to enjoy some quality time with your nearest and dearest. And on another hand, it meant that you would be potentially finding yourself in situations where you would be spending time with family members who you would maybe rather not spend time with.

When you were young, Christmas always felt so magical. Now you were older, Christmas felt more like an anxiety inducing chore.

You’d talked to Corpse about your family a many of times, because for the most part, you really did love your family so much. You felt lucky to have been born into the family you were - again, for the most part. There was one particular sibling who you wouldn’t include in those feelings. Unfortunately, toxic people existed and extra unfortunately, sometimes those people were related to you. After four months of being with Corpse, he thought he had come to learn all of who were apart of your family. But then you were reminiscing on a childhood memory and when sharing it with your boyfriend, he heard a name he hadn’t heard before. When he questioned you on it, he noticed the immediate change in you. The smile left your face and you went timid and very quickly, you shifted the conversation topic. You were acting in a way he had never seen you be like before, usually you were so open and talkative and here was a brother you had never mentioned and definitely didn’t want to talk about.

He didn’t push it any further that day, figuring you would tell him when you were ready. That time came in November, on the 25th.

You remembered it well, Corpse was going through his emails when he asked you, “Baby, what’s the date?”

“November twenty-fi-” You cut yourself off.

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t realise that Christmas had snuck up this quickly. It was only a month away.

“Baby?”

“Sorry- um,” you glanced to him, giving him a meek smile before continuing, “it’s November 25th.”

He noticed that shift in you again. “Are you okay?”

And on that day, you opened up to him. Told him about the terrible memories that haunted days that should have and could have been really happy days had it not been for a bullying, negative family member. How now, you seemed to dread Christmas because of this fact.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Corpse had questioned you, he said it as if it was the most clear outcome, but it wasn’t like for you. It was so much easier for him to say that then it was for you to do.

“I couldn’t do that to the rest of my family.”

“Why? You can see them on any other day?”

“It’s Christmas, I couldn’t not go.”

“It’s just the same as any other day if you think about it.” As much as he had cared and listened to you opening up to him, it was hard for him to understand you on this. You grew up in vastly different family dynamics.

“Not to my family, it’s important.”

The two of you continued to go back and forth for a little bit before you realised the stubbornness you both shared wasn’t going to allow you to take in the other’s perspective.

In fact, the two of you didn’t speak about it again until two days before Christmas Eve. You were spending the day together because you were planning on leaving that night to stay at your parents house until boxing day. And as your leaving time was drawing closer and closer, it was visibly clear to Corpse how anxious you were feeling about it.

“(Y/N),” he had called for you attention and you looked to him, “I really don’t want you to go.”

A soft smile was offered to him. “I’m going.”

“But I can fucking see how this is affecting you. You’re dreading it, please don’t go.”

You sighed before answering him. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Please, Corpse, I don’t want to go over this again. I’m already feeling nervous about it.”

“Then stay with me for Christmas, you won’t have to feel nervous about anything, we can just be here having our own good time.”

You knew he was just trying to be there for you, but it seemed this was not something the two of you could find a common ground on. “It’s not that simple.”

But if only it had been that simple. If only you had listened to Corpse. Because you wouldn’t be where you were right now. Sitting in your car with tears running down your face. It was 5:05pm in the afternoon on Christmas Day and you’d made a dash out the front door while everyone else sat down to eat dinner. You had tried your best to stay strong, to ignore your toxic brother but when someone was constantly saying and doing things to try to bring you down, you’d broken. You wished you could pull it together, so you could go back inside for the people you wanted to be with, but you truly couldn’t take it any longer. You would call and apologise to your Mother tomorrow, you felt bad for leaving her the most.

You shouldn’t have been driving in the state you were in, tears kept blurring your vision and your mind was so distracted you knew you really weren’t paying enough attention. But by some miracle, you had made it to where you wanted to be. And in one piece and it wasn’t your own place. You were parked out the front of Corpse’s place and how you just longed to be in his arms right now.

Heavy feet carried you to his front door and before you could get the chance to knock, Corpse had already swung the door open.

“Thought I saw your car pull up- oh, fuck,” His tone was happy at first, surprised with happiness that you were there until he took notice of the state you were in. Your foundation was streaked by the thick and fast tears that had fallen down your cheeks. Your mascara and eyeliner tracked black lines, too. Your nose had the makeup removed from it and it was displaying red due to the amount of times you’d rubbed at it. And oddly enough, a Santa Hat was still sitting atop your head. Corpse had never seen a more gloomy Christmas Hat appearance. “Baby, c’mere.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to stretch out his arms to pull you in close and you so gladly accepted. When you were resting against him, his arms would be holding you so tight and yours clutching at his hoodie he was wearing, he’d kick his foot out to shut the front door once the two of you were inside. Small sobs were already leaving your body, but feeling the familiar and protective grip of Corpse really just made you break more. You were safe here, you were safe with him, you could get out any emotion you needed to, and so you did.

Sobs wracked your entire frame, it was loud, vocal and physical crying. Corpse had seen you cry before, but never like this. It was hurting him to see you so hurt. He was so concerned for you, he didn’t have to ask if you were okay, your display was making it clear you weren’t. When he could start to feel your feet starting to give out and your weight became heavier against him, and he not only heard but also felt you choking on your own cries and starting to really struggle to breathe, he felt the need to do more.

Gently, he’d bring you down to the floor with him. He’d sit with his back against the wall and grab your thighs to have you sit in his lap, your legs straddling him. He would pull you in tight enough so your chest and torso was completely against his, the two of you couldn’t be brought any closer if you tried.

“I need you to try taking some deep breaths for me.” He’d tell you right in your ear, needing you to hear him over your violent cries. And so you did, but each one was uneven and would catch in your throat and make you cough.

His hand would be rubbing big, deliberate, heavy circles into your back with a force to make its presence known, a tactic he hoped would calm you. He was caught off guard to see you like this, but after opening up to him about your toxic sibling and how anxious you had been to be around him again, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He was so concerned for you but a part of him was also furious that someone had treated you in such a terrible way to put you in this state. He now wished he had worked harder in getting you to stay with him, if you were with him, you were safe, he wouldn’t let harm - especially like this - come to you.

“I’m here.” Corpse would assure you with a longing kiss to the side of your head, rocking you back and forth.

And eventually, while sitting there, being cradled in his arms, your cries would quieten, your sobs wouldn’t make you shake so violently and your breathing would return to a more regular state.

“Feel better?” He’d ask you once you reached that more stable point and you’d nod your head from its place against his neck before doing a much needed yawn. “You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You’d confirm.

“Should we go lay down?” He was still holding you so strongly and securely but being so gentle with how he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I want to get some painkillers first, though, my head hurts.”

“Want to take off the Santa hat?”

“No.”

“What, why?” Your answer surprised him.

“I’ve had it on all day, I’ll have really bad hat hair.” You admitted and Corpse laughed and had you been in a better mood, you would have joined in on the laughter. But it did lift your spirits to even just simply hear him laugh.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“It will be.”

Corpse laughed softly again and shook his head slightly and when he felt you relax against him again, he brought up his hand to quickly pull the hat from your head.

“Hey!” You lifted your head then and he was relieved to see no more build up of tears in your eyes anymore.

“You’ll feel better without it on.” He argued your protest, smiling a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it, which made Corpse elated to see.

“Okay, but don’t you dare look at my hat hair.” You told him and because he knew your eyes were on his, he intentionally lifted his eyes to your hair. “Corpse!” You called his name with a laugh and he was so happy to hear you laugh instead of cry. “Stop it.” You spoke through more giggles and your hands came up to land on your head over your hair until Corpse grabbed your wrists and moved your hands out of the way. “Hey!” Squirming your arms to get your wrists out of his grasp. Once you freed them, you’d place your hands over his eyes.

“Baby, let me look at your beautiful hat hair.”

“No!” You both would laugh then and this time when your boyfriend took hold of your hands to move them off of his eyes, it would be soft and he’d lift them to bring back his vision and bring your hands down a little to place kisses into the palms on each of your hands.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?” On the surface, it could’ve sounded like Corpse was talking about just the hat hair, but on a deeper level, he meant this so wholeheartedly, and you understood.

So you’d nod. “I know. Thank you.”

And Corpse knew that once again, when you were ready you’d tell him about what took place on that Christmas Day, but for right now, he didn’t need to know. All he needed to know is that now you were okay and you were safe and you were with him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband fanfiction #writing #mine

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: having them crash your date

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: aomine x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: 1500+

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: wanting to kill aomine for being aomine, being an ass during a date, kissing, using someone to make another jealous.

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: first time writing for aomine... hope it’s alright LMAO this is a college au btw.

The restaurant selected for your date was rated four out of five stars on the internet. It was classified as fine dining and proclaimed to be the ideal location to celebrate a special occasion or to impress a potential client. What the numerous websites did not state was that it attracted a certain type of crowd – those who did not care for the ridiculous prices attached to their small portions.

When the hostess guided you and your date to your reserved table, the customers you slipped on past raised an eyebrow at you, easily detecting the one person who did not belong. Instead of cowering under their targeted stares, you fixed a smile onto your mouth, ignoring the crawling sensation spreading throughout your arms.

You would survive this one date – you had to. It was your fault for arguing with that idiot, and for accepting an invitation solely to further piss Daiki off. The thought of that insufferable male prompted a hallow melody to dance up your throat, though you were quick to swallow the sound.

How dare he call you undesirable? Coming from someone who lacked any notable characteristics, that was rich. An idiot. Aomine Daiki was a complete idiot.

But who was the bigger idiot here? You or him? He wasn’t the one who was on a date with someone who was probably cheating on their wife, and he wasn’t the one caught in a traditional game of unrequited love.

“Have you found something you like?” The blonde male did not bother to secure eye contact, instead his icy irises scanned the menu ahead of him. “Shall I call the waitress over?”

“I did, thank you.” There was no point in maintaining a polite smile, particularly when your date would be unaware of its existence, yet it remained plastered on your visage. They say that if you smile during uncomfortable moments, it can trick the brain into thinking you are truly happy. And if that did not work, you could always employ your secret weapon – the flask of vodka in your jacket pocket. Under the influence of alcohol, even someone as bland as your date could become interesting, or at least bearable.

“Perfect.” Bringing the booklet to a close, he gestured the waitress over with a short wave. The fluidity of the motion had you questioning how many times he had brought someone here, was this his special spot?

Or were your perceptions merely a product of your imagination?

The following thirty minutes made you realize it was the latter. There was nothing interesting about the wealthy man sat ahead of you. And you almost felt guilty accepting his invite, since he was quite serious about finding a future wife.

“As I was saying…”

Accidentally tuning out the latest story he was narrating, your attention drifted across the establishment. It was at this point that you caught visual of a pair that did not appear to belong, just like you.

Astonishment morphed into disgust when your eyes locked with his – the damn reason you were here.

“Hiii, y/n-chan!” The pink haired girl sang out the greeting, bouncing towards your table with Daiki trailing behind. Those seated around you grunted in irritation at the disturbance, but your date wore a blank expression. Though, from the twitch of his eyebrows, you assumed he was at least mildly interested in those preparing to approach him. “How funny! We were just passing by when we saw you from the windows!”

The deceitful answer was coated with a sugary tone and accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. The deadly combination seemed to have satisfied the man sat ahead of you. In fact, he seemed far too smitten with Momoi to notice the large male standing behind her. But you on the other hand, could not remove your attention from Aomine – not for a single second. Everything about the athlete had your emotions flaring.

How could he stand there so casually?

No longer entertained by the deadly glaring match you engaged him in, Aomine took in his surroundings with a quick scan of the space. It was as if he was evaluating your decision, and most likely critiquing it mentally.

The last thing you needed was his judgement.

“Are these friends of yours?” The question implanted a wedge into your concentration, guiding your gaze back to the blonde.

Did you accidentally tune him and Momoi out? From the matching expressions painted on the pair ahead of you, it seemed you did.

“Yeah, kinda.” The qualifier was a lackluster attempt to capture the blue haired male’s attention. Surprisingly, it worked. Aomine had shot you a lazy grin in return.

“Then you are welcome to join us.”

The invitation came far too swiftly for you to successfully curtail it. Further, neither Aomine nor Momoi missed a beat, claiming the empty chairs without hesitation. When the athlete settled onto the chair beside you, he inched it closer to yours, before stretching out his spine. The sloppiness of his movements was in stark contrast with the elegant mannerisms of his best friend.

“Thank you so much!” A bright smile was flashed to display her gratitude, whereas Aomine offered an unenthusiastic “thanks.” The blonde simply nodded to acknowledge their words. But it was quite clear that so long as Momoi was present, he would bypass any other distractions. Including the large male who was practically pressed against your side.

Typical.

Once the pair officially joined your date, the atmosphere loosened considerably. However, the change was restricted to your table. For a moment you soaked in the change with a titter threatening to spill from your lips. Watching Momoi cast a spell on the one who was once set out to woo you was amusing to say the least.

“That’s your type?” The male beside you adjusted himself after vocalizing the question. And whether he was stretching his neck or tilting his head inquisitively was unknown, but the movement brought him dangerously close to you.

Flickering your gaze to the minimal space between his head and your shoulder, you cursed yourself internally for the fluttering sensation inside of your stomach.

“So, what if it is?” A small “hmph” was tactically added to your response.

“Never pictured you being into an old rich guy. Does he know you hate places like these?” The basketball player remained slouched in his seat for a few more seconds before settling into a comfortable position.

Was he serious right now?

“Shut up and keep your voice down.” The demands were whispered in a stern tone, but you doubted it would work.

Unsurprisingly, he returned your hiss with short-lived laughter.

From the opposite side of the table, your date’s attention briefly returned to you – a natural reaction to the vigorous sound. He was seconds from becoming more aware of the scenario unfolding around him, but Momoi was prompt in eliminating his concentration.

“Oh, tell me what I should get!” A menu was then placed before him, to remove you from his line of sight. The artificial behaviour did not catch you off guard, you knew the two of them were scheming – a fact confirmed by the startled expression she exchanged with Aomine prior to opening the menu.

“I don’t know what you’re up to but stop it.” Exhaling a sigh, you propped an elbow onto the table before resting your cheek against your palm.

But did you really want them to stop? Not really. This was the most enjoyment you had since you arrived. Not that you would let him know that.

“What we’re up to?” He echoed with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What about you? What are you doing here, y/n? Are you here to prove you’re desirable?”

His words visibly stunned you at first.

Aomine knew exactly how to push your buttons, and his style of teasing was ridiculously potent. To refrain from acting on your urge to attack him physically, you curled your fingers in and grinded your teeth together.

“Aomine. You ass-”

Your lips were about to complete the curse when he connected his mouth with yours. It did not require much to close the distance due to the limited spacing that existed in the first place. Inside of your chest a parade had commenced, one that matched the metaphorical fireworks that accompanied the kiss.

You knew it was wrong. Your date was sat right ahead of you, albeit hidden behind the remarkably large menu. Yet, you enjoyed it.

When you instinctively tried to push away, he placed a hand at the back of your neck, keeping you in place. With each passing second your resolve melted until it no longer remained. A minute felt like an eternity, and when Aomine settled back in his seat, a flustered groan vibrated inside of your throat.

“Oi. Satsuki. Let’s go. I want a burger.” After tending to the crick in his neck, the athlete raised from the chair, purposefully ignoring the bewildered expression being presented up at him.

On cue, Momoi slapped the menu shut and stood up. “Okay! So sorry for disturbing you two. We’ll be on our way now.”

Your narrowed gaze slowly travelled from Aomine to the pink haired girl, who dipped an eyelid into a wink at you.

What the hell.

You could barely comprehend what occurred and watching them leave only increased your bemusement. Across the table, your date questioned if you were alright. Pressing your palms against your face, you shook your head with another groan.

No, you were not alright.

You were in love with the Aomine Daiki, the biggest idiot to exist.

Which meant you... would never be “alright.”

Taglist: @newfriendjen @yourstarvic @bloody-bella @seijurosempress @haikyuusimp91 @chaichai-the-weeb [only tagging those who I know watch KnB lmao]

#aomine x you #aomine x reader #aomine x y/n #aomine scenario #knb x reader

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Text

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[015] — the half of it!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: keep in the mind that y/n doesn’t have a faceclaim so that instagram photo is not a visual representation

also this wasn’t proofread and lowkey i’m not sure if this entire chapter even makes sense. read with caution lmao

the night went by in a flash with the second hour passing just as quickly as the first one. you were grateful that there wasn’t a single ounce of awkwardness drenching the lighthearted atmosphere of the restaurant when bokuto arrived fashionably late—rather that’s what he told you and the rest of the ddd team when he slid into the booth right across from you.

however, if bokuto was truly being honest, he actually made it right on time, yet something in him had held him back longer. he probably took a good fifteen minutes sitting in his car as if he was waiting for a sign to fucking walk in already. bokuto would have been lying to himself if he didn’t believe (even for a second) that he was absolutely terrified to see your face. no matter how much he wanted to see you again, the mere thought of your past relationship with iwaizumi had his knuckles turning alabaster as he gripped his steering wheel.

the athlete scoffed at his state that was so unbelievably wrapped around this idea that happened such a long time ago. admittedly, why in the hell would thee bokuto koutarou of the msby black jackals be hung up over a girl from high school anyway? he wanted to laugh at himself because akaashi was right.

it simply didn’t matter anymore.

or at least that’s what bokuto kept affirming in his head over and over and over again as he marched himself into that restaurant. there was confidence in the way he approached the nearly filled booth, yet the moment you shifted your eyes towards him, it all melted into oblivion.

goddammit, why did akaashi force him to sit across from you? it’s almost like he knew exactly how to torment both you and bokuto just by asking sugawara to scoot closer to the other side of the bench.

surprisingly, bokuto can handle his alcohol and knows how to moderate his drinking habits, yet tonight was his only exception. with you constantly throwing him knowing glances that reminded him of your shared relationship, it was his only driving force that kept him throwing his head back with shot after shot of soju.

by the time the entire group was all set and done, everyone was considerably drunk. it was kaori, yuko, and bokuto who were so severely wasted that it honestly forced you and the rest of the group to hold back in order to get everyone home safe and sound.

semi, who was sitting next to you, stands up first as the bill is handed back. “kaori and i will head out first. you guys get home safe, okay?”

you nod, waving ddd’s musician goodbye as he helps a tipsy kaori from stumbling over herself.

“i guess i should get going too,” sugawara adds in a beat later, motioning to yuko with her eyes closed and rested against the wall right behind her. “i know damn well she’s going to make me carry her ass up to her apartment.”

“bye, stay safe.” akaashi mutters as the four exit the restaurant, leaving you, him, and a drunken bokuto.

you held back an amused chuckle as akaashi gave you a look satiated in aversion. you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit guilty knowing that he’s going to be the one struggling trying to take bokuto back home safe despite knowing damn well it was going to happen sooner or later as the night of drinking continued.

akaashi let out a sigh, “well... guess i should take this one home too, shouldn’t i. you can go home first since you live close.” he offers, but you quickly decline.

“no, it’s fine.” you shook your head as you stood from your seat, “since i live so close, we could try and get him sobered up a bit so it’s easier for you to take him home.”

“are you sure?” asked akaashi as you gathered your things.

nodding, you make your way around the table to help bokuto stand. “yeah, i kind of feel bad. i don’t know if you noticed, but something was up with him today.”

perhaps akaashi was glad you didn’t notice the way his expression suddenly changed. he didn’t want to pry too much into your personal life or your past, but he knew damn well that the secrets need to be told. you two have been good friends since high school, yet it wasn’t until you and akaashi started working together with love cemetery did you two become so close. it’s never his business to be so caught up in whatever web you somehow got caught in literally years after everything happened, yet here you guys were.

he couldn’t stand and watch his best friend potentially hurt because of your in ability of communicate. granted, akaashi knew how personal those feelings were to you with no way to express it.

that’s the entire reason why you started love cemetery anyway—your both your relationships with iwaizumi and bokuto ended so abruptly, if you thought about it hard enough, there was no distinct closure despite ending on good terms with both of them. this, this sense of blurred lines of your webtoon and your past relationships were honestly just a coping mechanism for you.

how badly did akaashi just wanted to sit you down and talk your head on straight, but once again:

it wasn’t his business.

“alright, then.” akaashi sighs, helping you lead bokuto into his car. “let’s go.”

there was a special sense of silence in the air that tensed the moment akaashi started the car, engine humming in the background of the radio on low volume. the bright downtown tokyo lights simmered down as they reached the suburban areas of the city, filling you with a sense of serene peace as fatigue was slowly catching up to you as well.

a weight fell on your shoulder then as the car pulled into a stop. bokuto’s white hair brushed against your cheek as you looked down on him, pushing the man up and towards akaashi who had opened the door opposite from you.

the volleyball player muttered something incohesive beneath his breath as his weighted eyes attempted to open. bokuto had no idea where he was, but at this point, he couldn’t care less. he wanted to just crash into bed and sleep until the afternoon.

akaashi let out a grunt as he slung his best friend’s arm over his shoulders, following just behind you as the three of you walk up to your apartment. you threw a glance over your shoulder, watching your poor friend struggling to get the beefy athlete up the last flight of stairs.

an amused laugh left your lips, “are you sure you don’t need any help?” you offered as granted, you did offer to help get bokuto up to your apartment only for akaashi to say no. at this point, his struggle was on him.

“just hurry and unlock the door,” akaashi grumbles.

“right...” you mutter, reaching into your bag for your house keys only to feel a buzzing in your pocket.

“shit.” you say under your breath, forcing your seeping thoughts and increasing heart rate back as you opened the door.

your exes seeing each other at work was a different story. considering that neither of them knew of you past relationship with the ladder, it surely wouldn’t be a problem, but this was literally one of the last things you wanted to happen tonight. like seriously, doesn’t finding a drunk athlete that happens to be from the volleyball team you work for bad enough? surely having bokuto be in your apartment wouldn’t help your case either.

you stepped back into your living room, swallowing the bundle of nerves down your throat as bokuto seemed to regain enough conscious to form coherent words.

“kaashi~” he whined, voice muffled by the pillow he wrapped his muscular arms around. “i’m hungry.”

“we literally just had korean barbeque dude,” his best friend scoffs.

“okay, and?” bokuto pressed on, causing akaashi to roll his eyes.

“fine,” he deadpans before asking, “what do you want?”

the volleyball player smirked slightly, “ramen.”

akaashi stands up then, giving you an unenthused look as you approached him. you feigned a look of shock from appearing on your expression as you brushed past, frustration coating your very figure. this was not good.

a sigh left your lips as your brain scavenged desperately for a plan. at some point, the truth had to be revealed sooner or later whether you liked it or not. you just didn’t like how they both had to find out this way.

you set the water upon the table in front of your sofa, setting the medicine gently upon bokuto’s palm.

bokuto always thought you had the softest hands. he would often find excuses just to hold your hand back when you two used to date. it would always make him feel safe and warm, yet nowadays he still yearned to feel that sense of familiarity again—even if it meant it was the last time he would ever get to.

“thank you,” he says.

“yeah, no problem.” the words left your mouth softer than you had anticipated when bokuto made eye contact with you—familiar and warm as if you were home.

you didn’t know what to think then as you placed yourself next to him, yet still leaving space for comfort. bokuto looked so cute and vulnerable in such a state, how in the hell were you supposed to kick this guy out of your apartment?

the thought spiraled in your head. surely there had an excuse conjured somewhere up in your head. you cleared your throat, “never thought you’d be a lightweight.”

your words left your mouth in a hurry. it seemed a bit unnatural but at this point with bokuto wasted, you barely tipsy yet panicked that iwaizumi is on his way, and akaashi not knowing a single thing besides deliriously making ramen for his best friend—nothing about tonight was natural.

bokuto let out a playfully offended scoff, “i’m not! the alcohol was just strong tonight...”

“whatever you say, kou.” you mused with a smile that left bokuto’s heart racing.

your lips looked nice at the moment. with the dim florescent lights casting shadows upon your face, he wondered whether or not it was a good idea being this dangerously close to you. hell, now that you two were alone and akaashi was preoccupied this would be the perfect place to ask you the questions that had be plaguing his mind all day. that would have been the correct option, yet something within him wanted different with the way bokuto’s gaze flicked down to your lips.

you couldn’t help but notice the way he would look at you, deep brown eyes that would send red heat to your cheeks until it reached your ears. you weren’t exactly sure if he was going to do anything, but it wasn’t like you entirely opposed anyway.

bokuto cleared his throat suddenly as he pulled you both out of your trances.

“can i ask you a question?”

your eyebrows furrow slightly with a tilt of your head, “hm?”

curiously filled you as hesitance drenched bokuto’s thoughts, drying out his mouth as he gulped his drunken nerves. “i know this is from a long time ago,” he starts, not even having enough courage to look at you. “but how come you never told me about your past relationships when we first started dating?”

bokuto’s words sobered him up—he needed to be i order to even comprehend an answer from you whether or not it would suffice. to no surprise did it catch you off guard either. as your eyes has widened into saucers, heart thumping against your ribcage, palm perspiring, all while you searched for a plausible answer in your head. you weren’t entirely sure if you should panic at the chance that bokuto did in fact find out about you and iwaizumi, or if he was just entirely curious.

it certainly didn’t matter if she lied, either, they were bound to find out now that both of them were in your life regularly and they’ve both read love cemetery, they are bound to find out sooner or later. bokuto and iwaizumi had all the clues placed out in front of them, it was just a matter of time when they would piece them all together and connect the dots.

you let out a shaky sigh. the best way to answer this was to be as calm as possible knowing bokuto was drunk and you weren’t entirely sure how he would react. “i just didn’t think think it was an important detail,” you mutter. it was neither a lie or the entire truth.

“i feel like it would’ve made sense to mention it at least.” says bokuto, “i mean... what happened to telling each other everything back then?”

god, you really didn’t want to have this conversation right now, especially when akaashi could easily walk back in. “i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, but it’s not like it’s relevant now, is it? it’s been years.”

“it’s still very much relevant, you know.”

“how so?”

but before bokuto could part his lips to answer, the doorbell rings, sending a sharp echo throughout the apartment. your body immediately stood up, flinching and completely grimacing at the idea that both your pieces are only a few meters apart.

you couldn’t here anything then as you made your way to the door. your the beat of your beat was so loud that you swear bokuto could hear it quicken as you turned the door knob.

capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you cracked the door open slightly with only your head peaking out through small opening.

“hey, (y/n),” the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it still ended up comforting you more than expected. you just hoped bokuto couldn’t hear who it was.

“hi, iwaizumi.” you say almost in a harsh whisper.

you cursed yourself internally—of course out of all people, this would happen to you. you couldn’t help but grumble at the fact that surely this was some sort of karma life was giving you a universal punishment. whatever it was, you prayed it would end soon. maybe it should just put you out of your misery...

iwaizumi gave you a charming smile, the moonlight absolutely doing wonders as it casted shadows upon his chiseled face. seriously, can this guy get even more handsome?

you licked your lips absentmindedly at the thought of this as iwaizumi held up your belongings. “i brought your things! sorry for coming by so late, i just wanted to see you tonight.”

crimson red heat decorated your cheeks at his words. your thoughts were going hundreds of miles an hour just by your hands slightly brushing against each other as he handed you your jacket.

“thanks,” was all you could say.

it was calm and light as relief was almost near knowing you two were about to say your goodbyes. yet as fate always liked to give you the short end of the stick, footsteps clambered from behind you.

“(y/n), who’s there?” bokuto’s voice calls out to you rather loudly, causing your eyes to practically jump out of it’s sockets the moment the athlete pulled the door wide open. at the sudden jerky movement, bokuto revealed himself to a surprised athletic trainer.

his eyes blinked together multiple times as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you see, iwaizumi has always been a rational person when it came to misunderstanding and he would never ever jump to conclusions but at this rate, what else could he really assume seeing his ex-girlfriend and his coworker together late at night?

there was a boiling limbic inkling within iwaizumi that he wasn’t know what it was composed up. it was like a mix of annoyance and unsolicited anger that he couldn’t help but feel his muscles tense and his hands tighten into fists.

the silence that ensued you three was so violently loud that you didn’t know what to do. never in a million years would you have ever imagined that this is how it would all end.

this is how everything would come crumbling down.

fun facts! —

while bokuto was in the parking lot hesitating to go in, satomi was hyping him up the entire time

meanwhile satomi and iwaizumi were actually still at work during all this

satomi thought it was a good chance of alone time with him, but the entire night iwaizumi was hurrying to get his work done so he could see (y/n)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smau #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagines #bokuto fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi fluff

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morimallow · 4 years

Note

Kurōo with a male reader but reader actually animated and draws really well, can do realism easily literally any art style. And has worked fir anime studios & even made their own anime animation b4?

And he finds it out because he and Kenmawere snooping around?

WAIT, THIS IS SO CUTE. LET ME.. CHERISH THIS. I will entitle this..

Strokes

〖 This is fluff and crack (but I'm not funny?) despite the title, believe me. 〗

You were at your university studying a course totally unrelated to arts, same old poorly made up excuses for you not to go and enroll for Fine Arts running through your mind on a daily basis.

If you think about it, it's fine. Your parents decided to let you go and do artsy stuff after you graduated from whatever that course is.

But then again, this is you and you know you'll get rusty if you won't draw and just focus your mind on lengthy equations and pain-in-the-ass Language lessons and field practices you're sure you won't even use it in real life. Not with your chosen real career choice.

So, you decided to give it a go. You will be immediately offered a job if people can already see your potential.

You'd draw in your free time and also in not your free time and send those samples to animation studios. You use digital and paper and pen alternately... just because.

You would say you're popular. You have an art account, not using your real name because who the hell knows what your parents might do?

You would post there your WIPs, some original characters you made, an character you saw in a manga you read a long time ago that you forgot the title, your commissions with a large DO NOT REPOST or SAMPLE in the background, rough sketches of your boyfriend who doesn't know he was drawn, not that he would mind if he did know.

But the thing is, he really doesn't know. Nope, not a clue. None.

Not until you asked him to use your laptop, which was full of your drafts and placed helplessly on your study table, to send an email to your professor.

You have 4 accounts all in all: a personal one, your art account which you use for digital art stuff and to communicate with other artists, your account for the university and a formal one for.. formal stuff, I presume.

The things is, the account that was currently logged in was your art account and the animation studio you work at sent you your schedule the moment he opened your laptop.

Which means he accidentally opened it.

Kenma was sitting on your swivel chair, doing something on his phone. He was Kuroo's ride because they had somewhere to go after your boyfriend's done with what you made him do.

Kuroo briefly scanned the content of the mail before switching accounts so he could send the file you wanted to pass to your prof.

After telling you it's already sent.. he went back to your art account and whispered to Kenma who was too bored he joined Kuroo in his shenanigans.

Were they thinking you're living a double life? Yes. Did they scan your files? Yes. Did Kenma accidentally stumble upon an open box filled with tons of sketch books and old tablets you used for digital art? Yes. Did they start their search for whatever they're searching there? Absolutely.

For Kenma, he grabbed the sketch book with a label with the same name as the game he's addicted to at the moment. They were drafts then the final designs for the characters.

Kuroo didn't really feel angry or irritated you didn't tell him this. He knows you'd answer him honestly if he just asked but he can't.. stop.. looking at your works.

He was mesmerized. He has a lover so good in arts? HELL, YEAH. He's now convincing Kenma to join him to commission you because you deserve it.

You knew Kuroo would know about your work the moment you entered your dorm with their shoes still by the door. You leaned on the door frame, looking at them still smiling fondly at your works and you were thinking how to approach the situation because.. you weren't really angry? Your works have been out in the public for so many times. Why would you have an issue with Kuroo and Kenma looking at the original ones?

“What do you think?” you asked.

“You didn't tell me you were this amazing! I didn't even know you draw,” Kuroo said pouting but still feeling proud and happy if that's possible.

“I thought you already knew when I asked if I could practice on you?”

“What? When— I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO BE BETTER AT KISSING SO I SAID YES.”

“I was on my phone.. drawing you..”

“You weren't scrolling through videos on how to kiss?”

“What made you think I was scrolling through kissing shit when I was holding my phone at a weird angle because that was the first time I used my phone for digital art?”

“Well, did it turn out good?”

“Absolutely, I caught your ugliness and enhanced it to make you uglier.”

Bickering, teasing, and Kenma not minding you two.

Kuroo then asked what your plans were after college and told you about the schedule he accidentally saw earlier. He knew then about your work, about when you made your own anime that was one of Kuroo and Kenma's top 10 faves. It was a short one but definitely caught their hearts.

Kenma had been planning to develop his own game and wanted you to design the characters, get your own crew to develop the graphics and all that artsy stuff (because I don't know anything).

“Kenma, you're my best friend but you can't just steal my boyfriend from me!”

“Kuroo, stealing and hiring are two different and obviously unrelated things.”

After a few more hours of planning and telling stories, Kenma decided to go home and Kuroo stayed for a sleepover.

He asked you where the hoodie he lent you a few weeks ago was because he didn't bring any change of clothes and you said it was in the top drawer.

Just as he was about to close it, his eyes caught a glimpse of a picture.

No, it wasn't a picture. It was a digital portrait of someone..? Maybe a late relative or your close cousin? The person (?) in the frame had some of your features. It was too realistic it didn't cross his mind that it was one of your works.

“Hey, babe? Who's this?”

The moment you realized what he was holding, you stopped breathing. He wasn't supposed to find that but then again, maybe you shouldn't have hid it in one of your drawers.

You mumbled your answer.

“What? Come again?”

“W-What our c-child would look like,” you looked away, blushing.

I realized the title had nothing to do with the content. Maybe this is why I never win in essay writing contests. LMAO. 💀

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #male reader insert #kuroo x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x y/n #could also be #gn reader #kuroo x gn reader

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nanstgeorge · 3 years

Text

“little garden” implications

starting to think that “little garden” = fandom elain and this was sjm’s way of subtly tackling how she has been reduced to her hobbies and overlooked by characters & the fandom for her traditionally feminine characteristics. this has even led some people to determine her possible endgames (ex; lucien and tamlin) for the series just because she likes gardening. not because she has expressed interest in them, but because she likes gardening so that automatically means she must end up with someone associated with flowers.

im not opposed to elain somehow taking over spring court or ending up with lucien (if the story convinces me lmao) but there’s an issue with sticking her there just because it seems like it works. like elain residing at spring court has been a popular fan theory since the beginning of the series but every book that has been released only seems to disprove it even more? she has never explicitly said she wanted to live there, even chosen a life for herself at night court, but fans and the inner circle just took this idea and ran.

“But Elain.... The Sprint Court had been made for someone like her.” (Nesta)

“Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.” (Cassian)

i’d say that it’s arguable whether or not nesta truly has an accurate depiction of elain now that we have a more in-depth portrait of nesta’s mind and childhood. of course this was not cultivated by nesta herself, with much help from her mother, but elain is still a child to nesta. a child who is a bartering tool between her and her disfigured dynamic with feyre. a child who is a reminder of her own insecurities. essentially, this quote from acosf sums it up, “nesta made her own choices, but our mother laid the ground work.”

“Elain is pleasant to look at, but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us one day, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match” (Mama Archeron)

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

Elain, sweet and oblivious.

Elain was like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort.

But to let Elain involve herself, jeopardize her safety—

“Look who decided to grow claws after all. Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

“Always defending sweet, innocent Elain.”

Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people.

Elain stepped closer, brown eyes wide. Undoubtedly wholly convinced of her own innocence, her innate goodness.

Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn’t bothered to fight for him, as if he hadn’t been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn’t worth the effort.

It was inevitable, Nesta supposed, stomach churning. She was the monster. Why shouldn’t the two of them band together and shove her out? Even if she’d foolishly believed that Elain had always seen every horrible part of her and decided to stick by her anyway.

now onto feyre, who has always had a softer but different opinion of elain. this doesn’t mean it’s accurate to how elain is or was, but it’s safe to say that this was an opinion that wasn’t stemmed out of their mother’s mind. this is not to villainize nesta, but merely explain how elain was never made out to only be a “pretty face” to feyre. but of course it’s important to remember that she isn’t scotch free for how she acted in their childhood.

It wasn’t that Elain was cruel. She wasn’t like Nesta, who had been born with a sneer on her face. Elain sometimes just … didn’t grasp things. It wasn’t meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty.

Perhaps buried it a bit, but she was generous, loving, and kind—a woman I found myself proud to know, to call sister.

Elain mouthed my name but kept cowering, kept her head down.

Elain, who had been gentle and sweet.

I had not painted in years at that point, had not dared spend the money on myself … But Elain had.

She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger.

“She loves her garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when—when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.”

nesta and feyre both have two different feelings regarding elain but they are similar in that they both believe she needs to be protected. it’s pretty clear when elain reminds them of how they only thought of her trauma when it affected them.

“Elain was right. We’ve become so focused on how her trauma impacted us that we forget she was the one who experienced it.” (Feyre)

quite honestly, it’s the inner circle members who are aware of elain’s potential and look at her as not defenseless compared to her sisters. this of course makes it’s quite ironic that she’s used as “pawn” to get nesta to stick her neck out. moving on, it’s specifically azriel, who is someone she chose to create a bond with and probably knows her best. cassian also may be someone who considers elain to not truly belong to night court but does shift his opinion on her overall character.

“Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.” (Amren, oops)

“Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think of Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.” (Cassian)

“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also don’t think we’ve seen all she has to offer.” (Rhys)

rhysand is also someone who slowly begins to see elain in a different light as well as feyre by the end of the book. in fact, it takes rhys expressing his opinion of elain, as someone who didn’t grow up with her, for feyre to see things differently. it takes rhys, who brings back up the first description of elain in the series, for feyre to recollect another element of elain.

“It wasn’t meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty.” (Feyre, ACOTAR)

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” (Rhys, ACOSF Bonus)

“Have you ever seen Elain act like that before?”

“No. I mean, she’s been brave when she had to be, but she’s never been confrontational.”

“Maybe she’s never been given a chance to be that way.”

“You think I stifle her?”

“Not you alone. But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.”

in conclusion, elain is a character who’s journey is yet to be complete. the first real choice she had was to not hunt for the family but essentially, she’s been deprived of real choice and independence her entire life. besides being pretty and marrying well, not much has ever been expected of her until she left the garden of her childhood and planted her own. while she may have been turned against her will, elain found solace in dedicating her attention towards the garden in the archeron mansion, night court and all those who resided there. gardening and growing things is something she chose; not something that was inflicted upon her (such as a mating bond.)

elain does not belong somewhere or with someone because she gardens. we have seen countless times over that she can make her own place anywhere but she chose to make a home at night court.

#this is just a rant with quotes lmao #acotar #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #anti elucien #a court of thorns and roses

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 4 years

Text

Tangled Webs - Chapter Seven (Dark! Peter Parker x Reader)

Dark Webs Masterlist | Tangled Webs Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, language, Topics of death and depression, PTSD, more angst, violence, a bit more fluff and smut than the last series (but not in this chapter)? Somewhat ignoring the MCU timeline due to mature content

Word Count: 4825

Summary: After doing your best to walk on eggshells around Peter, you finally reach the boiling point as you and him face (most) of your drama head on…

A/N: It’s been a hot minute but I’m back with an update. Hope ya’ll didn’t forget about this series like I did lmao. I hope you like this chapter and give me some sweet words because I missed it so much! DM me to be tagged and I hope you guys like it!! Please like and share if you can! (Also I found this .gif on google, so if you made it, or know who did, let me know and I will credit!) Thank you xx -N

You barely slept the last few days as you trapped yourself in your apartment in Stark Tower since the incident. You were sick, with no possible form of treatment and to boot, you almost were found out by Peter about what you were doing. Two things you weren’t sure how to deal with just yet. But you knew one thing for sure, you couldn’t take much more of these secrets.

Not being able to see Peter or talk to him was killing you. And with you and him broken up, it only made it harder. You were always independent, especially when Peter and you stopped being friends. You made your own money, solved your own problems, you even saved Peter a handful of times. So it wasn’t so much that you were one of those girls who needed Peter to constantly save you; but you were a team. And everything you did together made the both of you even stronger. That was one of the reasons why Peter and you worked so well.

But with Peter gone, and you struggling with your own issues; you could feel yourself getting weaker and weaker. The lethal combination with Octavious and your disorder mixed along with probably the worst of it all; you were missing Peter and heartbroken over him being gone. And the worst part was that you didn’t even blame him for pulling away. You definitely deserved it after hiding everything from him. You just wished that even if you did tell him the truth, that it would be enough.

But how could it be enough?

Pushing yourself out of bed, you used whatever strength you could muster up so early in the morning. You needed to conserve that and your energy for when Octavious called on you these days, which would only make you even weaker in the process. You would laugh at the irony, but you were too tired to.

You didn’t want to think about your death but given recent events; it popped up in your mind pretty frequently these days. You didn’t want to think so morbidly and always tried to remain positive but how could you not when your body was literally at war and the venom that saved your life was also potentially killing you? Death was inevitable for you now, and you were looking at it right in its eye.

Of course, Peter was always one of your first concerns. You saw how when you started spiraling out of control affected him; how upset he would be, or how Peter would blame himself for his actions. It killed you to think what he would say or do when you weren’t there to keep him grounded and remind him that there was nothing he could have done. That it wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t blame or punish himself; and that finding somebody responsible was a waste of time.

You wanted to tell Peter to prepare him, to get the grieving out of the way if he could and enjoy whatever time you had left with Peter. But now, you weren’t even sure if you and Peter were going to make amends, and that scared you more. Would he even care about your health now? As much as you wanted him to, you knew Peter should focus on himself anyway. So you couldn’t help but think that maybe if he didn’t know, it would be best for everyone.

Snapping yourself out of your dark thoughts for a moment, you heard your coffeemaker go off. Grabbing your mug and bringing it to your lips, you stopped as you felt something run through your body as you stared at the front door. Somebody was coming to the door. Morgan had school and no way was Agent Kent knocking on your door after you made him look like an idiot in front of half of S.H.I.E.L.D.

You hurried to the door, hearing the door handle begin to jiggle and opened it. Your eyes widened as you looked at Peter standing in the doorway wearing a navy blue hoodie and jeans. His soft brown curls tousled and all over the place as his tired and now bloodshot eyes were staring back you bewilderedly.

“Hi,” you spoke out in a tired voice. Clearing your throat as you opened the door. The first time you actually saw Peter. The last time you saw him was at the ATM, unbeknownst to Peter that you were the one who knocked him into the window, leaving him to explain that to S.H.I.E.LD and Kent how he still hadn’t caught you. Again.

“I...uh...how did you know I was here? I didn’t knock?” Peter questioned as he looked at you. He knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. Nine days and eleven hours, Peter was counting his days a lot lately. It had been nine days and eleven hours, but it felt like it had been years dragged out of him. And now, he didn’t know what to say.

You looked different to him for some reason, and he couldn’t figure out why. He used to love seeing you in the morning with a fresh face as you made coffee wearing one of his old school hoodies. But this morning, you looked like a different person to him. Tired, pale, almost like you were getting sick.

Letting Peter in, you cleared your throat again, “I heard footsteps,” you answered to try and tip toe around the subject. You looked at the coffee on the counter as you ran your fingers nervously through your hair, “Coffee?” you offered him, not sure what to say to him. You never thought you’d see the day where you and Peter had nothing to say to one another.

Peter shook his head, “No, thank you. I just came to pick up some things,” he admitted, pressing his lips into a line as he showed you the duffel bag in his hand. Was he really about to pack his belongings and move out? Granted, it was just a few floors up; but how long was he planning on staying up there? Another week? A month? Forever? He didn’t like any of those options at all. But he knew he had to do it for now to protect you and most importantly; to protect you from finding out that Peter started drinking again. He knew if you found out, it would only trigger you more. And it was just the two times, he was hoping he could get himself to a meeting before anybody else found out.

He headed into the bedroom towards the closet, placing his bag on the chair nearby and unzipping it. He wasn’t really even looking at what he was taking, just grabbing whatever he could and began stuffing it into his bag. It felt like he was almost saying goodbye, and it wasn’t what he wanted to do at all.

Peter had been dreading coming here for days but he needed fresh clothes and truth be told, he wanted to check in on you. He had missed you these last few days and you always calmed him down no matter what you were going through. But he was worried about you too. And as much as he wanted to be there for you while you dealt with your demons, he also knew his demons were at bay and he couldn’t be around so much chaos right now. For his own sake.

“So...” you started to say a bit awkwardly, leaning up against the door frame as you stared downward towards the ends of your hair, “I think I may have a name for the guy you put away from the ATM. I was going to try and research a bit today,” you offered him what little intel you had. Especially since you couldn’t say much without mentioning Dr. Octavious, that would only connect Quentin Beck to you and you knew Peter would get killed if he knew too much.

Licking his lips as he jammed some sweatshirts into his bag, Peter nodded slowly, “Just be careful, okay?” he finally said as he kept his eyes on his bags, almost as if he was afraid to look at you otherwise he didn’t know what he would do. If he did, he’d probably stay longer, “Can’t trust many people right now,” he said a bit lower.

Yeah, like me, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly. All you could do was nod your head as you tucked your hair behind your hair nervously. You couldn’t do this anymore. The hiding and lying. You were building so much inside of you and it was only making you feel worse, mentally and physically. You couldn’t afford to lose Peter, not now.

Moving a bit closer to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “P-Peter, I-I have to tell you something,” you stammered, feeling your voice grow weaker as you felt the lump grow swollen in your throat. You were terrified of this moment, and you were more afraid because Octavious was listening in, as always. And if he was, then you didn’t have much time at all to tell him.

Peter’s brow furrowed as he turned his head to face you. He saw the distraught expression on your face and knew something was wrong. He knew you were hiding something from him and it was literally tearing the both of you apart, “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked you as calmly and rationally as he could.

You sucked in a sharp breath as tears began to prick your eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like your legs were about to collapse at any moment. Your bottom lip quivered the more you stared into Peter’s big eyes, trying to find your voice in the silence that was deafening between you both.

“I really fucked up. I…” you trailed off as you began to cry, the tears streaming down your cheeks more now, “I was so stupid and now it’s worse. So much worse, Peter,” you told him through your sobs.

“What? What’s worse, Y/N?” Peter asked as he raised his eyebrow. He was afraid of what you were hiding, but he hated the fact that you were hiding it more than anything. Whatever it was, it was big enough for you to decide that it would freak Peter out; and that bothered him the most. That you thought he couldn’t handle whatever it was you were going through.

You sniffled as you stared down at the floor, unable to even look at Peter right now as you tried to relax your breath, “Last summer...when I…” you could barely get a word out between your sobs, “At the game,” you finally got out.

“The game?” Peter questioned, his eyebrow quirking up as you looked at you suspiciously, “The Yankee game? With the elemental?” he asked for clarification.

Shaking your head frantically, you grabbed Peter’s arms to pull him closer, “That’s just it, Peter. It wasn’t an elemental! Don’t you find it strange you didn’t find anything that night? You came home empty handed,” you explained, your voice becoming more and more hysterical.

“Y/N, what are you saying?” Peter asked again, trying to figure out what it was you were trying to tell him. You had so many secrets these days, Peter knew that. And he couldn’t tell if this was a secret, or was it a bender? “Do you know what was responsible for it?” he tried again, trying his best to keep his tone level. He hated seeing you so upset and he didn’t want to make you any more upset than you clearly already were.

You nodded your head, “Okay, I know I sound absolutely crazy right now but I-”

You felt a pull on your throat, making you gasp. It felt as if your breath was taken away, like somebody just punched you right in your windpipe, preventing you from speaking. Wheezing out your breath, you saw Peter’s face waiting for you to answer. But you couldn’t utter a word.

Octavious, you thought to yourself.

He was listening in now, and controlling you. Preventing you from telling Peter the truth about what was wrong with you. Octavious wanted Peter dead and risking this conversation was enough, but you really needed to tell Peter what was going on. In hopes that maybe it wasn’t too late, for you or him; and some of these horrific events could be prevented.

And once again, you were frozen now. Blocked from telling Peter the truth and unable to help him find Octavious and get to him before he got to Peter. Or before you got to Peter. You were capable of so much these days, it frightened you to no end. And without Peter helping you control it, you were damned.

“What do you know?” Peter asked again, getting a little bit closer. He tried taking a whiff of your breath, but he couldn’t smell anything. His senses weren’t triggered, but he knew what a bender looked like. He’d hit bottom before. Granted his bottom looked a lot worse, he could still sense it from a mile away.

You tried to open your mouth but nothing came out. Tell him about the venom, you shouted at yourself. Tell him about Octavious, and the robberies. Tell him it was killing you and destroying you from the inside out. Tell Peter you needed his help.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you shook your head at him as you tried to speak; but nothing came out once more. You hated this. You were so close to being free just to be silenced once again. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. It was becoming more and more obvious how much you needed Peter’s help, and he couldn’t give you anything if you were being controlled by Ock.

“I will have you rip out his throat if you so much as whimper in his direction right now, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice threatened you inside of your head, and you felt your stomach beginning to churn once more. You always tried to fight back, but in this moment, you were truly terrified of something happening to Peter. So you didn’t.

Looking down at the floor, you focused on Peter’s sneakers as you shook your head at him. Biting your lip to restrain yourself from saying anything further so Peter wouldn’t get hurt. You could tell he was disappointed in you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

Peter sighed, running a hand over his face as he licked his lips, “Y/N, I know you’re going through a bad time right now. I’ve been there, and it kills me seeing you going down this path that I never wanted you to go down,” he had to stop himself for a minute, saying it out loud to you hurt him even more. He hated that this was the reality of your relationship, “I am so worried about you, I am. And you know I want to be there for you, and I’m trying to be. But you have to tell me what you need first,” his voice became rugged and raspy the longer he spoke, knowing he couldn’t say much else at that point.

He leaned forward, bringing his lips to the top of your head before he reached down and grabbed his bag on the floor. Taking a few steps towards the door before he looked at you one last time standing in the doorway, still staring down at the floor holding back your tears. And Peter was trying to do the same.

“I’ll be training all day and then I’m crashing with Kent if you need me for anything,” he finally told you, seeing you nod your head slightly before he turned and walked out of the front door.

The door shut behind Peter, and you collapsed to the floor. Sobbing to yourself as you grabbed a hold of the necklace Peter had given you, clutching onto the spiderweb pendant for dear life. You always told Peter everything. And now you didn’t even know who this person was anymore.

“We’re striking big tonight, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice ran through your mind as you tightened your grip on your necklace, “Rest up for it…”

--------

No matter what Peter did, he couldn’t shake the look you had on your face as he geared himself for his night. The look of pure terror on your face replayed over and over again in his mind as he got his suit on. His speech still fresh on his tongue while he pulled his mask over his head; wishing maybe he hadn’t been so harsh. The sound of your cries he overhead from the other side of the door when he left repeated while Peter initiated KAREN. He wished he hadn’t heard it, it nearly made him crumble, but he did.

Peter was in no condition to go out tonight. He had a lot on his mind with you, and the robberies, and how so many people were depending on him and he couldn’t deliver what they needed. And with the pressure coming from Agent Kent, Peter was really beginning to feel all the weight on his shoulders. And it was taking everything in him not to take another drink.

“I’ve got a good feeling we’ll get her tonight,” Kent said enthusiastically as he entered the room. He took a seat behind a computer chair as he gave Peter an all knowing smile, “She seems to be favoring the downtown area, and so far the museums are the only places she hasn’t hit yet. The Air and Space Museum is the only one that would have tech she may be after.”

“What makes you think she’s after tech? So far she’s only stolen money from bodegas or ATMs,” Peter gave Kent a puzzled face, did he know something that Peter didn’t? And if so, why wasn’t Kent giving him this information that was important?

Kent shrugged his shoulders as he adjusted his glasses on his face while focusing on the computer screen, “They’re always after more than just money, Peter. You of all people should know that,” he reminded Peter as he continued to pull some maps up on the screen.

“If you say so,” Peter said as he adjusted his web mode, making sure everything was working properly. You were usually the one who made sure his suit was updated, fixing Dark Web mode, and even making sure KAREN was properly synched up. There was always something calming about having you by his side before he went out as Spider-Man; even if it was just a basic patrol. You always calmed him down and made him feel like he was doing the right thing. Now, he was beginning to doubt all of that lately.

Peter’s eyes flickered to the counter top, focusing in on the bottle of Jack Daniels that was left behind from the other night. When he was planning on dumping the remaining liquid down the drain this morning before he went to see you. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He needed something to numb the pain, at least for the moment.

Without Kent noticing, Peter took a few swigs of the whiskey as he felt the warmth slide down his throat. It felt so wrong, and he knew it. And now, he felt absolutely disgusted with himself. Months of hard work and strength just flushed down the drain for a few sips to only make him feel more miserable for it. And now he had to find this robber half sober, half buzzed.

Peter went over to the window, staring down at all of the city lights as the lump in his throat grew bigger. The city suddenly looked smaller to him, as his eyes grew bigger through the mask. Your face coming back to his mind as he tried to shake it off once more, but he was beginning to find it nearly impossible.

“Don’t be afraid to use your advanced modes on her, Pete,” Kent said from the computer before he swung away, “That’s why you have them, to get rid of people like her,” he narrowed his eyes on Peter knowingly.

So, Kent wanted Peter to kill this masked woman, essentially. Although Peter wasn’t exactly new to that idea, he had his history of killing and it got him here. He knew there were other ways to get justice, even if it took longer. But Kent was messing with his mind, and he was beginning to think he may not have any other option.

Nodding his head, Peter aimed his web shooter for the nearby lamppost down below as he swung out of Stark Tower. The moment he left, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved to get out of there. Even if it was to keep vigil.

Peter swung his way in no time to the museum. Everything seemed quiet in the city streets, making him feel a bit more at ease. He scanned the entrance, noticing no security to be found; which was oddly peculiar for a museum. Lights were on throughout the exhibits, and as Peter glanced up towards the camera, he noticed they were destroyed.

“Someone is here,” Peter said into his microphone, knowing Kent was listening in. He moved in towards the nearby exhibit for space missile technology, “Karen, activate Dark Web mode,” he whispered slowly as he felt the black webbing beginning to coat his suit before he went into the illuminated room to investigate. It was a little dramatic to go dark to see, but based on how strong this new rival was, Peter wasn’t about to take any chances with them.

Peter tiptoed his way towards the doorway, knowing he was invisible, but he still needed to proceed with caution. He peered into the doorway, frozen in the moment as he watched meticulously. Unbeknownst to his new friend that he was watching her every move. Making sure this time he would be ready to take her down.

The alcohol was swirling around Peter’s brain as he continued to concentrate. He hadn’t drank in so long, those few swigs that he had already affected him.

“Don’t overthink this, Peter,” Kent’s voice came through, “Remember what I told you, don’t be afraid to fully attack with this one.”

Peter had no idea why Agent Kent was so adamant about him being so cut throat. He knew the rules, and if Peter had to get more aggressive, he would. But right now, there was no reason to go the extreme. Especially since he knew how he felt towards getting his hand bloody. It led him down dark paths that he knew he didn’t want to go down again.

Feeling a bit dizzy, Peter pulled himself together as he took a few more steps forward. Watching her try and disconnect what seemed to be a missile on display from the exhibit area. What the hell was she trying to do with a missile, Peter thought to himself.

He got his web shooter ready, prepared to stun her for a moment with his taser web. Before he could aim in her direction, he felt a force punch him directly in his chest. His back hitting the wall with a thud as he whimpered. Opening his eyes as he saw her turning her head back to the missile, moving her hands even faster.

How did she even know he was there? There was no way she would have been able to even hear him unless…

...Unless if she had a spider sense too.

“Alright, that does it,” Peter huffed out as he picked himself up. He kept the Dark Web mode on as he whipped around so he was directly behind her, “I’ve just about had it with you and I’m done being nice about it,” he announced as he kicked the inside of her knee, buckling her to the ground.

Grabbing her by the arm, he heard her yelp as he twisted it a bit, “Deactivate Dark Web mode and turn off all communication,” he told Karen as he picked her up and shoved her against the wall as his suit came into vision once again. He didn’t need Kent in his ear right now. Not when he was this close to bringing her in and being done with this bullshit.

With her chest against the wall, he swiveled around. Looking into her eyes through her black mask as he raised her arm over her head. She had no weapons. And her eyes looked almost terrified. Her breathing was heavy as she kept her eyes on Peter warily.

“Who do you work for?” he tried to ask, leaning forward. His body pushed flush against hers as he had her literally backed into a corner with nowhere to go. His hand began to slide around her neck, squeezing in a little bit to threaten her in order to start talking, “You better start talking otherwise I will not hesitate right now,” he threatened through his teeth.

Peter squeezed a little more, hearing her groan as he waited for her to answer. He blinked as something bright glimmered along her neck, getting his attention. Adjusting his eyes, he glanced down at the necklace and squinted at her collar. The pendant staring back at him as his eyes rapidly fluttered back to her intense masked eyes; feeling his stomach drop.

“No,” Peter said in a low voice as he grabbed the pendant, “Y/N?” he asked.

And in that weak moment, you kicked Peter in the chest to break free. Sending him backwards and completely bewildered by what the fuck was happening…

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yolkyeomie · 4 years

Text

The Moon Is Beautiful | Kim Seungmin

summary — shooting your arrow into everyone’s heart had been so easy until you accidentally shot it into his

word count — 2.7k words

pairing — seungmin x gender neutral!reader (I tried to make it gender neutral,,,, let me know it’s not tho!!)

genre — fluff, high school au, CLIFF HANGER

disclaimer — this is for stayhaven’s valentine event so I hope everyone enjoys what I brought to the table :D !! sorry this is so??? messy and dumb and late LMAO just enjoy it for what it is 🧍🏾‍♀️

tags — @fluffyskzclub

You were bold and that’s what people liked about you. Well, bold in the sense that you had no problem doing things for others. Whenever someone was too shy, too anxious, too frightened to take charge you’d always be the one to do so instead.

It was a habit from when you were a child that only continued to grow and cultivate itself as a primary piece of your personality. You hated the amount of hesitation others took when a job needed to be done, watching people squirm and excuse themselves from doing such minuscule tasks was idiotic in your eyes. So you had always taken it upon yourself to offer up yourself as a substitution, to save both you and your peers from the potential disappointment or embarrassment that a situation called for.

Somehow everyone slowly caught wind of your selfless acts and they began to flock to your side in an attempt to gain your assistance. The issues usually were rather small: presenting in group projects, asking questions for others, ordering food, starting conversation, anything relatively close to those. You didn’t mind either, you never truly got sick of helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

Sure, there were times when people you’d rather not interact with seeked your assistance, but the mere fact that they had to swallow their pride and come to you was enough for you to continue without any second thoughts.

That was until you became the residential high school “Cupid”. It was a one time request, a girl you had known in one of your classes had scurried you to you in a rush and asked for your services and you agreed. She had beens a rather quiet figure amongst the usual rowdiness of the other students so one could only imagine how loud you cooed at her when she asked you to deliver a love letter for her.

So you did as asked, finding the lucky person who had such a sweet secret admirer and delivering the letter in a small yet endearing manner.

Not long after you had given the love letter to them, the two had gotten together almost immediately and you were thrilled. But somehow instead of the focus being put on the new couple within the school halls, it was on you? It had immediately spread that you were the one to give the letter and helped them get together and somehow that equated to you becoming Cupid.

After the occurrence that should have only been a one time thing, it became all anyone ever asked of you. Every few days out of the week you’d have a multitude of students rushing into your classroom when they got the chance and begged you to send their love letters to their crushes.

You’d try to decline for the sake of your own sanity but watching them grovel at your foot and beg was a little… uncomfortable to say the least.

That’s how you became the Cupid of your class, your grade, your entire school, and accidentally made the old childish tradition of sending letters to confirm a mutual attraction popular.

There’s only been two people so far that your Cupid’s arrow never seemed to notch though, no matter how many love letters were shoved their way. One of those being the boy that was approaching you now, Hwang Hyunjin.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin exclaimed, frankly waving his arms in the air and his eyes sparklingly with pure glee when he finally caught your attention. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, his happiness being contagious if you had to be completely honest. You could see why he often received the love letters you were meant to deliver.

Though your eyes immediately caught sight of the pink envelope in his hand, the sight of the object was rather familiar in your time as the resident ‘Cupid’ of your school.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” you jeered, a smug smirk beginning to stretch across your face as he approached you. “Hwang Hyunjin, the infamous lover boy of this generation, handing me a love letter? Tell me, who is the lucky person? I’ve got to know, this is the biggest news of the century!”

The boy rolled his eyes at your teasing, holding the letter away from your gremlin hand as he spoke. “Haha, that’s so funny but no! It’s not mine.”

You involuntarily whine at his response, snatching the letter out of his hand with one big hop and collapsing into the desk. “What do you mean it’s not yours?” You question him scanning the letter up and down for confirmation. It was a nice rosy pink shade and smelled just like lavender, as if it had been sprayed with the specific scent. It was shut tight with a heart stamp placed on it like a wax seal and even had pretty neat hand writing at the top that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You did, however, know that the handwriting belonged to the boy that stood right in front of you denying ownership of the letter. “This is your handwriting, how is this not yours?” You argued, “and don’t try to lie and say it’s not, I’ve seen your essay drafts enough to know what your handwriting looks like.”

The boy winced at the thought, quickly reminiscing on the memories of the two of you working together on projects before returning to reality. “I know it’s my handwriting, but it’s not mine— the letter, I mean! I was asked to write everything down because the sender wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Anonymous?” You repeated making sure you heard him correctly. You searched the envelope for any sort of signature and lo and behold, there was none that you could find. All that was left on the outside of the card was a yellow sticky note with a locker number written on it.

This was… a first for you. Usually when people asked you to deliver the confessions of love to the receiver, they wanted their name mentioned so that they wouldn’t get you confused with someone else. Even then, just in case, they always had their name written somewhere on their envelopes to ensure that the receiver knew exactly who they would be responding to. No one had ever asked you to anonymously deliver letters.

“What? Are anonymous letters out of your requirements?” Hyunjin questioned, playing with a strand of his silky black hair as he grinned at you.

You shook your head immediately, though struggling to release your gaze from the mysterious letter. “No, not at all. It’s just… new I guess? I’m so used to knowing who exactly I’m going to and who I’m delivering for. It’s weird.”

“Why? Because you’re no longer in the loop?” You nearly jump out of your skin as you turn around, the hair on your neck standing straight up like a cat’s. The doggish smile of Seungmin stared back at you, a teasing glint in his eyes as he took the envelope out of your hands. “Wow Y/N, I never took you to the nosy type… but I guess being the school’s Stupid Cupid changes you.”

This was the second person who’s heart you could never strike with your Cupid arrow, Kim Seungmin.

You struggle to comprehend his words, ignoring his insults as your ears immediately begin to burn in a sense of embarrassment as you bite back at him. “I’m not being nosy!” You try to convince him, taking the letter out of his hands. “I’m just not used to giving these without any background information, that’s all.”

“Does wanting background information mean you're being nosy?” The boy questioned, his light chuckle like music to your ears despite his taunting words, “your trying to poke your nose into business you have no right to be in.”

“These letters are my business,” you snap back, “I’m the one who delivers them, for free even! I should know who is sending them and who is recovering them. It just… makes sense!”

You’ve known Kim Seungmin for awhile now, you weren’t strangers at all. In fact your mothers went to school together when they were your age, so in a sense the two of you were close. But Seungmin always treated you like an annoying little sibling any second he caught, pushing whatever button he could find. You never bickered, per se, he just enjoyed making fun of you and you were very easy to make heated.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever…” He shrugged off, not even noticing how much he was pushing him buttons. “Whether you like it or not you are not entitled to that kind of information. Let’s be honest there’s probably a reason that it’s not stated who is going to and who it’s coming from.”

After a moment of thought, Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “You’re a very well-known person around the school now, they’ll be put in the spotlight just because you’re involved in their romance. They probably won’t like all that attention but still want you to deliver the letter.”

“Well…,” You trail off seeing their side of the argument. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, you do have to respect their privacy. “Ugh, I hate it when you guys make sense it makes everything less fun.”

Seungmin grinned ear to ear at your surrender, quickly shooting an off handed comment,” we’re just trying to make sure that our Stupid Cupid doesn’t get into a fight with someone because they decided to invade someone’s privacy.”

“It’s not invading privacy!” you snap back at him, beginning your daily bickering once again. You knew he was right but you’d rather jump into the ocean and let Seungmin have the last laugh. “What, I should go deliver this before class starts… And before I decide to choke you out.”

“Wise decision,” Hyunjin laughed, side eying Seungmin as you stood up from your seat. “I’m almost one hundred percent sure Seungmin wouldn’t be able to fight back anyway.”

“Hey—!” Seungmin didn’t get the chance to respond, not when Hyunjin leaped over the desk to cover his mouth and you begin dashing out of the room. As popular and close to Seungmin as Hyunjin may seem, he would always cover for you at the end of the day. Which worked out well in your favor... most of the time.

Thankfully he had held off Seungmin long for you to get away, gleefully skipping down the bright hallways with a pep in your step. It didn’t matter how many times you had to deliver a love letter to someone, whether it was anonymous or not, you’d always feel a warm feeling in your chest knowing that the feelings you held in your hand were raw and true.

And if you had to be honest? Knowing that the letter you had now was completely anonymous to keep their emotions hidden from the rest of the student body made your heart warm. Oh young love… how sweet it must be to be in love.

“One thirty-two…,” you counted to yourself, scanning the numbers written on the lockers. It didn’t take long to get where you needed to be, luckily the love letter was being delivered to someone near your own locker. You knew this hallway like the back of your hand since this is where you usually could be found.

Every so often a student would notice your presence in the area and spot the love letter in your hands, chaos soon beginning afterward. The whole hall would flare up in eager whispers and trembling hands as everyone wondered, ‘is it me? Is it my turn to get struck by your arrow?’

Their hopeful smiles would soon drop into disappointed groans when you passed them without a second thought, still searching for the anonymous receiver’s locker. Constant questions of ‘who is it this time?’ would spread across the room as you continued your search, as curious as you to figure out who was getting their heart pierced by Cupid’s arrow.

“One thirty-nine…,” you continued, blinking your eyes rapidly as you looked back from the love letter to the locker not that far from you. The sticky note attached to the letter had been addressed to locker number one forty-one and somehow you hadn’t noticed that that’s you. You're locker one forty one, that’s the one you were occupying for the school year. “Wait, what?”

You glanced from the locker number to the sticky note and it wasn’t wrong. You were at the right locker, which meant the love letter was addressed to you in the end. It really was your business after all.

“What am I supposed to do? Prick myself with my own arrow,” you joked, leaning up against the metal compartments to look a little closer at the letter in your hands. You were notoriously known for setting couples up together just by giving the confessions to them, but what were you supposed to do if you didn’t know who it was?

You didn’t mind getting into a relationship yourself, honestly you didn’t, but you didn’t know who it was from! Hyunjin gave you no clue and he didn’t even point out the fact that the locker number written on the sticky note was yours. “This makes me infuriated for some reason,” you mumble, pressing your back up against the lockers as you begin to carefully open the letter for yourself.

As soon as you opened the envelope the scent of lavender became even stronger, as if the letter itself was sprayed heavily with a lavender perfume. You also didn’t mind that though, lavender was your favorite scent for perfume. You could often be found trucking through the halls with the smell of lavender groves trailing behind you.

To the Stupid Cupid,

The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?

From,

Your Psyche.

“Stupid Cupid?” You hissed, annoyed at the teasing that could be found in the love letter. If someone was going to write you a love letter, shouldn’t they have been a little nicer to win you over? You get other couples together, but that doesn’t mean you’d be won over so easily. “How rude… there’s no need for name calling.”

This saying however, you’ve seen it before. Well, not seen, more like heard of it every so often. It was A Japanese saying that was seen as a more intimate and poetic way of confessing your love to someone.

You knew specifically because every so often you’d have other students run up to you and ask if the “the moon was beautiful, isn't it?” was a good way to ask out their long (but usually short) term crushes. No one that had ever asked you had the guts to use it since it felt like an odd way to confess but here you are now, staring at the words written on the letter addressed to you.

“Wait a minute… Stupid Cupid?” You repeated, standing up to your full height as you read over the letter again. You read it once, twice, three times, four, maybe even more before you realized that no one who simply admired you from a afar knew your nickname was Stupid Cupid, only close friends. Even then, Hyunjin had never used it as a way to address you, the words have never even fallen from his mouth and he’s one of the closest people to you.

You could already cross out him as a potential candidate anyway because you knew exactly what his handwriting was like after working with him for so long. It was even on the front and back of the envelope too, but the writing within the letter wasn’t Hyunjin’s at all. You knew it was a little too neat and legible to him. The only person with handwriting like this hand for have been…

“Hey, Stupid Cupid!” You turn your head with neck breaking speed, your eyes widening as the familiar nickname matches to the voice and face of Kim Seungmin as he walks down the hall. He waved his hands to you innocent as he caught your attention, his teasing puppy grin growing wider with every passing second as he called, “did you deliver that letter already?”

You glance down at the love letter before you look back up at him, the feeling of disbelief morphing onto your face as you blurted out without thinking. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it, Seungmin?”

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pawjamas · 3 years

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hey..i’ve been back from my stay at the residential facility for several days now and A lot happened, which i’m putting under a a readmore bc it’s potentially triggering (warning for mentions of s*xual abuse/gasl*ghting/etc) my life is basically being uprooted, so much happened in the month of June and is currently still happening, which i’ll explain below

i was admitted to the residential facility on June 9th, it seemed super promising, there was an abundance of 4-5 star reviews from patients online. my friend who currently is working in the mental health field researched about the facility and also confirmed that it seemed a lot better than most places are. the first day was kind of rough and i knew getting adjusted would be difficult but could never have expected what happened the following several days to happen. i made friends pretty quickly, my roommate on the first day there was very kind to me, she told me if i ever needed someone to talk to that she’d be there for me, we also shared the fact we were both nonbinary/just a lot of things we had in common so it was comforting to know her on the first day there.

i spoke to my psychiatrist the next day who told me i could get off “close observations” which is why i was in the room i was, the label is basically something you get put on if you’re at risk for s*lf h*rm/etc and need a staff member w/ you at all times. so since i was taken off of that i was switched to a different room with a different roommate. she was a 60 yr old woman who was in the other program offered at the facility (mine was mental health related and hers was for substance abuse/addiction) i didn’t feel too comfortable around her the first night, she complained about every single thing, she never participated in the groups offered at the facility, she told me over and over again how much she hated being here. the next few days were a blur and are still very fuzzy, my mind is still keeping all the memories locked away which has happened to me many times before w/ trauma where everything’s vague and not fully there.

basically, over the course i was roommates w/ this woman she groomed me and manipulated me into doing anything she wanted me to do for her, she physically/s*xually assaulted me multiple times, and caused my mental health to plummet even further than i thought was possible. i eventually did get to switch rooms, and i only recalled (again, vaguely) what happened those nights about a week later and reported it to the staff where half of them treated it like a joke. i went to the hospital the night i reported everything to get examined and ended up calling my mom on my friend’s phone (she drove to the hospital and stayed w/ me the whole time) and my mom was probably the worse to take my trauma/situation out of anyone. she told me i should’ve spoken up sooner, asked why i didn’t defend myself from this woman, basically the whole phone call was her blaming me for not doing anything about my assault. when i hung up my friend even told me that what she said wasn’t okay, and was victim-blaming.

i left the hospital and got back to the facility around 1:00 am, and the following days i spent there i was continuously getting worse because being in the environment my trauma had happened was preventing me from healing, plus i literally had to be in the same rooms as the person who had assaulted me and seeing her was extremely triggering. she continuously would call me crazy and delusional and that i made the entire thing up, i had difficulty telling what was real and what was not because of how bad i was treated by her and the staff. i’m thankful i met some really kind patients there that became my friends, they helped me the most out of anyone there. at one point a nurse had pulled me into a room and told me how i should never have spoken up about my abuse, how i should consider how it makes my abuser feel, and stop talking to the friends i made about it. but i’m glad i had people who would actually listen.

i mentioned it once but again, my mom was probably the worst person to talk to when all this was happening, at one point one evening when phones were available i called her and told her i needed to leave, i wanted to come home because this all of this was affecting me so badly, and she screamed over and over that i can’t come home and i have to stay, that it’s too bad that happened but continuing to do the program was more important. at that point i broke down and cried, begging her to let me come home and she screamed repeatedly for me to shut up and then hung up on me.

after that evening i knew that i wouldn’t be taking any shit from her any longer, i called my friend who lived nearby about her the following day or so, asked if i could stay with her at her apartment, which didn’t end up happening because we both worried my mom being as spiteful as she is would take legal action if i did leave w/ my friend instead of my mom. i ended up talking to a couple of the friends i made there that i was having bad intrusive thoughts, and that evening i was baker acted (involuntarily hospitalized) and transferred to another facility, which could’ve been because of the staff or me being reported for the thoughts i was having, but regardless i was away from my abuser and didn’t have to see her again.

the hospital i stayed at was...a lot worse than the other place, i barely got to speak to the psychiatrist/therapist during my entire time there, people would joke about how little time you got w/ them. they ended up keeping me there longer than the required 72 hrs, which i asked multiple people why and never got an answer, at one point my mom wanted to make sure i was sent back to the residential facility of which i had to explain would be detrimental to me and my health, but as usual when she had her mind set on something she won’t listen to reason or anyone who explains other (more beneficial) options.

i ended up calling my friend that lived back in the town i live in, told her the whole story and what’s been going on, and ultimately asked if i could move in with her because her and her family had already offered to let me. she was more than happy to have me move in, so that’s what i ended up planning on doing when i got discharged, was have her pick me up instead of my mom. and i called my mom to tell her that i’d be moving out, all the reasons why it’d be beneficial to us both, she took it horribly and told me if my friend picks me up i can never ever come home again and that i’m kicked out. i told her that’s fine, even though it hurt so badly when she said it.

finally, the following monday i was discharged, my friend from back home picked me up along w/ her husband, and we made sure to get all my things from the residential facility (my clothes/shampoo/makeup/etc) before heading back to her house, which was about an hour and a half drive home.

so now i’m staying w/ her, i still feel out of place and disoriented and uncomfortable but her and her family have been very welcoming. i’m trying to get all my stuff from my mom’s but it’s been a huge struggle to get anything from her because she loves to overcomplicate anything and then make it seem as if it’s all your doing and she’s the biggest, kindest saint ever to grace your life. my friends and i all think she has undiagnosed/untreated bipolar, and i definitely think she at least needs therapy and meds too but she doesn’t believe in either for herself. i just want my stuff back, and i do miss my room a lot and jazzy but there’s no way i’m getting either back, i’m also worried how my mom is treating jazzy because she hates him and i’ve witnessed first-hand what she’s done to him before.

i might post my p*ypal / v*nmo (censoring bc i think tumblr is weird abt posts that have these keywords or smth) because i don’t have any income rn...thank you if you read all this lmao i still didn’t even cover half of the other stuff i went through at the place i was baker acted but essentially my life has been turned upside down and i’m having to figure out how to keep going despite it all

#diary 📖#please read if u can #i want to get my tablet back so i can open commissions #idk why my mom wouldn’t let me have it but she’s Super spiteful so who knows #i want my switch too/laptop i especially need my computer ughhh #genuinely when i thought things couldn’t get any worse there was an extra layer of hell for me to fall into

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muwur · 4 years

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Since requests were open I was wondering if I could request father headcanons for iwai + ushi + atsumu 🥺 btw your writing is vv tasty n I can’t wait to see you write more !! Keep up the good work n stay safe !!

haikyuu daddee headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for iwaizumi, ushijima, and atsumu

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.4k words

a/n: omg u called my writing taSTY Dx i cri tySM 💞 that is a high compliment for me AHAHAHAH ILY and ty for the request!

also my lovelies i m back i m sry i was gone so long feojfe i miss yall <3 here u go enjoi, this was fun to write lmk if yall want more characetrs AHAHA

current listen: accidentally in love by sHREK AAHAH jkjk i mean counting crows, they cant take that away from me by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong, love the way you lie by eminem and rihanna

requests: open!

iwaizumi

✧ prePARED daddy

✧ picked up on this parenting thing p fast, also does a lot of research so he’s ready to face any situation

✧ teaches his kids how to behave n respect others

✧ also makes sure they know not to talk to strangers and teaches them some self defense

✧ be warned these kids are packing a surprise can of whOOP ASS,, dont fuck w them,, plus u wouldnt want buff daddee iwa on ur tail

✧ honestly his kids would be ANGELS ,,, n thats cuz he treats them all so w e l l

✧ mans is ATTENTIVE. he asks his kids about their days, their interests, and encourages discussion about their fEELINGS 🥺

✧ always offers them really valuable and light-hearted advice

✧ and gives them the love and transparency we all wanted but never had--

✧ however his kids are easily (n negatively) influenced esp when uncle oikawa comes to visit--

✧ but mostly bc iwa gets annoyed and slips out a lot of curse words and a “shittykawa” and then his kids started calling oikawa that and now it’s ingrained in them forever fjoefefgfvi (*distant phlattykawa crying noises*)

✧ gives them LOTS of head pats and ruffles as signs of affection

✧ PACKS THEIR SCHOOL LUNCHES and ensures they eat a balanced meal

✧ attends all their games/events,, will get a bit rowdy hype them up

✧ def lets his kids sleep with him when they’re having a bad night or woke up scared from a nightmare (and waits for them to fall asleep before going to sleep himself fojref)

✧ when they were babies he usually succeeded to get them to stop crying by pulling funny faces, showing them their favorite cartoons, or humming a lullaby

✧ when they get older,,, u bet iwa would be suPER protective esp when their kids start being iNtErEsTeD in other people

✧ you: “iwaizumi, they seem like a really nice kid, though”

✧ iwa: *sitting with you in the car, across the street from the ice cream parlor your child said they were at, and spying from the window* “you can’t trust everyone, of course they seem ‘nice,’ they just want our approval”

✧ definitely did not interrupt his child’s potential first kiss at their house’s doorstep by slamMINg the door open “sUDDENLY” cuz he “hEard TheIR vOicEs and THougHt TO lET them In”

✧ effectively traumatized both kids

✧ tho he felt bad after n u made him go apologize so he did (and he was forgiven, only if he agreed to never spy on them again--)

✧ doesn’t stop him from scrutinizing every person yalls kid introduces to you tho

✧ overall a super supportive dad, 11/10

ushijima

✧ ok dEF does not know much about parenting ,, at first

✧ stared at his child like ???nani when you both changed their first diaper

✧ also had plenty of staring contests with his babies ,,, called it bonding

✧ was curious and tasted baby food once,,, immediately regretted it

✧ once put a volleyball next to his child, who attempted to bite it, and took it as a sign that they liked it

✧ after sum time n practice, his mind becomes split between “how to volleyball” and “how to dad”

✧ catch him in the kitchen wearing an apron and whipping up his kids’ favorite smiley face pancakes 😤😤

✧ has an amazing ability to get his kids to stop crying, does really simple things like give them their favorite toy or place a gentle hand on their hand or attend to their needs (mans can tell if they want food or needa poop) and they calm down immediately

✧ carried them on his shoulders once and now they never stop asking him for shoulder rides (not that he minds anyway)

✧ if theres two kids he can probs carry one on each shoulder cuz cmon ,,, have u seen this man

✧ always goes to every performance/game/event his child takes part in

✧ man smiles so soft™ when he goes to the 1st grade play and sees his kid’s name in the program next to their role as “townsperson b” (next year, they upgraded to “singing carrot” in a play about the food pyramid)

✧ if his kid ends up enjoying volleyball, he will teach them e v e r y t h i n g they need to know

✧ but is overall super supportive of anything else his child pursues and doesn’t push anything onto them, would rather let them choose what they want to do

✧ had n o idea what to do when his kid asked him about the birds n the bees asfghkl

✧ couldnt sleep one night thinking about it and just randomly asks you while yall laying in bed in the dARk like “so our child asked me how babies are made and I told them they came from watermelon seeds” (you: 👁️👄👁️ “come again”)

✧ you: *at the grocery store with your child*

✧ child: *hands you watermelon* “I want a little brother!”

✧ you: “haha of course honey” 👁️👄👁️ what do i do (*later to ushijima* “duhfojhguf we needa get another baby i promised our child a younger brother fohurof” ; ushi: “wat” ; you: “itS YOUR FAULT”)

✧ yall eventually tell them not every watermelon can produce babies only really special ones that are really hard to get fhuoefkfotfi theyre not ready for the truth

✧ another great daddee, we stan

atsumu

✧ knew parenting was stressful esp with bABieS but was like eh it cant be that bad right

✧ think again

✧ g o o d b y e s l e e p

✧ develops phat bags under his eyes, responds with a weak “aha im fine just that parenting life and the kids ykNOW” whenever his teammates ask if he’s oKAY

✧ tried to tempt his kids to eat their mush baby food by trying it himself, nearly gagged but was able to say “eughh yuMM”

✧ loves to lift them high up in the air, even throws them up a little and nearly drops them (yall almost died from feAR but babie was having so much fun,,, yall agreed to be just a bit more careful)

✧ rlly bad at getting them to stop crying, gets very stressed when he’s exhausted every option he can think of then calls you over for some help/advice (you: *immediately calms them down* ; ratsumu: “how--”)

✧ calls up osamu a lot to ask him how to make food ,, then simps whenever his twin brother comes over and the kids are in love with this man and his cooking (”dad why cant you make stuff as yummy as this”)

✧ very affectionate with his kids, gives them lots of hugs and kisses on the forehead

✧ plays with them a lot! whether it’s sports, just dance, animal crossing, or UNO, yOU NAME IT WE PLAY IT

✧ also has no mercy when playing competitive video or board games,, has made them cry more than once LOL

✧ so sometimes he toned it down n let them win,, until his kids actually got better and DEMOLISH him every time

✧ is cool with his kids cursing, just as long as they don’t do it in front of their teachers LMAO

✧ plays innocent when he gets a call from school saying his kid was using ‘inappropriate language’ and is like “whaaat? my child? im not even sure where they learned that, maybe check if the other kids in class are saying those things, too--”

✧ reminisces how much nicer his kids were to him when they were younger and all the time they spent together,,, bc now that they reached their tEeNS they want alone time

✧ wants to be B) cool dad so he tries kinda hard, esp in front of their friends but his kid’s just like dad pls dofjrgjigtgro

✧ also very supportive of whatever his kids want to pursue and dedicates time to help them in whatever ways he can (whether that be to help them practice, make sure he can provide transportation, get them supplies, etc)

✧ always playfully competing with you to see who’s the “better” parent (you win by default)

✧ PROTECTIVE dad and will easily intimidate ANYONE who crosses his kids

✧ takes sum adjustment and mental resilience but daddee atsumu perseveres 😤 absolutely loves his kids and would do anything for them

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #ushijima x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu daddies #LOL #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #atsumu miya #ratsumu #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu reader insert #requests

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thisisawonderfulusername · 4 years

Text

let’s save the world

season one, episode five

five hargreeves x reader

summary: finally explaining what was going to happen to luther, as well as making a deal with the handler

trigger warnings: cursing,

word count: 6k

flashbacks are in italics

a/n: i’m sorry that this one took a bit longer than all the other chapters, i’ve just been busy with a bit more schoolwork lately lol. but i hope you enjoy it! i had fun writing it *3* plus it’s the longest thus far, so maybe that makes up for the time gap lmao

you couldn’t remember how long it’d been since you got stuck here. years. lots of them. years since you had last seen five- seen anyone at all. the seasons changed and all you were doing was surviving. it wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, but you were too afraid to just give up and die. so you kept going, hoping that one day you would escape this nightmare or just fall to the ground, the life finally drained from your body.

most of the days were spent alone. you remember the day you first saw another living being. a dog. a beautiful german shepard. you weren’t sure how she had survived the apocalypse, but you didn’t care. she was like a ray of light beaming down on you after you had been left alone in the dark for too long, the pitch black being all you remembered, until you saw her.

she was named miracle, for obvious reasons. she stayed with you throughout many years, as she had been just a few months, at most a year old. in the hot summer, where ashes blew through the air in the wind, you found her some of those doggy goggles, to protect her eyes from the smoke and ash. in the winter, when it was freezing cold and snowing almost every day, sometimes to the point of not being able to travel at all, you would wrap her in as many blankets or put as many clothes made for dogs that you could find just to keep her warm. sometimes, you even carried her for hours, sometimes even a whole day. you swore she was the reason you kept your strength- both physical and mental.

she had been your delores. but you didn’t fall in love with her, of course- and she was actually a real, living thing. you were extremely lucky to have found her.

when she inevitably died and you were left alone again, you were beginning to think it was the end of your days. your hair had grayed, and you felt tired. tired of searching for your next meal, for a place to take shelter in a storm or a blizzard that was impossible to navigate.

you were ready to give up at that point. your fear of death was dwindling. you had given up hope of finding five again. who knew where he was? if he was dead? if he had went back to your time and totally forgot you? every once in a while, he would pop up in your mind, and you would think about him for hours, just wondering. but never hoping.

you remember the day you got everything back. it had started with fear, but ended with you getting a nice haircut, a shower, and some new clothes. the world was even kind enough to give five back. you thought it was all a dream and you had finally died, but you hadn’t.

it was when you were walking, yet again. your hiking pack that you were lucky to have found slowed you from all of the weight it held, but every last bit of that burden was important.

you thought you were seeing things at first, when you noticed the figure of a woman in the distance. you had pulled your pistol out of the holster resting against your thigh, prepared to shoot if it happened to be real. you didn’t know what it would be. a monster, some other survivor who may try to steal your supplies- you didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. if it was living, it was a threat.

as you got closer, the hand gun clutched tightly in your hand, you saw that it was a woman. certainly, she hadn’t been surviving in this apocalypse like you had. she was well groomed, hair in perfect curls with makeup done to perfection and a nice dress adorning her body. no, this was your eyes playing tricks on you. it was impossible for her to exist.

you had finally gone truly insane, after all these years.

you had awoken to a pounding headache and a terrible pain in your thigh, groaning as you buried your face into the pillow beneath your head. there was a conversation happening around you, but you tuned it out, trying to focus on the pain slowly dulling and everything you felt around you.

you were laying on a bed, that much was obvious. another obvious thing you noticed was the fact that your arm was wrapped around something- or, someone.

finally lifting your head, you squinted as you saw five’s back to you. your arm had been wrapped around his waist. sitting up, you quickly remove it, feeling a bit of heat on your face which you ignored.

“finally, you’re awake.” five interrupted the exchange between him and luther, turning to look at you as you scooted to sit by his side, running your fingers through your messy hair to fix it up.

after yawning softly, you nod, “i sure am.” you mumble, thankful that the pounding in your head had dimmed to a slight ache that you could easily ignore. your leg still felt like it was on fire, but you felt that you could suck it up and deal with it for now. “what’re you guys talking about?”

luther seemed serious, and you had a feeling you already knew, you just needed some confirmation. “the end of the world.” he states simply, and you nod, your suspicions correct. “so the eye’s a dead end?” he questions, handing the glass back to the boy, who nods.

before you can even get a word in, the door slams open, causing you to practically jump out of your skin, standing from the bed as diego storms in. “you have any idea what you two did?” he questions loudly, and just before he can do anything to either of you, luther grabs him, his feet dangling over the floor. he yells at him to put him down, but he doesn’t back down, waiting until he calmed down.

“wanna tell us what the hell you’re on about?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed as you take your seat once again, fully awake now from the scare.

diego looked at the two of you, the anger he held clear. you would be scared if you didn’t have the ability to burn him to a crisp, but, you did. “these two have been pretty busy since they got back.” he points a finger at you guys accusingly, and you roll your eyes, “they were in the middle of the shootout at griddy’s, and then at gimble brothers, and when those guys attacked the academy, they were looking for them.”

“actually, i wasn’t a part of the gimble brothers one. that was all him.” you wave a hand in five’s direction, but it doesn’t change the fact that diego is pissed. “and either way, it isn’t of your concern what we’ve been doing.”

“it is now.” diego breathes heavily, shaking his head, “they killed my friend.”

now that, you weren’t totally expecting. sure, the commission was ruthless and did whatever it took to carry out a mission, but how did his friend get into the middle of all of this? luther turned back to look at the two of you, urging you to explain.

sighing softly as he looked to the floor for a moment, five gave them what they wanted. “they work for our former employer.” he begins, lacing his fingers together in front of him, “a woman called the handler. she sent them to stop us.”

nodding slowly, you lean back on your hands, “soon as your friend got in the way, they were fair game.” you shrug.

“well, now they’re my fair game.” diego speaks lowly, “and they’re gonna pay.” he turns to leave, already making his way to the still open door.

five tries to stop him, explaining that it would be a mistake, which you fully agreed with due to the extensive training all the assassins went through at the commission. he didn’t listen, simply closing the door behind him.

it was silent for a moment, before luther spoke again. “former employer?” he questions, an eyebrow raising, “what's this really about? and don’t give me the ‘it’s none of your business’ crap, okay?”

“it’s a long story.”

the woman waved. you still couldn’t believe this. it took you all these years, and you thought you would be able to keep your sanity, yet here you were.

“who the hell are you?” you yell out, slowly walking towards her, the pistol still ready to fire if she tried something. if she was even real. which wasn’t possible. “tell me why i shouldn’t shoot!”

“i’m here to help.” she tells you simply, also walking forward with the both of you stopping a few feet away from each other. you wanted to keep enough distance in case she had some sort of melee weapon, or if she made a move, you could shoot and run. “if you shoot me, you wouldn’t hear the offer i’m about to make.”

your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you gesture for her to continue, which she does. “i work for an organization. the commission.” she begins, taking off the shaded glasses that she wore and sticking them in the pocket of her dress. “we are tasked with the preservation of the time continuum through manipulation and removals.”

lowering the gun a bit, you purse your lips. “what the hell do you mean?”

“sometimes people make choices that alter time.” she explains in more simple terms, crossing her arms, “when that happens, we dispatch one of our agents to... eliminate the threat.”

hearing that, you’re immediately on guard again, raising the pistol in a heartbeat. she waves a hand, chuckling as she dismisses what you had thought. “no, no, you misunderstood. you’re not a target, y/n.” you don’t remember giving her your name, which worries you, but you ignore it for now. “i would like to recruit you. i’m offering you a job.”

lowering the gun, you drop it to your side, not knowing what to say for a moment. that doesn’t matter, because she does.

“we’ve had our eye on you for a while, and you have potential. survival skills, fire manipulation... we’ve even found another like you, who’s been here for just as long.”

your eyes widen at the mention of another who’s been here, and your heart leaps. “five?” if he was actually alive after all your hope was gone... you didn’t know what you would do.

“well, what a surprise, you know him.” she smiles, “it will be a happy reunion, then. but, you will have to give five years of service, after that your contract will end. you’ll be able to retire to the time and place of your choice.”

you had many questions. you could feel your heart beating out of your chest at the thought of being able to get out of this nightmare, to see five again. looking at her, you don’t even think. “i’m in.” you tell her breathlessly, and she grins at your agreement.

that was how you became one of the best assassins at the commission. a decision you weren’t sure you regretted or not.

“we were partners.” five tells him after explaining everything about the commission, even how the handler had found him. you didn’t bother with your story. it was practically the same. “the whole time i was trying to find out the right equation to get back. to stop the apocalypse. save everyone.”

looking up from the floor, where you had been lost in thought being brought back to those times, you clear your throat. “when he figured it out, we broke our contracts. but of course he got the equation wrong.”

rolling his eyes, five hits your arm. “so you two were hit men?” luther questions, earning a shared nod of confirmation. “well... you didn’t just kill anyone, right? you had some code?”

“no code.” five tells him, “we took out anyone who messed with the timeline.”

“what about the innocent people?”

“that was the only way we could get back here.” you mutter, your gaze fixed on the floor as you played with your fingers.

luther seemed surprised. “but that’s murder!” he contests.

“jesus, luther, grow up.” five responds, and you could tell he was starting to lose his patience with him. “we’re not kids anymore. there are no good guys and bad guys. there’s just people, living their lives.”

you purse your lips, “when the world ends, those people die.” you add on, your tone softer, “including your family.” luther looks at you, quiet and still taking in everything. you sigh softly, “time changes everything.”

the tapping of chalk against the walls was something you had quickly learned to tune out over the past few hours. at first, you wanted to rip your head off because of the constant sound, but staring out the window at everything outside helped take your focus off of it.

when the scribbling stopped, it was easy to notice, even if you weren’t listening in the first place. it’s a hard thing to explain. the difference between the sound of something and choosing not to hear it and the absence of that sound was just... different.

“i think i found something, delores.” five mutters to the mannequin, and you roll your eyes as you stand and move to look up at all the equations that now covered the wall.

crossing your arms over your chest, you try to make sense of everything, but it’s way too complicated for you to understand- plus it was scribbled everywhere over the wall and you weren’t sure what gave him what he needed. “sure, tell her but not me.” you grin as he turns to look at you.

“it’s a habit.” he says simply, shrugging and looking back to the blackboard the equations littered.

footsteps out in the hall catch your attention, and you turn to see luther standing in the doorway, just as confused as you by everything on the walls. “what is all this?”

you move to sit on the bed next to where five stood, sighing softly. “a probability map.” he still looks just as confused as before, and you nod, “i understand just as much as you do, buddy.”

“a probability map of what?” he questions, looking to five for the answer now. that much you hadn’t cared to ask. you figured he would explain it when he figured it out, as that was just how he was.

he continues to mark different things on the map, only taking a glance towards the large man. “of whose death could save the world. i’ve narrowed it down to four people.”

of course he had found some way to get a clue on what might stop the apocalypse. he was just that smart. “so, you’re saying one of them ends the world?” he asks, and you and five both sigh in exasperation.

“no, luther.” you lay back, looking at one of the equations by your head and trying to understand at least a little bit of it. “he’s saying their death could save the world. they probably don’t have anything to do with the actual event.”

the man breathes out an “oh.” watching for a moment, before leaning in slightly. “i’m not following.” he mumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“the slightest change in what happens can alter the outcomes in the time continuum.” you explain, glad that you understand one thing as you sit back up to look at him. “the butterfly effect, basically.”

five nods, motioning in your direction. “exactly. all i need to do is find the people with the greatest probability of impacting the timeline, wherever they may be, and, well-” he finally turns to look at him. “kill them.”

apparently finally finished with the complicated map, he gets off of the bed and places the chalk on the small table beside it, grabbing vanya’s book he had been using for notes and presumably writing the names down.

luther moves to look at the four circled, eyes squinting a bit. “milton green.” he reads off, looking to the younger- well, younger looking, “is he a terrorist or something?”

“i believe he’s a gardener.” five corrects, setting the book down once he was finished and reaching under the bed, pulling out a gun and pulling the zipper to open it up.

“wha- this is madness.” luther says, turning to look back to him, his eyes widening when he saw the gun, “where did you get that?”

he glances up at him, “dad’s room.” he picks the gun up, examining it. “similar to what i used at work. nice shoulder fit, reliable.”

“you can’t-” luther stumbles for words, surprised by what five was planning to do, “this guy, milton, he’s an innocent man!”

you groan softly as you stand up, looking up at the significantly taller man. “it’s basic math- to five, at least,” you shrug your shoulders, “his death could potentially save the lives of billions of people. he’d be dead in four days anyway. the apocalypse won’t save anyone.”

“we don’t do this kind of thing.”

“we are not doing anything, luther.” five argues, glaring at him, “i am. with y/n’s help, of course.” you smile slightly.

luther was clearly not going to back down, and you were beginning to get annoyed. he was wasting precious time. “i can’t let you kill innocent people, no matter how many people it saves.”

five shrugs, “good luck stopping me.” he turns to leave and you do the same, but luther is quick to try and do exactly that, grabbing delores and holding her out the window.

when you turn to see what he’s doing, you cringe, “not a good idea.” the gun is already pointed at him. sure, it was a bit overkill, but when it came to delores, five was ready to do anything. you still weren’t sure why, especially when you were back here and he had actual people around him. years of sanity were lost, though, so you assumed that was why he hasn’t gotten it back.

“i suggest you put her down.” you lace your fingers together, rocking on your heels slightly. you definitely didn’t want to see five blow his brother’s brains out over a mannequin.

luther doesn’t seem phased by the threat. “put the gun down.” he counters, nodding towards him, “you’re not killing anyone. don’t make me do this. it’s her or the gun.”

ultimatums. you’ve always hated them. what good was making someone choose between two things?

when five didn’t choose, luther didn’t hesitate in moving to throw the fake women, and the gun clatters to the ground as five jumped to save her. luther had moved towards the gun, quicker than you thought he could move. when he picks it up, you sigh softly. this time, five working on that map, luther stopping you two. you couldn’t get that time back.

“i can do this all day.” luther states, and you roll your eyes as you snatch the gun from his side.

he moves to grab it back from you and you glare at him, “don’t even try it. unlike your brother, i won’t hesitate to shoot you.” you take a few steps towards the bed, putting the gun back in it’s case after unloading it.

five was having a weird, tender moment with delores. honestly, you felt like you shouldn’t have been in the room to see it. “i know you’re still a good person, five.” luther tells him, while you zip the case back up. “you wouldn’t have come back here to save us all if you weren’t.”

you hated him, but the monkey man had a point. of course five didn’t care about the whole world. he just cared about his family. who wouldn’t want to save the people they grew up with?

“you’re not alone. we can help you.” well, that kind of hurt your feelings. it was as if you didn’t exist to him.

five sighs, looking back towards him. “there is one way.” you whipped your head towards him, slightly surprised. what was he thinking? “it’s close to impossible, though.”

“more impossible than what brought you two back here?” he raised an eyebrow, and you looked down at the plain covers on the bed, tapping your fingers against the fabric for a moment as you thought.

maybe it would work.

the car rolled to a stop on the old, empty road. you sat in the back, in the middle of the seat, leaning forward with your elbows resting on your knees. your foot tapped against the floor, almost without you realizing it. you were paranoid. this could get the both of you killed, if it all went south. you just had to hope that it didn’t

“i never enjoyed it.” five states, causing both you and luther to look at him in confusion. the whole ride had been silent, which you found incredibly uncomfortable, but maybe it was just the anxiety. “the killing,” he explains at your confusion, “i was good at my job, took pride in it. but it never gave me pleasure.”

pursing your lips, you look to your foot, which continued it’s tapping. “it would take a freak to enjoy that job.” you mutter, shaking your head and sighing softly, “i’m sure some of them did, though.”

five nods slightly, glancing back at you for a moment, “i think it was all those years alone.” he theorizes, “solitude can do weird things to the mind.”

tell that to delores.

luther hums slightly, “yeah, well you were gone for a long time. i was only on the moon for four years, but that was more than enough.” you never would have thought you would actually have something in common with the monkey man. sure, your experience was much worse, but he knew what you felt all those years ago. “it’s the being alone that gets you.”

there’s a moment of silence, before luther speaks again. “well, do you think they’ll buy it?” soft moment over, apparently, as he pats the case that sat between them. it was close enough in resemblance to the commission cases, so you assumed from far away, it would be believable.

“well, they’re desperate.” five tells him, and you nod, though they don’t see it since neither of them were looking towards you.

“losing that case is like a cop losing his gun.” you tell him, sitting up slightly, “the commission finds out, they’re in deep shit. plus they’ll be stuck here without it.” you shrug.

luther pulls the case to his side, “i should hold it. in case they try to make a move on you.”

five hesitantly nods, “okay, but be careful.” he tells him, “i’ve lived a long life. you’re still a young man, you have your whole life ahead of you. don’t waste it.”

you can’t help the short laugh from what he said. seeing who looked to be a thirteen year old boy tell a man in his late twenties, maybe, you weren’t totally sure, to not waste his life. it was hilarious.

his eyebrows furrowed together, five looks back at you. “what are you laughing at?”

a grin on your face, you shake your head, still giggling a bit. “nothing. just so wise beyond your years, five.” you laugh even more as he rolls his eyes, leaning back into the seat as you calm yourself.

once you had gathered yourself, you noticed the car that was coming towards where you guys had parked along the side of the road, and you sighed softly. fun time is over, now to get back to business.

you all got out of the car as they drove past and parked a little ways away. the wind blew your hair into your face and you quickly pushed it away, scrunching your nose up as you watched them get out of the car, their masks on.

“if this all goes sideways,” five turns to tell luther, also catching your attention, “tell delores i’m sorry.”

rolling your eyes, you slap his arm, “c’mon, mannequin lover. nothing will happen. hopefully.” you shrug, sticking your hands in your pockets and quickly moving to meet the other two half way, him quickly following behind you.

as you got closer, five motioned to the masks covering their faces. “are those really necessary?” he asks, and without saying a word, they both take them off, throwing them to the side. if you didn’t have to make a deal with them, you would shove a piece of glass in their leg, show them how it feels. but no, right now you have to play nice.

“where’s the case?” cha cha asks, getting straight to the business.

sighing, you shake your head. “that’s how you’re gonna start?” you raise an eyebrow, glancing back to where luther stood, “you know, we can leave, get back in the car and drive off.”

the woman is quick to pull out a gun, and you roll your eyes. these recruits, always so quick to resort to violence. “you won’t even get halfway.” she threatens, and you simply roll your eyes.

“maybe. but as i’m sure you already found out,” five speaks, his eyebrows raising slightly, “my brother is not your average giant.”

hazel leans to the side slightly towards her, “he’s right. dropped a chandelier on him, got right back up.” your lips press together at the mention. you definitely did not get right back up. well- you did, but you were actually injured, unlike the larger man.

“he’ll smash your precious briefcase before you can even take him out.” you imitate an explosion with your hands, quietly making the sound that would accompany it. they didn’t seem as amused as you were.

“probably us too, right?” hazel speaks again, motioning with the gun he held, “so how do we help each other out here?”

of course, five was ready to tell them what you two needed. “get in contact with your superior. we need to have a chat, face to face.”

cha cha looks slightly confused by the demand, tilting her head to the side for a moment, “about what?”

“what does it matter to you?” you raise an eyebrow, “you need the briefcase, so just do it.”

she purses her lips but sighs, shaking her head. “just don’t tell her about it.”

five shrugs, “fair enough.”

finally putting the gun she had pointed at the two of you down, the woman turned around, walking over to an old pay phone along the side of the road near where they parked. hazel followed, but didn’t turn his back on the two of you, and you did the same as you followed five’s footsteps.

when you got back to the car, you stood next to five, who leaned against the hood of the car. luther moved to stand next to the two of you. “what happens now?” he questions, all of your gazes trained on the commission workers who stood by their own car after getting in contact with the boss.

“now, we wait.” five tells him, one of his hands stuck in his pocket.

it felt like hours that you stood there, just having a staring contest with the two contracted to presumably kill you both. it was really only a few minutes, and the silence that hung in the air was broken by the sound of a light melody playing in the distant, and all of you finally looked away from each other to look for the source.

having to squint slightly, you saw an ice cream truck in the distance, slowly making it’s way towards you. why the hell would an ice cream truck be in the middle of nowhere? you knew it wasn’t the handler, so you didn’t know what or who it could be.

when it got closer, you saw klaus at the wheel, a grin on his face as he waved at all of you. you managed to catch a glimpse of diego in the seat next to him, and your confusion only grew.

“what the fuck? why are they here?” you ask, watching as the truck sped up a bit, “how did they even find out where we are?”

before you can get an answer, the two assassins had already lifted their guns and started shooting. eyes widening, you swung the car door open, as it was the closest and first thing you thought of, jumping behind it to avoid the bullets. a sharp pain shot up your leg and you hissed slightly, but ignored it.

after only a second of the shots ringing out, everything went silent. you had your knees to your chest, head tucked between them and your arms, and you were totally confused from the sudden pause.

“shit.” you muttered to yourself, not wanting to lift your head and see what had happened, “did i die? am i fucking dead right now?” you weren’t ready for death yet. you thought you were, but you are certainly not.

your cycle of thoughts was interrupted when you felt someone yank at your arm, and you jumped slightly, finally lifting your head from it’s place. you sigh in relief when it’s five, “you’re not dead.” he deadpans, and you roll your eyes as you grab his hand to pull yourself up, wincing at the burning of your thigh.

once you were up, you turned to face the music and see what the hell had happened. your eyebrows furrowed when you saw that everything was... frozen.

slowly walking by five’s side towards the two adults stuck in the air, you glance at him for a moment. “are you sure?” you mumble, before another voice cuts in.

“neat trick, right?” you both turn and your shoulders slump as you see the same woman from all those years ago, when she felt like a savior, taking you out of the apocalypse. as the two of you take a few steps towards her, she takes the glasses she wore off, holding them in her hand and having that same, awful smile on her face.

“hello, five. y/n.” she motions to your thirteen year old selves, “you two look good. all things considered.”

sighing silently to yourself, you decide you’ll let five do the talking for a bit. “it’s good to see you again.” he speaks, and you look to the road as you scrunch your nose up. it definitely is not.

“feels like just yesterday i met the two of you.” she hums, and you roll your eyes to yourself, “of course, you guys were a bit older then. congratulations, by the way,” she points to you guys, circling her finger a bit, “on the age regression. clever of you. threw us off.”

you snort, “if only he had done that on purpose.” you grin, sticking your hands in your pockets as you glance to the boy, who was clearly annoyed with you. “he got the equations wrong, if you can even believe that.”

“i just miscalculated the time dilation projections.” he shakes his head, “not like you could have done any better.” you shrug your shoulders, not having an argument for that. he was absolutely right on that front, because you sure as hell didn’t understand a single thing he ever did with all the crazy equations and probability maps and everything like that.

the handler waves her hands to the side, “you realize your efforts are futile.” she states, putting her hands behind her back, “so why don’t you tell me what you really want.”

“put a stop to it.” you say almost immediately, lacing your fingers together, “the apocalypse.”

she shakes her head slightly, “you realize what you’re asking is next to impossible, even for me.” her eyebrows raise as she speaks, “what’s meant to be, is meant to be. that’s our raison d'être.”

five lifts the hand gun he had been keeping close, his expression showing no emotion whatsoever. “how about survival as a raison?” he raises his eyebrows in a mocking way, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips.

she isn’t threatened by it, dismissing it. “i’ll just be replaced. i’m but a small cog in a machine.” she twirls her finger, “this fantasy about summoning your family, five, to stop the apocalypse,” she starts to step closer, and you stiffen slightly, “it’s just that. a fantasy.”

the handler manages to make you so angry without even genuinely insulting or seeming rude in any way. she says everything in such a light voice that you would expect to be saying anything that’s only kind, but she said the opposite. small jabs at you two without outright calling you out.

“i must say, though,” she continues after a moment, continuing her slow steps, “we’re all quite impressed. your initiative, stick-to-itiveness... really something.” she smiles slightly, “which is why we want to offer the both of you new positions back at the commission. management positions.”

five is just as muddled as you are by the offer. there must be some ulterior motive to this. “sorry, what was that?” he raises an eyebrow, letting out a small, breathy laugh.

she straightens slightly, “come back to work for us. it’s where you belong, we both know it.”

“didn’t work out too well last time.” you assert, tilting your head as you raise your eyebrows. you weren’t about to agree to something like that. unless five seemed to have some idea about it being a good idea, you wouldn’t do it. not in a million years.

the woman seems set on getting you back, though. “but you wouldn’t be in the corrections department anymore.” she explains, expressing with her hand, “i’m talking, the home office. best health and pension, and an end to all this travel. you two are distinguished professionals in,” she looks the both of you up and down, “school uniforms.” she chuckles.

finally being only a few feet away, she pushes the gun five held down. “we have the technology to reverse this process.” she tries to convince, “you can’t be happy like that.”

five’s jaw is slightly clenched as he stares right into her eyes. “we’re not looking for happy.”

her smile is soft, but you feel like she’s trying to deceive you- she always gave off that vibe, though. “we’re all looking for happy.” she looks between you two, “we can make that happen. you guys can be yourselves again.”

five lets out a short breath, finally fully putting the gun down, “and what about my family?” he questions, gesturing around to his siblings who were still frozen in their place.

“what about them?”

you can’t help but glare at her, “you know what. he wants them to survive.”

she takes a deep breath in, looking over to luther, his arms raised in the air with the fake briefcase in hand, before to the ice cream truck, where klaus sat in front of the wheel, his eyes wide, and diego looked to be in pain or as if he was cursing for some reason. she finally looks back to five. “all of them?” she questions, and you hold back another eye roll.

“yes, all of them.” five tells her, stating the obvious.

she nods, starting to put the sunglasses back on, “well, i’ll see what i can do.” she then holds her hand out, an eyebrow raising from behind the shaded lenses, “do we have a deal?”

the boy grabs your hand, ready to accept, but before he can, you glance to the side. “wait.” you hold a finger up, pulling away and walking towards the two corrections recruits. they both watch as you grab the gun that hazel had dropped when the truck had hit them, pulling the magazine out of it and throwing it as hard as you can to the side, before doing the same with the now unloaded pistol to the opposite side.

as you start to head back, five notices the bullet that had been frozen as well, heading in luther’s direction. silently, he walks towards it and moves it so it wouldn’t actually hit him.

you two meet back in front of the handler, hands already reaching for each other as you take a deep breath to prepare yourself for what would happen.

the next moment, you’re all gone, time continuing on it’s own.

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