#like the world's worst mystery grab bag

[puddingcatbeans]

gods the human body is a fucking nightmare. let me out

[astermath]

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[shortcakesturns]

Nic Sheff x female reader okay so like the reader also has some addictions but not drugs just weed and alcohol and maybe some self-harm too if you do that stuff and they basically try to help each other out but like Nic finds the reader like dead but not dead and yeah angst + fluff

Thank you!!

𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 - 𝐍𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐟

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝! 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬!!! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐨....

Living with Nic had been a roller coaster, with constant highs and lowest lows. Highs had been staying clean for days and lows were the days you were caught out in an alley buying from a mysterious man.

It wasn’t anything hard, so not a single thought crossed your mind while buying.

“it’s just weed nothings gonna happen.”

Weed wasn’t even the worst you had done, so you didn’t know why Nic was so adamant about you not buying anymore. Weed only took the painful thoughts away. Nic had pleaded with eyes full of worry for you not to go and buy. Here you were in a dark alley on a rainy night, meeting up with this random plug who offered to give you a good amount for a small price.

“10 bucks?” Confusion washed over your face.

“Yeah I mean, I just need to get rid of it.” he handed the bag to you.

“Alright man, thanks” You handed him the 10 bucks and strutted away feeling on top of the world for the deal you had just scored, you made your way to the car.

You glance at your phone, 2:48 am The phone reads. You glance at the text your mom sent about an hour ago still not knowing how to react.

“Y/n, you can't just keep ignoring us. All I'm saying is that it's bullshit you wasted your life when you could have gone to college like Amelia. Your sister is a perfect role model honey, love you!”

“Fuck Amelia and your petty bullshit momma, always Amelia this and Amelia that.” you talk to yourself leaving your mom on read.

You start your car and begin to head home, wondering what Nic would say if he saw that text, what he would say if he saw the weed you newly bought.

The drive was short, mostly when you're going 90 down a highway. Only takes around 10 minutes, the apartment you fled almost 45 minutes ago was now dimmed and seemed quiet from the window. You head up the stairs, play with your keys, and finally find the right one, playing with the handle you see the apartment is empty once you enter. A note is left on the refrigerator “went to get some food, I'll be back please be safe.”

You hastily open the fridge grab a bottle of tequila, rush to the bathroom, and lock it. Opening the window so the smell of weed would be faint instead of bold enough for Nic to walk in the door and notice. Turning on the water, you plug the drain to have a nice hot bath. You begin to undress and see the recently dried scars on your thighs, too far up for someone to see unless your clothes were off.

“Lucky you,” you said out loud yet again to yourself, it had been awhile since Nic had seen what your naked body had looked like, and you promised him you would stop.

“Yes Nic, I promise, I swear I'll never do it again.” the concern grew in his eyes as he traced his fingers over your cuts.

“Y/n…please. Never again,” he pleaded with you as tears fell down his face afraid he might lose you. That he might fail you.

You snap out of your thoughts and see the bathtub has filled up and you step in letting the hot water and steam consume you. You pop open the bottle of tequila and take a deep inhale of the cart you just bought, switching it out every time until your mind becomes hazy.

Something wasn't right, no you had gotten crossfaded before. Your head didn't feel light, it felt heavy and your movements were slow and you were struggling to move around, you couldn't focus. Had you been laced? What was going on?…. Your eyes began to go blurry and then it was black.

You could hear pounding on the door and the screams and cries of Nic, but you couldn't comprehend a thought, you felt so heavy and couldn't see.

“Y/n please, open this door please fuck. Are you okay?” his cries echoed through your head.

You tried to talk but nothing came out, you didn't move. A slam is heard, over and over again. The lock had come loose and you felt Nic hold your head above the water, now cold. When did that happen?

“Hello this is 911, whats your emergency.”

“Hello my girlfriend, she uh, she's passed out, she's barely breathing I-i uh- I think she overdosed? Send help please.” he breathes out shakily.

That was the last thing you heard before it all went faint and you woke up to the fluorescent lighting and hum. The occasional beep from a monitor.

Fluttering your eyes open, you see a curled-up Nic clasping your hand peacefully asleep and snot dried up around his bare nose. His eyes were red around the skin from wiping the tears away.

“Nic?” his head quickly jolts up and he stands up.

“Oh my god, hi sweetheart.” he grabs your chin gently kissing your lips afraid of hurting you. As if you were glass and he didn't want to break you. “Hold on, j-just hold on.” he presses the call button for the nurse.

“What happened? Nic…nic wh-”

“Baby, you were laced. Fentanyl. You're lucky you are even here, you were lucky to have the type of- no- not lucky at all but you didn't have the type that kills you instantly. but-” he drops his head into his hands pulling away from mine. “We have to talk.” he looks at me with his wide puppy eyes.

“Okay.” I look down at him. “You can't do this, you can't put yourself in danger. You can't lie anymore, you said you would be a better person for me. I said I would be a better person for you and you didn't hold up your end of the deal y/n. DAMIT.” tears threaten to fall from both of your eyes. He grabs your head and looks at you like nobody else exists in the world. His big eyes filled with tears was a sight that was engraved into your brain. “Just please baby. I'm here.” He cries.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Nic. I just needed some time to wind down and I didn't know. I just didn't.” your voice breaks.

“Please we need to get through this together honey, I love you so much. I saw everything honey, please you need to get better for me. I can't stand for you to hurt yourself like this.”

“I love you, Nic, I promise I will change for you, baby.”

[cyborg-franky]

What You Need

This is my piece for the super fun Boys, Boys, Boys zine we did!

Marco x Reader GN Mature but nothing TOO NS-FW just sexy men happening. WC: 2,300 Spot art by the ever lovely and talented @mamamittens

You had been bored, lonely, irritable. The ticking of the clock and the pitter-patter of rain against the window your only company. You looked out into the world below, the sky as gloomy as you felt. The city below carried on beaming brightly despite the darkness. The glowing lights of the world flickered and danced in your vision as the city refused to sleep. So many people filled the streets even at this hour on a dreary spring evening, and yet you felt it was only you in the entire world. 

The scene outside the window just plays before your eyes as you continue to feel disconnected from it. You sighed and leaned against the glass, forehead feeling the cool surface of the window as your eyes scanned the streets below. Something calught your eye, something you’d never seen before.

One of the side roads was dark; the only light was that of a neon blue sign that read Boys, Boys, Boys. The light from the sign bounced back in the puddles that collected along the narrow path. You squinted at the sign, seeing the inconspicuous wooden door underneath. Something about it called to you, the mystery of the sign and its welcoming glow.

You expected it to be some sort of bar. You had a quick shower and made yourself decent, slipping into a casual, smart outfit before you grabbed your bag. You felt the promise of the unknown spurring you on. Each footstep down the stairs grew quicker and more urgent. 

—

The blue light loomed overhead as you pressed your hand flat against the door, heart racing; what if it wasn’t even open? What if it wasn’t the sort of place you wanted to be? Suddenly, the door didn’t seem so inviting. But your feet were starting to feel damp from the puddles you’d ignored on your single-minded goal to reach the establishment, 

Maybe going in for a moment while the rain subsided wasn’t the worst idea…

You mustered all your courage and let the cold drip of water that fell down the back of your top and rolled down your skin be the deciding factor to at least seek shelter inside. You pushed open the door, and the smell of flowers greeted your nose. 

Looking around the place you were awe-struck. The dim lighting, save for the neon signs dotted around, gave the atmosphere of something much more discreet than just a bar. The carpet felt plush under your feet as you walked further into the establishment. Blues, purples, and pinks broke up the walls of the back. Silver trimmings on the furnishings glowed with the colors, reflected in the polished metal. 

A man stood behind the bar, glasses glittered in the lights above, becoming a blanket of man-made stars. You couldn’t decide where to look: the lights, the wine glasses hung above the bar, the collection of beautiful colored bottles that lined the back of the bar, or the very handsome tall blonde who was giving you a lazy smile, his stunning blue eyes half-lidded and watching with amusement as you stared at everything, looking like a fish out of water.

“First time here?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. You drummed your fingertips on the counter and nodded. “Yeah, though you haven’t been open long, right?” he chuckled a little. He grabbed a glass and began pouring in bright-colored liquids. The blue booze swirled around the glass as he placed a chunk of pineapple on the rim of the glass for garnish.

“Maybe you just never noticed us before, hm?”

Something about those words seemed cryptic but you pushed it aside, more interested in the drink he’d set down before you. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted anything. “How much do I owe you?” you asked, and his smile grew. “The first one is always on the house,” he explained with a growing smile as you took the drink and slowly sipped it, savoring the taste. “I’m Marco, by the way,”

“Wow Marco, this is good.”  you complimented him and nodded happily.

The way it tasted was unlike anything you’d ever had. It didn't have the telltale bitterness that came with alcohol; it was sweet but not sickly—the perfect blend. You watched the man in the neat suit, stylish frames and smoothed-back hair as he went about his business, letting you enjoy your beverage until the glass was empty. Setting it on the bar you got his attention again. “So, what is this place? It seems pretty quiet for a bar, even this time of the night…”

“Who said it was just a bar? This place is more than that,” Marco replied, setting down another glass of pretty blue drink. You could feel yourself licking your lips as you reached for it. “Then what is it?” 

“Allow me to give you a tour?” 

You watched as Marco opened a hatch and stepped out from behind the bar; you could see all of him now. His well-toned figure, tall stature, and smart suit pressed and cleaned and hugged him in all the right places. You did your best to avoid gawking at him, trying to keep your eyes level with his. Marco smirked though. Maybe he knew you were checking him out, perhaps he knew he was a damn good-looking man.

“Alright,” you said, setting down your half-finished drink and following him. He offered you his arm, eyebrows raised, curious about what you would do. Well, it was too late to show a lack of trust, considering you had just accepted two drinks from him. You took his arm as he started to lead the way.

“This place is for more than a drink. It’s to fulfill needs, desires, to chase one's fantasies. No one finds this place by accident. Maybe you were lonely, seeking company.” Marco speculated as you allowed him to walk you away from the bar, going deeper into the club.

Everything was decorated in dark woods and black walls bathed in neon glows of purples, pinks, and blues. Mirrors on the walls helped the limited light bounce around and illuminate the corridors. You were amazed at how beautiful the place was. You tried to keep up with Marco, his strides longer than yours.

Once again, you couldn’t help but stare at him, trotting after him as best you could as your eyes roamed over him. How his ass looked in those form-fitting pants, how he walked with a sway of his hips. He was a very beautiful man. You tried to pull your eyes away from admiring him when you almost stumbled on the gentle slope of the floor as you reached another section of the club.

“Steady now,” Marco shot you a smirk over his shoulder, the smugness evident in his voice. He knew you were still enjoying the view, enough to trip over yourself. “So,” Marco started again as you followed him into a large room. Darkness flooded over the velvet seating areas, but the stage was lit up. 

Your eyes opened wide when you saw a gorgeous man performing. The music was loud but fit his movements as he expertly moved around the pole in the middle of the stage. Blue lights twinkled all around the walls and ceiling. The spotlight focused on the dancer was a cool white, highlighting all his stunning features, including the smirk on his face and the dusting of freckles across every inch of his skin.

“He’s one of my favorites too,” Marco hummed as he stood still, arms folded over his chest as he watched the show. You were pretty sure your jaw was on the floor as you barely looked away from the stage enough to nod in reply. 

“You’ll like this, watch.” Marco grinned as you raised a confused eyebrow. “Ace is such a showoff…”

‘Ace’ stood there as the lights faded, plunging the room into darkness. Even the pinpricks of blue had flicked away to nothing. You were about to ask Marco what was going on and if this was normal when the music completely changed, and fire erupted in the darkness.

You jumped a little and stared at the performer once again. This time, Ace was only visible by the fire in his hands. How he controlled the flames as he carried on dancing, his movements as vivid and strong as the fire in the palm of his hands. “Remember to breathe,” Marco teased and nudged you, chuckling when you took a breath. 

“Fire Fist Ace, he’s one of our most popular performers,” Marco explained as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you away. 

There was another room, and this place seemed to go on forever. The room had a small bar, much like Marco’s one. Black and silver were the theme, with hot pink and bright purple neons this time. You noticed people around tables, either as couples, groups, or a few singles. 

“This is where our customers come to have a drink and spend it with good company,” Marco explained as you walked through the room. There was a cute blonde man with legs for days. His waiter's outfit looked like it was painted on. You liked his neat stubble and the curly eyebrow visible past the curtain of hair.

His name tag pinned to his waistcoat, Sanji. Well, Sanji was flirting up a storm as he set down a drink, taking the woman's hand and kissing the back of it, speaking in French and causing her to giggle, which just seemed to light Sanji on fire as he doubled down on the sweet words as his lips brushed against her skin.

You felt like you should be paying by the second.

Another man was clearing a table, his muscles flexing under the tight white shirt. He looked like he could barely be contained. His green hair was tinged with pink from the neons above. He had a firm jaw and high cheekbones. Zoro, his name tag read. You looked around the room and saw many waiters in varying outfits.

“Want another drink?” Marco asked as you followed him to the bar. You climbed up on the seat and leaned on the bar. “Yeah, surprise me?” you said to the man behind the bar, who nodded. You paused, breath stolen, as you admired the slender man with long black hair, thick eyelashes, and lipstick painted to perfection. 

“Thanks, Izou,” Marco comments when Izou also puts a drink up for him. 

“How many guys even work here?” you asked as you sipped your drink, slapping your lips. This was even better than the first one. You could feel the happy buzz from the cocktails thrum through you, relaxing you and letting the stress of life just slip away.

But you felt safe here. The atmosphere was amazing, and Marco’s laid-back energy felt like it was healing your lonely soul. You watched as Izou handed Marco a large black book. “So, this is actually the list of those who work here, people you can spend time with when certain performers are on…” he passed you the book, and you gawked. “An-and some other interesting stats I see.”

You were glad for the pink glow of the lights, hoping it would hide the blush that spread over your cheeks, burning the top of your ears as you tried not to act too excited by page after page of cute men. 

“How are you finding the place?” You looked up to see a very tall, buff man with long white hair, the ends dyed blue and green in a gradient. His big, bright eyes focused on you, and his grin grew at your stunned expression. “That good, huh?” he laughed and patted you on the shoulder.

“This is their first time, Yamato. Go easy on them, huh?” Izou playfully scolded from the other side of the bar as you gripped the book in your hands tighter to ground yourself. Yamato was stunning.

“Well, let me know if you need anything, huh?” Yamato said with a wink, giving a thumbs up. You couldn't take your eyes off his arms. He looked like he worked out, and then some. You watched him walk away. Wow, everyone was too good to be true here.

You sipped your drink as you flipped the pages. There was a wild assortment of people here, including a very handsome older man with lots of chub, Jinbei. You couldn’t help lingering on his page. How handsome he was… Next was a brooding man covered in tattoos, silver eyes, and a stare that could sink a thousand ships. Law, the page informed you.

Next was a red-haired man, missing an arm and a scar across his face; his smile was charming and boyish. Shanks. “If you are interested we have another show in about ten minutes. Go to page thirty,” Marco instructor, and you flip through the book of fantastic selection. “An adult clown?” you asked, puzzled as you looked over Buggy’s page. He had long blue hair, a painted face and a confident smirk.

“Trust me, it’s a great show.” Marco winked, watching you finish your drink and contemplate the offer. “I might… but is it okay if I hang out with you?” you asked and saw the smile on his face, the nod as he sat next to you. “Me huh?”

You don’t know why he seemed so surprised. He was handsome and friendly, and his voice was something you could listen to for hours. “Is that okay?” you asked, closing the book. 

Marco smiled. “I’d be delighted to get to know you more,” his knee bumped against yours and you couldn’t help the happy garbled noise that escaped you as you leaned closer.

You could see yourself coming here again…

[cafecliche]

fic writer meme!

[RISES FROM THE DEPTHS] I'm here!! Thank you so much @uhuraisgay and @englishsub for the tags, and also for reminding me that I've missed Tumblr

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 50 even - which was more than I thought!

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount? 187,448

3. what fandoms do you write for?

My fic-writing impulses come along like cicada seasons, except without any regularity whatsoever: I do a lot of dabbling in a lot of fandoms, I can never really tell if something's going to light my brain on fire. Most of my fic output came from Yuletide for a long while (I loved the grab bag aspect and writing little treats for small fandoms, but then my holidays got busier), and then Yuri on Ice and MDZS were my biggest fandoms by far, especially MDZS. I've written Yuwu recently, and I'd love to write some Trigun, LoZ, or Mysterious Lotus Casebook one of these days.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

grow

the only way out

The Guests of Cloud Recesses

detente

bespoke

And the soft animal is our runner-up at #6!

5. do you respond to comments?

I usually don't unless it's a request or a question, but I read and treasure every one.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I am too tender for Bad Endings for the most part, but my canon-verse Nie Huaisang fic after me comes the flood does not end in a particularly good place for anyone involved. (But even then, we know it gets better for him eventually... albeit at the expense of several bystanders)

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I tend to write pretty gentle, occasionally LIGHTLY bittersweet happy endings (that's the cafecliche guarantee baby) but part of me wants to say 'the only way out' (and probably 'the yunmeng accords' series in general) here. I tend to write fic when I want to play around with the emotions or relationship dynamics that can already be found in canon, so 'the yunmeng accords' is probably as close to a fix-it as I'm going to get.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Not usually! I was part of the Great MDZS Anon Hate Train of 2021, but that was the worst I've ever gotten by several magnitudes - the vast majority of commenters are fabulous.

9. do you write smut?

Not yet! It's not off the table, though.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

I actually don't think I've ever written a crossover! The closest I've ever gotten was when I look over my shoulder, but even that's 'Wangxian in a Conjuring-esque ghosthunters in love situation' and not really a formal Conjuring AU.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had plagiarism brought to my attention a couple times, but truly just a handful. I still remember getting a message on FF.net that someone had ripped off a line from my Black Lagoon fic. The SCANDAL of it all.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

MDZS is the first fandom where I've gotten translation requests, which is always so cool! To my knowledge, I've had fics translated into Russian, Spanish, and Ukranian.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but brainstorming fic concepts with my brilliant friends is one of my favorite thing in the world.

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

omg ever? Well Victuuri and Wangxian have been the ones that really lit my brain on fire (if I own the Nendos, it's serious) but let me also throw it back to Fakir and Ahiru in Princess Tutu. That is ROMANCE.

15. what is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would have really liked to have one more entry to 'the yunmeng accords!' I had a couple of ideas that I really liked, but nothing that caught fire quite enough to dive into it. That said, I am currently working on something short and Yunmeng Shuangjie-related, at the very least...

16. what are your writing strengths?

Emotional through-lines, pacing, and that sweet, sweet catharsis. I'm drawn to particular fandoms when they leave me with an emotion that I need to break down over the course of several thousand words, and I know that shows through in my writing.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Choreography! I'm not a very visual thinker, so sometimes it takes me a while just to figure out how to block the characters in a given scene. I also have a lot of trouble getting into a draft until I figure out the voice, which, when it comes to fanfic, will either come to me extremely easily or not at all.

18. thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

Yeah, absolutely! (But if you don't speak the language, do your research!)

19. first fandom you wrote for?

[rubs my temples] an X-Men crackfic.

20. favorite fic you have written?

Oh my god. WELL. 'grow' and 'the only way out' I think are the best fics I've written, and 'when I look over my shoulder' and 'the soft animal' are also extremely close to my heart. But 'detente' might be the favorite child. It just gushed out of me.

I think a great many of you have been tagged at this point, so sorry for any double-tags, but: @bluecrystalrainingdaggers @tigerjpg @floofyfluff @vinelark and anyone else who'd like to go for it!

[sophisticatedyet]

if anyone's having a bad day, let me run you through what just happened to me. (content warning for rotten food.)

so, it's 1pm and I'm experiencing a wave of work-related procrastination that's enabling me to get chores done around the house, like empty the food waste bin in the kitchen into the bigger bin outside.

because it's been about a week since I last took the bins out, the food at the bottom has been in there long enough to rot causing the compostable bag its in to also start decomposing. no biggie, it happens: I grab another compostable bag, tip the bin on its head to avoid touching the icky rotting food, chuck a couple of very old bananas from the fruit bowl on the top, tie it off, and throw it in the outside food bin. great job me!

a little while later, I go to reassemble the kitchen bin and the lid's... not... there? it's not anywhere in the kitchen? the answer to the mystery where this lid has gone immediately presents itself to me, but I reject it and do another look, until I can't deny the obvious, and go check the outside bin.

to set the scene: it's a really nice, sunny day today. it feels like the first proper day of spring we've had all year. wildlife abounds: there are butterflies feeding on the cherry blossoms, the fish in the pond have come out for the first time since autumn. the bin is made of brown plastic that's warmed nicely in the afternoon rays. there's a little cloud of flies buzzing around me as I approach.

I open the bin and there, straining against the bags, is a corner of the lid.

there's nothing for it at this point, I'm not buying a whole new food bin because of my stupidity, so I rip open the first bag, BUT remember how I cleverly double-bagged the waste to avoid having to touch icky food? oh-hoho. I hate myself.

but fine. whatever. I rip open the next layer, like I'm playing the world's worst game of pass the parcel. this layer has been marinating in bin juices long enough to revert to a texture that's difficult to describe, but it's how I imagine an organ feels to the touch: slippery and wet and hot. at least it falls apart quite easily (along with my mental state).

I grab what I can of the lid and try to pull it out, but it only slides a few centimetres before jamming to a halt on the three rotting bananas that I added to the pile at the last moment. I try to wiggle them out the way but they aren't budging so I pinch one between my thumb and index finger. It's old enough that the skin slides away immediately, and my fingers sink into the meat of the banana. THIS is an easier texture to describe: it feels like warm snot. (I am reflexively crying at this point.) still, now that the skin it out the way, I can force the lid through the mucus. i have to repeat this process two more times before finally, the lid is free. (there's something on my finger, and I genuinely don't know if it's a grain of rice or a maggot.)

the saga's not entirely done, though, because the refuse collectors in my area don't take your food waste if it's not bagged, and I now have a bin full of scraps of plastic and a heap of rotten food. I use some egg shells to scoop up what i can and throw them into the gaping hole at the top of the bag and then it's I'm done.

obviously, I immediately run inside and start scrubbing my hands. something weird is happening, though: there are these spot of brown-and-yellow that just. won't. come. off. it's literally like I've super-glued rotting food to my hands?????

...I turn to look at the table.

...at the superglue I had been using thirty minutes earlier to fix a clasp on a broken box.

i am beyond tears at this point: the whole situation has gone past through horrifying into an absurdity so profound I must be dreaming.

I eventually scratch off the super-glued rotten food from my fingers (I don't know how long it takes me because I have detached myself from reality) and then wash my hands another hundred times before finally sitting back down at my computer because it's 2pm and a work day. I read half an email, before I'm interrupted by a strange noise that sounds like a gentle trickle of water. I turn around and my cat is in her litter box, butt positioned just on the edge, pissing directly onto the floor.

[alexislifesblog]

Will you be my muse? Nanami x Y/n

Part one 630 words

Author note : Hey guys :), its my first time posting any sort of writing so bear with me . I wanted this to be a slow burn so buckle up !! Let me know if you want other people from any fandom bc i watch everything like obx and regular shows . DONT COPY !!!!! ‘’Can you be my muse? ‘’ His POV  She is like a star, in many ways. She lights up the room with only her voice. Her harmonic voice slid off her tongue with ease. Her voice always came off matter-factly, making everyone quiet down and listen. It was like she spoke a different language from the rest of the world. One derived by kings and queens. Her effortless fashion made her stand out. Her curly hair was always in a formation that made it seem like she woke up. And the worst part of it all was that I did not even know her name. My heart yearned for her. My head tense up at just a mere look at her. She was tantalizing but also a stranger. I know we have mutual friends but still. I look at her from a distance, admiring her from afar. Wondering what we could be if I had come up to her. I snap out of my trance as I realize she is coming my way  Her POV  Study Study Study. That has been on my mind all week due to finals for all my upcoming classes. I walk into the lecture hall. The sound of my heels clicking on the ground draws everyone to look at me. I spot the face of a new student. My friends told me that his name is Kento Nanami, the name has been rushing in and out of my head all week long when I should be focusing on school... You know, the stuff that matters. As I walk down the aisle my eyes continue to zero in on him. His perfect hazel eyes and neat sleek hair with a bang are getting in the way of his vision. Cute… Why not just come up and sit next to him? What's the worst that could happen?  ‘’ Hey, may I sit here? Some guys stole my seat “‘ I say while pouting my glossy bottom lip. My gel nails tapping at the seat right next to him. ‘’ Yea sure ‘’ His voice had a husky timbre. One reminiscent of waves crashing into rocks.  ‘’ So…. What's your name? ‘’ I ask a question that I already know the answer to.  ‘’ My name is Kento Nanami . What's your name ?‘’ He says with a kind smile that instantly makes my heart warm. The sun from the window pours into his eyes. His hints of green and orange remind me of a woodsy forest. I fall into them and it seems like I have known him for an eternity… ‘’My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you Kento! ‘’ I beamed while reaching out my hand. As we shake hands I feel his callus ones rub mine. The electricity from our palms teased my brain. My heart beckons to know more about this mysterious man. I need to know him. I cannot go on with my life until we become more. I walk around the desk to sit. Putting everything on my desk. Camera, Notebook, Air pods, Lipgloss. I aggressively dump my whole bag onto my desk. I forgot one of the most important items. I forgot my pencil case. ‘’ Im a dumbass ‘’ I say under my breath.  I hear someone snicker on teh right side of me. I see the boy smirking at me trying to hold in a laugh.  ‘’I'm sorry is this funny to you .?!’’  “‘ Kinda..Why don’t you just have one of mine  “‘  ‘’ OMG! Thanks, you are  a lifesaver ‘’  He hands me one of his perfectly sharpened pencils. ‘’Any time, you can keep it ‘’  I quickly grab the pencil and sit down in my seat as I realize my photography professor has walked into the classroom.  RING RING RING  Class has started

STAY TUNED FOR NEXT ONEE

[mark-of-chrysus]

Danny is in a genderbend loop again, but born in Japan also in a yakuza family that is well known underground fighter (basically like Kure clan in Kengan Asura)

And Danny being well known fighter underground, and Gun basically sends gifts as a proposal.

[ i should probably be doing my homework, but fuck it, here's another one-shot about Gun being a simp and Danny being done with life until Rapunzel's long-lost twin saves the day. Enjoy!]

Being a woman never gets easier, Danny sighed wrapping bandages over her chest. She was headed into the ring any minute now and needed to be prepared.

Japan was different than Korea, and she found herself often blindsided, despite apparently knowing the language. Oh, and she was also part of some super important and huge crime family? Yey.

Her biggest problem currently, however, was another thing: Gun. As usual, he was the root of her perpetual annoyance, by being not only a menace but an utter simp.

"You beat a guy into the hospital once-" She bemoaned quietly before the sound of a gong announced her entrance.

She stepped into the arena with a blank face and her chin held things, not once faltering in her pace. Her opponent, a mountain of a man with several years of fighting under his belt and numerous prizes was waiting with an equally somber look. He knew who she was, and he knew that he had no way of winning, but for the sake of his pride and probably his life, he had to try. The cheers were deafening. Behind a pair of shades, black eyes pierced her skin like burning daggers.

Boohoo~ Jay, my beloved, quickly come save me! she wailed in her mind while suppressing a shiver. Why did she have the worst luck in the world?! Danny shook such thoughts off and tried to concentrate on the fight, but she couldn't. Her mind drifted back to the quiet evening she had spent in her lover's arms before the loop had so cruelly ripped her from his embrace.

The sound of the gong snapped her from her thoughts. Before her laid the fallen body of her opponent, badly injured, but alive. Danny tuned out the voice of the commentator echoing through the arena with a bored look. In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair, but when she turned her head it was gone.

The girl was just packing her stuff to leave when she once again saw that flash of blonde going down the corridor. Quickly hoisting the duffle bag over her shoulder she hurried out of the locker room and sprinted down the hall. As she turned the corner she ran straight into someone and ended up sprawled all over the floor. Before she could regain he bearings, someone extended their hand to her to help her up. Oh, fuck me sideways!

Gun stared down at the girl with a polite smile, waiting for her to grab his hand so he could hoist her up. That didn't happen. Instead, the little spitfire got up herself and proceeded to book it past him without another word.

She had intrigued him from the moment he had first seen her fighting a few months ago. The girl was young but skilled beyond her years. She was quick on her feet and her hits spared no power, but she could still dish them out for hours without even breaking a sweat (he'd seen her do it in one match). There was just something so intoxicating about how she could turn her body into a weapon without even blinking and take out people three times her size like they were made out of straw.

Gun was determined to have such a masterpiece at any cost.

Danny was sulking. She had lost the mystery blond somewhere in the maze of corridors. A part of her yelled that that might've been her Jay and that she had just lost her chance, but the rational part reminded her that the blonde was in Korea, far away from her. She had done some digging and discovered that her brilliant beloved was an aspiring poet in this loop, which didn't surprise her that much. Her hubby had always been a sensible soul. It did however make her heart ache to know that their paths would probably never cross this time. I mean, I'm an underground fighter, and he writes poetry, she despaired mentally.

Another day, another fight. The routine was starting to grate on her nerves.

Another thing that bugged her endlessly was that the black-eyed maniac had apparently taken an interest in her, again. He kept sending her gifts and whatnot every day. Her parents (some random extras she had never met before) were ecstatic that such a highly regarded and respected man wanted to have their daughter, and kept trying to convince her to accept his proposal. She vehemently refused and threatened to burn down the whole house if they kept insisting. That got them to back off for a while.

Gun upped his game. Not only did he start bribing her extended family with gifts, but he also somehow go invited to the birthday celebration of the head of their family, Masashi Park.

If Danny was irked before now she was downright fuming. Every member of their clan had to attend this celebration unless they were pregnant and repairing to give birth or on their deathbed. There was no way for her to get out of attending.

"Gods willing I die before then." She cursed under her breath when her maid announced the news.

She shooed the confused maid and rolled into her covers, clutching a pillow to her chest. It was moments like these that she craved to be back in her lover's warm embrace, away from all the maniacs and bastards who sought to disturb their peace. Oh what she wouldn't give to-

"Would you stop throwing pebbles at my window, I'm trying to have a tearful inner monologue here!"

She stomped her way to the window and opened it. Before she could shout some more a small rock hit her right in the forehead. The fighting prodigy went down with an 'oof' bested by a flying pebble. She got up again, ready to give her attacker a piece of her mind before her eyes landed on that familiar mop of blond hair and all of her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

There in all his glory, like a prince come out of a fairytale to save his beloved, was her darling Jay. He waved at her, smiling shyly. Bewildered, Danny slipped through the window, landing on the grass silently (assassin skills for the win!).

"How?" The words came out before she could stop them.

Jay shrugged.

"You don't know?"

Nod.

"Then-?"

"Huh, you felt like you knew me? And you had a feeling I needed help?"

The conversation, although one-sided, brought tears of gratitude to her eyes. At first, Jay panicked seeing her cry but quickly calmed down when she explained the situation and held her as she let all of her piled frustrations out. He didn't let go when his shirt got so wet it stuck to his skin, just sat and listened to her ranting while drawing small circles on her back. He didn't ask her anything, as if he already knew everything he needed to. Her darling always had a knack for knowing things he shouldn't and she couldn't be more thankful for it now.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Korea?" Danny asked after she had finally calmed down a bit.

The two had moved to an area further away from her home, on a little hill overseeing the city. She was laying on his chest, their legs entangled over one another, his arms planted firmly around her smaller body like an anchor while she played with his fingers.

"Oh? You're here with your father who's on a business trip? That's-" she yawned "-really great."

Danny snuggled deeper into the warmth, trying to turn away from the blasted light that wouldn't let her sleep. Wait, light? She groggily opened her eyes to see the sun climbing over the horizon. The girl gasped, waking Jay up as well. The two shared a quick hug and she gave him a light peck on the cheek before they parted ways with promises to meet again as soon as possible.

When the servants saw their young miss practically skipping into the house they pinched themselves to check if they were still asleep. The young beauty who had been so morose and silent these past few days had a lovely smile painted on her face and her cheeks were the color of roses. She looked like a blooming flower and was gently humming a tune to herself. (Near, far, wherever you are~) [I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself! ]

Danny just ignored all of them and headed to her room, content to have her dearest once again by her side.

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

The day of the celebration came and with it the family drama and gossip. Who married who? Who killed who? The usual. And, of course, the news of the young raven-haired master of a good family courting the cold and skilled young miss of the 5th branch.

The girl in question listened to them spread the most ludicrous of ideas around, such as her being pregnant by Gun (the fuck?), and wanted to gag. Old people with little to do had the wildest imaginations!

And as if that wasn't already enough, right then the star of the show decided to make his appearance. Danny took a deep breath, mentally repeating a mantra about calm and patience. It wouldn't do to sully her new dress with his blood. Besides, they weren't allowed to kill or mutilate someone during the patriarch's birthday, lest they wish to face his wrath. And no one wanted to go toe to toe with that crazy old geezer!

To her momentary relief, Gun didn't approach her for the entire celebration, until the banquet.

Danny tried not to bite into her chopsticks as she cursed whatever bastard had been in charge of the seating arrangement for at least twenty generations to come. Why did it seem like their seats were purposefully placed closer to each other?! Patience, patience, patience, the girl repeated, trying to restrain herself from elbowing the shameless bastard whose sleeve kept brushing her side 'accidentally'. He would soon 'accidentally' end up with one less arm!

When the time came to toast, Old Masashi got up with his cup raised, prepared to give his speech.

"I wish to first and foremost apologize to all of you."

Murmurs ran through the dining hall as people became uneasy. The old man wasn't known as a loose canon for nothing. The room was once again reduced to silence through a single look from the patriarch.

"I have invited a guest to my celebration at the last minute. Due to my lack of foresight, I am afraid he's running a bit late. Nevertheless, I wish to introduce you to him."

The double doors engraved with tigers were opened by two servants. The guest walked in with elegant, deliberate steps, like a man merely taking a stroll through a shop, not entering the headquarters of one of the most feared clans in Japan. The hall waited with bated breath as he made his way to the old master, who hugged him like a friend and once again turned to address the crowd.

"This is Jay Hong, the son of a dear friend of mine and-" he threw a sharp look across the hall, his eyes settling on Danny "my future grandson-in-law!"

Everyone turned to look at the frozen girl, then back at the old master. Then again, at her and at Masashi, and finally at the blonde on his right.

Tick. Tock. Tick-

The hall burst into chaos.

[tsukimefuku]

❅ Sand and Snow | Chapter 6

ALL CHAPTERS HERE | PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE.

In the city of Odate, Akita, there have been multiple deaths in the past few weeks. The first-grade sorcerer Nanami Kento is sent out to investigate the snowy city, not knowing that it would be his last mission as a Jujutsu High student.

OR

Why Nanami left Jujutsu High to become a 9/5 corporate slave.

Tags: Murder/mystery, canon typical violence, POV Nanami, Post Star-plasma Vessel Arc, Canon compliant, Angst but I'm not Gege

Gojo Satoru is still a little shit and we love him. They have an unexpected visitor.

WC: 2.3 K | on AO3 here.

They were all cramped up inside Yoko's car — Shiori, Miyuki and Nanami were in the backseat. Meanwhile, Gojo was comfortably put in the front seat, being the tallest one from the bunch, flipping cheerfully through the radio.

"How's everyone back there?" He asked, grinning widely, trying to pick a station. "The view from here is great!"

"Like canned fish." Nanami replied grunting, with his face nearly latched onto the side window.

“Hah. Funny.” Shiori replied, sarcastically. “You know, on second thought, we could've walked.” She said, as she was completely pressed in between Miyuki and Nanami. Since Shiori was the second-shortest person of the entourage aside from Yoko, they told her to ride in the middle. It was extremely uncomfortable, and she was starting to lose feeling in her legs.

"No way, you would've been walking for hours!" Yoko answered. "Also, you would be carrying groceries, and they're heavy!"

"You do live in the middle of nowhere." Nanami noted, matter-of-factly. 

"How come you only have a sense of humor at the worst possible moments?" Shiori scoffed. "At least walking, I would be able to move. Or breathe." She tried adjusting her sitting position, but Nanami and Miyuki wouldn't budge at all and hissed in protest when she did.

"Stop being so overly dramatic, we're almost there." Yoko answered, smiling without a care in the world.

After talking to Miyuki, they all decided the best course of action would be going to Shiori's house in order to plan their next steps. Before they left, Shiori explained, a little ashamed, that she had absolutely no food in her house, to which her aunt promptly put many things she had in her fridge and pantry inside some bags. Gojo called them, informing Ayako had been taken to the hospital, and Shiori called Yoko, asking for a ride for them and Gojo as well. They had been in the car for 15 minutes that surely felt like an hour had gone by.

Around 10 minutes later, they arrived at the house, and as soon as the car stopped, Miyuki opened her door, throwing herself out of the little metal box and onto the free space filled with snow — or at least it felt like it. Shiori promptly followed suit, jumping out of the car like a prisoner that had just rediscovered freedom, and Nanami got out from his side of the back seat, inhaling deeply out of relief as he did. All three of them began stretching, and muttering thank God.

Gojo came out of the passenger seat and smiled, saying, "nice ride, huh?"

Shiori, Miyuki and Nanami looked at him with murderous intent. 

"It definitely was! The sunset was beautiful!" Yoko answered, closing her door, completely clueless. They also glared at her. "What? What did I say?"

"Let's just get going. Please, open the trunk." Miyuki said, to which Yoko immediately did. She grabbed the bags with groceries and gave some of them to Gojo for him to carry. "Here you go." Miyuki sighed as she turned towards the house, being flooded with memories. "Wow. I haven't been here for such a long time. It hasn't changed."

"Yes. It hasn't." Shiori answered. "And you haven't." She stated, with clear resentment in her voice. Miyuki said nothing and started walking towards the house.

"Well, I guess this is it!" Yoko said. "I have to go back home to do some chores."

"Thank you for the ride." Nanami told her as he bowed.

"Oh, someone with manners! And you're all welcome." She replied, bowing back.

"Drive safe, okay?" Shiori said as she hugged Yoko, before Yoko got in her car and left.

***

"So... We just sit here and wait for the guy to come for us? That's it?" Shiori asked. They were all seated in the living room sipping tea as the food was on the stove, except for Gojo, who was on the ceiling guarding the house. Miyuki was preparing some curry for all of them.

Gojo could see some smoke far away from them, as it seemed like something might've been burning in the distance.

"Precisely." Nanami replied. "We already know he is after the keys for opening the veil realm. All we really need to do is wait for him to come get yours, then we ambush him."

Miyuki thought to herself for a moment. "Something is wrong, though."

"What?" Nanami asked.

"This house kind of used to be the HQ for the Yamadas. Why didn't Shogo come here in the first place? He must've known it was possible that Itsuki had left her key with her children." She said. They all pondered on the question for a moment, but no one could actually come up with an answer to that.

"While we don't know why he didn't come here first, he won't have a choice now." Nanami concluded. "Shogo seems really keen to recover every key, so with that in mind, logically, this should be his last destination."

"I guess." Shiori answered. "Well, then let's take turns watching the house and sleep down here."

"Yes. Let's do that." Miyuki answered. 

Miyuki got up and walked towards the kitchen to check upon the food. Shiori laid down there on the couch, and sighed deeply.

"Hey, Nanami." She said, looking at the wall.

"What?" He asked, putting his tea cup away.

"Do you think we will be able to finally finish this in the next few days, once and for all?" Shiori asked.

"That would be the preferred outcome." Nanami replied while crossing his arms.

She seemed worried and quiet, which was somewhat out of character for her. "Your thinking is not very silent. What is it?" He asked.

"Well, my brother is still missing." Shiori closed her eyes and sighed. "You guys were my Hail Mary attempt at finding him, but if we stop Shogo now, I mean-"

"We will still help you." Nanami responded. She immediately opened her eyes and sat on the couch from her laying down position, looking at him with her eyes wide open, trying to figure out if she really heard what she thought she had heard. He then proceeded, "We agreed to assist you in finding your brother. Of course, we will first take Shogo to Tokyo, but given that your brother's disappearance may have something to do with cursed activity, it is not out of our reach looking into his disappearance."

She was at a complete loss for words and remained quiet for a few seconds.

Her whole life, Shiori could never count on anyone but her brother and Yoko — her parents abandoned her without a note, and relatives simply left them at that huge house to fend for themselves, even if one single aunt helped them financially. And now this person, who owed her nothing, was here committed to helping her find Shiro. 

"You have no idea what that means to me. Thank you." Shiori said in a choked voice.

"This is simply my job." Nanami answered, matter-of-factly, as he reclined in his chair. She smiled.

"Sure." Shiori said. They were both silent for a while, with only Miyuki's pots and cutlery filling the sound in the room. Shiori then started to speak again. "Nanami, you're a good and decent person." She lifted her finger before he could say anything. "Just take the compliment."

She wasn't sure, but he seemed to have the corners of his mouth curving upwards, forming a miniscule smile as he looked away.

Suddenly, they heard a thump outside, and immediately looked through the window, seeing Gojo had descended from the ceiling and vanished right before their eyes, going in the woods' direction. Shiori and Miyuki started to go towards the door, but Nanami told them to stay inside as he left the house with his blunt blade, and ran after Gojo. 

He started to make his way through the trees and snow. It was particularly cold, and the forest seemed the same all over, with not that many landmarks to guide him. Nanami was mainly following Gojo's cursed energy trail as fast as he could, but Gojo was much faster than him. After about 2 minutes running in the forest, Nanami got to where Gojo was standing.

In front of them stood a young man with black hair and green eyes that looked a lot like Shiori, and was completely covered in ashes. Furthermore, he had no coat on, his clothes were completely battered, and his shoes were just about to give in. He was shivering, holding his own arms against his chest, his lips starting to turn blue.

"What is your name?" Nanami asked.

"I need to come back..." The man answered in a hoarse voice. He was completely out of it, with his eyes barely open, wobbling from one side to the other. He seemed exhausted and ready to fall at any given moment. "Home. I need to come home."

"He did not answer any of my questions." Gojo told Nanami. "I felt his cursed energy approaching the house and thought he might be our culprit, but it doesn't seem like he is the one. He looks too young for that."

"My sister." The man's eyes widened. "Where is my sister?" He yelled.

Before asking him who his sister was, Nanami and Gojo realized it at the same time.

"Shiro, is that you?" Nanami asked.

The man looked at him. "How do you know my-" before he could finish his phrase, Shiro fainted. Well, this is an unexpected coincidence, Nanami thought to himself, staring surprised at the man stretched on the ground.

"Help me here." Nanami said as he was lifting Shiro up. Gojo grabbed the man and threw him over his shoulder.

"Tsk. The lady is a majo, after all." He grinned. "She definitely foretold the future there. Nobody expected this guy to come back except for her." Gojo said jokingly.

Nanami sighed. “It is not appropriate to joke about that right now, Gojo."

Gojo chuckled. "Who said I'm joking?" After that, they made their way back to the house.

When Nanami and Gojo entered the house carrying her brother, a knot immediately formed in Shiori's stomach. Yet, she promptly got a hold of her nerves — otherwise, she'd hyperventilate — and asked them to lay him over the table. At the present moment, she and Miyuki were assessing him to see if he had any sort of trauma that would require medical attention. Shiro didn't seem to have any sort of visible injuries other than a bump behind his head, but was still unconscious and cold. 

Meanwhile, Gojo and Nanami were seated in another room having a conversation.

"So, what do you think about his sudden reappearance?" Nanami asked Gojo.

"This is definitely suspicious." Gojo responded. Nanami felt the same way. "I mean, it can't just be a coincidence, right? The man appeared exactly after we brought the two last targets to this house."

"It feels off for me, too." Nanami concluded.

"But how do we question her brother as a suspect without the situation going south?" Gojo said. From his conversations with her, he learned she was very protective of her brother, so if they posed any sort of harm to him, Shiori would probably try to fight back. Even though they would easily win, Gojo and Nanami didn't want to fight her at all if they could avoid it.

"We don't. Not right now. We'll have to at least wait for him to wake up, anyway." Nanami replied. "But I don't think we'll get to avert that conflict for long."

Satoru sighed. "You're probably right." he said, as they both glanced at Shiori and Miyuki. The women had cut his shirt open and were using a damp, warm cloth to clean Shiro of the ashes that were covering his body. Besides the ashes, his face and nearly every inch of his body was completely covered in grime and dirt. His shoes were ready to pop the soles, his pants did nothing to protect him from the cold, and he was in bad shape overall. They had to use warm water on him to bring his temperature back up slowly, because Shiro was ice-cold when Gojo and Nanami brought him in.

After they were finished cleaning him, at least superficially, Shiori put her cloth aside and sat on a chair, approaching Shiro's face.

"Hey, Shiro. Please, wake up." She said in a deeply worried tone. There was no answer. Shiori then put her hands on his face and tried not to panic. "Please, wake up. I beg of you." Her voice was but a whisper.

She then put her forehead right beside his, on the table, holding back the urge to cry. Shiori didn't know if she would actually cry, hurl, faint, or all of the above if she let herself go. There was not much they could do right now other than sit and wait.

"What did he say when you found him?" She asked suddenly, in a loud tone, slightly surprising everyone in the room.

"Not much. He seemed delirious." Nanami answered.

"He was looking for you." Gojo added.

That statement pulled on her heartstrings and made her chest ache.

"Shiro, for fuck's sake, you cannot die the minute you come back home. That would be ridiculous, and I'll kill you myself if you die a stupid death like that." Shiori said, her voice a mixture of anger, banter, and longing. "Please, chipmunk. Wake up." From her voice, she was just about to start bawling right there.

"H-Hey." a coarse male voice filled the room.

 Everyone looked toward Shiro. Shiori's eyes immediately lit up, as she could hear his raspy and tired voice say, "hey, weasel. Long time no see." She smiled widely as he put his hand on her cheek and asked, "is there any water? I'm extremely thirsty."

[pretendicanwrite]

Bonfire

Fic-o-ween Day 4

Bonfire

All character credit goes to @lumosinlove

Prompt credit goes to @noots-fic-fests

The song is all of me by John Legend

**********

Finn was sitting in front of Logan, staring into the flame of the bonfire. He had a beer in his hand, watching as the rest of the team played on the shore of the lake, or in the water.

“Do you think Leo would marry us if we asked? He’s so young, and I want him to enjoy his youth, but at the same time, he’s nineteen, got drafted right out of college, and plays a professional sport thousands of miles away from his family.

“I don’t know. I think somehow, he would always say yes. We didn’t work in college because we didn’t have him, but now, we do, and he makes us so happy. Should we wait, probably, but at some point, we have to realize that he’s not a little kid. If he wanted to enjoy his youth a little longer, I feel like he would say no, but he seems happy.” Finn smiled up at Logan, and Logan leaned down to give him a soft peck on the lips. 

“I just want to give him his ring.”

“I know baby, me too.”

“I brought it with me.” Finn reached for the bag he had kept on his person all day. It contained a journal, a pen, the ring, and a guitar pick. He handed the ring box to Logan and grabbed the guitar pick.

He reached over to the guitar he had previously discarded, picked up, and started playing a simple tune.

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding

I can't pin you down

What's going on in that beautiful mind

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me

But I'll be alright

Finn had a shockingly good voice. After yelling so much for his job, it gained a rasp that added so much depth to the song.

My head’s underwater

But I’m breathing fine

You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind

‘Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning 

Even when I lose I’m winning

The team had started to gather around Finn. His eyes were closed, and he was gradually getting more comfortable with singing and playing. 

‘Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh oh

How many times do I have to tell you? 

Even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too

The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood

You’re my downfall, you’re my muse

My worst distraction, my rhythm, and blues

I can’t stop singing, it’s ringing, in my head

My head’s underwater

But I’m breathing fine

You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind

‘Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I’m winning

‘Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh oh

Give me all of you

Cards on the table, we’re both showing hearts

Risking it all, though it’s hard

‘Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I’m winning

‘Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you

I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh oh

At the end of the song, Logan handed the box to Finn, knowing that this was the perfect moment. They were surrounded by their family, and Leo was smiling so hard that it looked like his cheeks were going to break.

Finn set the guitar down, and moved to his knees, setting one foot on the ground. Logan moved to join him a second later.

The team was smiling like they knew all along, and Leo looked confused, but his smile never dropped or faded. 

 “Leo Knut, ever since we met you on your first day on the team, somehow we were drawn to you. Immediately, you meant everything to us, and now, we can’t imagine our lives without you. The first time I hugged you, it was like your arms were made to fit around me. The first time I saw you in my kitchen, it was like you had lived there your whole life. From the first moment, you just fit. You fit into our lives, our homes, and our family.” Finn’s voice was cracking, as he gave his impromptu speech.

“I can’t imagine where we would be right now without you. Finn and I would never have worked without you. You brought us back together, and you continue to hold all of us together. So, Leo Knut, Will you marry us?”

Leo had tears dripping down his face as he rapidly nodded, grabbing both of his boys' hands, He hauled them to their feet, wrapping an arm around each of them, alternating whose forehead he gave a kiss. “Yes.” he whispered.

The team let out a collective cheer and moved to wrap all of them in a hug.

“We’re having a wedding!” James shouted, squeezing them harder. “I love love!”

**********

Fluffy fluff.

I think we all need it after day 2's work...

[dravid-writes]

I take a step forward, and the hunters step back. Blood drips from my bone blade and from the cut on one of their arms. "Well? What are you waiting for? Save the world." I grin. "Kill me."

Another step forward. Another step back.

"It'd be such a shame if you came all the way out here for nothing. May as well make sure that SOMEONE dies tonight..."

"Oh my GOD you're such an edgelord."

Who- My eyes flick left and right, looking for source of the voice. The hunters look even more surprised than me. Before I can decide whether to stand my ground or make distance, a marowak steps out from the brush. With the threat in plain sight now, I regain my balance, brandishing my blade. "Oh? And who's this, a hero... or a martyr~?"

They groan, throwing off my balance yet again. "Just shut up, I'm going to die of second-hand embarrassment before that pocketknife of yours even touches me." Then, the marowak turns away from me without a care in the world. "You two, get out of here. I've got this."

"B-but-"

"Go, it'll be harder to fight with a pair of walking targets nearby."

As quietly as I can, I leap toward the marowak, thrusting my blade-

*BONK*

They throw their bone club behind them, knocking me out of the air without looking. "I've got this. Leave."

The hunters run off, and I scramble to grab my blade and back up to a safe distance. "... You're good. I've been waiting for a decent challenge."

The marowak turns back toward me. "I know it won't matter, but I feel like it's only fair to tell you that I'm not here to capture or kill you. So. Easy way, or hard way?"

"I've got about as much trust in that as I do white on my blade's edge."

Marowak smiles. "Okay, that one was pretty good." They kick their club into the air and grab it. "Hard way it is."

The fight is hopeless. Every attack I throw at them, they see it coming and respond with a perfect dodge or counter strike. Blow after blow leaves me aching and breathless, until I need to stop and make distance to recover. I've fought opponents stronger than me before, but never one more skilled. An expert fighter, and with the advantage of evolution... I think I need to retreat-

As if sensing my intent, Marowak chooses that moment to make an attack of their own, rushing in with a swing! I duck under it, but it was a feint; the real attack is a kick that slams directly into my face. I try to scramble away, but they grab me by the ankle and swing me overhead, slamming me onto the ground, then finishing with a stomp to the gut that knocks the wind out of me.

Gasping and worn out with my blade flung off somewhere, I stare up aimlessly as Marowak looks me over. "Ah shit, think I got too rough. Hang on." They rummage around in their bag and pull out an oran berry, considering it for a moment before splitting it in half. They bend down and raise my limp head, putting half in my mouth and moving my jaw to make me chew.

Once it starts kicking in, I weakly push them away and finish it myself. I wince at my numerous remaining aches. "Half... Really..?"

Marowak drags me to my feet. "The bruises will keep you pacified. You've been through worse. And let's be real, physical pain is far from the worst thing you're feeling."

"What, you think I'm, ngh, mad that I lost to you?"

"Not at me, but you're mad alright. And plenty of other things too. Thinking the world's going to end tends to do that to people."

This idiot... Just another hero out to get rid of the human and save the world... "The world IS going to end. You, me, everyone, we're all going to die, and there's nothing anyone can-"

Marowak grabs me! They get me in a bearhug and- No, wait... This is just... a hug..? "It can get better. I know it doesn't feel like it, I know how hopeless it all feels, but it can get better."

"What... What are you talking about? WHAT can get better? Because my life sure as hell can't! I'm a fugitive! Everyone wants me dead!"

"That would be a problem, if you were wanted for a crime you actually committed." What. "It CAN get better. You CAN find a way to prove your innocence. There IS a way to restore the world's balance. It's not hopeless."

"How do you know that? How do you know any of that!? And- And there's nothing that I can do to save the world! I TRIED! I'm just some stupid human that got caught in the middle of all this b-bullshit, that I d-didn't deserve..."

"I know. Fate played one cruel joke on you. None of this is fair. You didn't deserve any of this."

"I j-just... I don't want to die, I don't want anyone to die! I was so happy, and then... a-and then..." I'm not sure when I started crying, but now, I start sobbing. "WHY!? Why is this ha-happening to me!? Why d-do I keep losing people!? Compass... Rose... Why did you leave me all alone..."

I whine and whimper and sob and sniffle in the embrace of the marowak. They hold me steady and rub my back as I cry my heart out onto them. Eventually, they shoved the other half of the berry into my mouth, and I started returning the hug. I don't remember which happened first.

As my tears start running dry, they pick me up and carry me somewhere dark. I cling to them, the only nonviolent touch I've felt in weeks, until I finally fall asleep...

... And then, for the first time in weeks, instead of a nightmare, I have a dream.

[thewriteflame]

Find the Word

As always thank you @megarywrites for the tag!

Leaving open tag and soft tagging: @oh-no-another-idea @theunboundwriter @violets-in-her-arms-writes Your words alter, beautiful, care, dark, energy

My words: near, necessary, need, never, and news

from And They Were Roommates:

necessary

Nim glowered at Jayme’s phone as he lowered it from his ear, his face downcast. “See, he hates us,” She said, deciding that Jayme’s flinch was a necessary evil if it would prevent him from becoming further attached to his roommate. His roommate who was infuriatingly handsome. She tried and tried again to stop dwelling on Jayme’s expression when the man had walked through the door and scowled at them. She was the one who has been by his side since they were five. They went through puberty together, planned to build a business together… made it past the worst kind of pain together. She grabbed onto his hand to push her panic away. Calmed at the steady beat she felt in his wrist. Jayme was better now. They were better now. No one would take him away from her.

The Revenged:

need

She balked, cheeks growing warm. “I could do it!” “How Shuntala?” Ka’il’s eyebrow rose. “He won’t exactly invite you to season his food with mysterious seasoning you happened to conjure out of nowhere and I doubt you could over-power him as you are.” “I’ll,” Shuntala balled her hands into fists, “I’ll trick him.” Ka’il snorted, “I know he seems as smart as a stump but I assure you he will not be easy to trick.” “You can distract him while I mix it in his wine?” She suggested, desperately grasping at whichever plan or argument came to mind. All she needed was the small black jar. If she could convince him… “I’m sorry, Shuntala, but I won’t take that risk.” He said, shaking his head.

never

The world was marvelously too still, too solid. Despite not knowing where she was or truly knowing the people she was with, Shuntala felt comfort spread through her like warm tea. She wiped at the tears springing up. Aldara took the cup then slid onto the bed, taking Shuntala into her arms. “Let it all out,” She said quietly. “You are safe now.” Safe. A week before she saw Zherlind that word was a dream. She was bent and twisted but Saavin hadn’t broken her and if she chose to, he would never see her again.

Home:

news

“Ka’il,” Klement grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him further into the work area. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but if you are planning on running as far as possible the moment we reach land, think again.” Ka’il stared at him, his shock turning into fear. “Why?” “Like me, you are a valuable member of this ship now. Take a seat,” Klement pulled a stool closer to a second one before sitting down. “I haven’t set foot on land in almost two years.” He said and Ka’il nearly slipped from the stool.

near

“You’re back,” Ka’il’s mother replied, her face showing her relief at seeing her two children back safe. “Ka’il is doing the dishes,” Miriel said as she came in. “Is he now?” She said, smiling. Ka’il rolled his eyes and sat the basket near his mother. He patted her shoulder as he sat in the chair next to her. “You’re father is out catching fish for dinner,” She gave Ka’il her usual look when she mentioned his father fishing. Ka’il smiled as he began sorting the spiny farronroot, laying them all out in groups of five on a large tray that was set on the table. “Who went with him?” “Ruali,” She poured the last of the dandelion tea into a small cloth pouch and placed it with the others she had been filling. “That will be a disaster,” Ka’il commented as Miriel began piling the bags of dandelion tea in one of the large crates they kept on their medicine counter. The crops were growing well this year and they now had bins of surplus that could be distributed to struggling clans nearby. He smiled at the collected bounty before passing his mother a pile of farronroot.

[soctrust]

Steal a boat watch dogs 2

STEAL A BOAT WATCH DOGS 2 UPGRADE

STEAL A BOAT WATCH DOGS 2 DOWNLOAD

This isn’t exactly “non-lethal” as whoever you send will almost always get in a deadly shootout with your target and their allies, but this is the most fun ability in the game by a mile.

STEAL A BOAT WATCH DOGS 2 UPGRADE

Higher tier versions of this upgrade will send the heaviest gang hitters, or entire SWAT teams. Watch Dogs 2 adds a new ability where you can either call on the cops or members of a local gang to attack a target after you forge evidence against them. It’s not actually called the “snitch skill,” but that’s pretty much what it is. You Will Never Have More Fun Than When You Use The Snitch Skill This will not let you carjack occupied cars without consequence, however, but there are enough parked cars around where you will never actually have to do that unless you feel like being a jerk.Ĥ. Buy this skill and this will never happen again, improving quality of life immensely. The problem is that if you don’t have this skill and there’s anyone at all nearby you, any car will set off its car alarm and get the cops called on you.

STEAL A BOAT WATCH DOGS 2 DOWNLOAD

You can order one using a phone app (don’t forget to download that, buy the way), but it’s much easier to grab whatever’s nearby. It sounds simple enough, but soon you will start fast-traveling everywhere on the map, and when you arrive, you won’t have a car. This is the ability to auto-unlock any cars you find on the street without setting off the car alarm. But trust me when I say that this is the most commonly used ability in the game, and it will make your life much easier the moment you buy it. The First Upgrade You Buy Should Be Car ThieveryĪlright, technically this would be the second upgrade you buy because it's tier 2 and you have to purchase the ability to remote drive cars first. Get it is as soon as possible, and there will be quite literally nothing out of your reach after that.ģ. It can spot ways to reach rooftops which is key in endless locations throughout the map. It can hack mission objectives and skill points by itself. It can set up an entire gauntlet of booby traps without being spotted. It can scout enemy positions from on high. It’s hard to understate just how key the drone is for everything in the game. The game may prompt you to get the drone eventually, but you are better off getting it as soon as possible. It’s the only truly mission critical item in the game that you can buy with cash, and it’s only $50-60K or so, which you should be able to amass after hunting down a few bags of money around the world and hacking a few phones. When you first start the game, you will be gifted the RC car for free, but before you buy literally anything else, you have to get the quadcopter drone. The First Thing You Buy Should Be the Quadcopter I really regretted when I started out going in to missions guns blazing, and it was only after I gave them up completely that Watch Dogs 2 really came into its own.Ģ. Going (mostly) non-lethal is not only more fun, but it will more properly align with the overall tone of the game and stated goals and methods of DedSec. While it may have been tolerable for vigilante mystery hacker Aiden Pearce to run around killing corrupt cops and gang members with guns, it makes no sense for the goofy, good-natured members of DedSec to stalk through the streets of San Francisco firing automatic weapons at anyone who looks at them the wrong way. On top of that, I said in my review that I wished lethality wasn’t even an option because it makes almost no narrative sense. If you reach for your gun every time you come up against enemies instead of taking advantage of the much-improved non-lethal and hacking mechanics, you will be missing out on 90% of what makes Watch Dogs 2’s gameplay interesting. The game, like its predecessor, is at its worst when it tries to be Grand Theft Auto, letting players have access to a bunch of heavy weaponry and try to shoot their way through situations that they should be hacking through instead. I know, I know, this one may seem crazy, but I promise you this is the “right” way to play Watch Dogs 2.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

journey, m | ot7

full title: journey to the dick

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

summary: A Cinderella story but it's a dick pic. Yup, that's right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of alcohol consumption / partying; horny crack, everyone radiates chaotic energy and wants to fuck; reader is comparing their dicks to above-mentioned dick pic so there's a lot of talk about dick, did I mention there's a lot of dick? dick; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking, handjob, thigh fucking, dance studio sex, overstimulation, fingering, dry humping, 69, face-sitting, photography during sex, m-masturbation, being cummed on (neck / chest [a cum necklace LMAO] + hand), film studio sex, wall-fucking, being overheard / walked in on during sex (and not giving a shit, oops), implied car sex, implied threesome); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene

appearances based on the 'Butter' jacket photoshoots yes, the opening line is #50 of my prompt list LMAO title comes from Journey to the West, except it's dick because that's way more important. also, yeah, this is basically a harem hentai, but it's you and BTS, woohoo! :D

--

"Whose dick pic is this and why it is so inspirational?"

Park Jimin craned his head over to look at your phone, black hair brushing against your forehead. "Damn! That is an incredible dick."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kim Taehyung muttered, yanking your phone out of your hand and peering at the screen. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown hair. "Oh, ho! What a high-quality specimen of a dick."

"Why is it on my phone though?" you frowned, taking your phone back from Taehyung. You were sitting next to Jimin on their sofa, contemplating the great mysteries of the world. The black phone case had a cute mouse holding a large sewing needle and sitting next to a spool of sky-blue thread. "I didn't take this one, sadly."

"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.

"I haven't been real drunk since I projectile vomited in your guys' parking lot."

"That was last week," Taehyung reminded you, smiling amusedly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Look, it was a bad breakup."

"You went on, like, two dates," Jimin laughed, smacking you in the arm.

"It had potential!"

"Yeah, a potential dumpster fire," Taehyung added, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the other side of you. "I know you go for the quiet, nerdy ones, but you're just–"

"Brash? Forward? Ready to sit on dick at any second?"

Jimin was being very helpful.

Taehyung shoved Jimin's grinning face away. "It's a conflict of personality and yours is quite intense, so maybe you should try and be more open-minded about other options."

You frowned, not enjoying this pep talk that you probably needed. In fact, you avoided said pep talk at all costs. You reached back and yanked on Taehyung's ponytail. He prodded you in the left breast in response, glaring. You smacked his hand. He smacked your hand back.

Hey, when you don't have a good reply, resort to violence, right?

You looked back down at your phone. Swollen, red-purple, a good thickness. Nice length too, so hard it was sticking up without the assistance of a hand. You could spy the white pre-cum beading at the engorged tip. It was a strangely clear and well-composed photo. Black boxer briefs. Blue jeans, white shirt.

Fuck.

Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.

You turned the photo to Jimin. "Someone must have taken it last night when I couldn't find my phone for those two hours."

Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You remember anyone in this outfit?"

Jimin snorted, wrinkling his cute nose. "Everyone was in jeans and a white t-shirt. 'Cause there was that wet t-shirt contest later that night, remember?"

You scratched your head. Ah, yes. Taehyung won. Man looked fucking amazing thanks to working out his arms and chest the past month. Was it solely for the purpose of a silly party gimmick? Maybe. You weren’t complaining though. You did what any good friend would do.

"Oh, right. Who won?"

Taehyung grabbed your shoulders and violently shook you. "I did! Obviously – ah, fuck you!" His tone quickly changed when he realized you were laughing like a maniac, doubling over in a pile of giggles with Jimin. "You're the worst," Taehyung pouted, holding his arms protectively.

"I'm just kidding, don't be mad," you chuckled, reaching over to hug him. He accepted it, but not without continuing to pout. You nuzzled his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. "I bought you your favorite breakfast when you were hung over this morning, come on now."

His dark brown eyes shifted back and forth before letting out a long, deep sigh and hugging you back. Damn. He had a nice hug now thanks to these arms and his broad chest. He smelled like warm chamomile.

"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.

You patted him on the back before releasing him and holding up your phone. Back to the first order of business.

"Is this your dick?"

Taehyung scrunched up his face. "No? But I don't look at my dick at that angle either."

You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.

"Is this your dick?"

Jimin plucked your phone from your hand. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.

"Lemme check."

Then he stood up and started walking to the direction of the bathroom. Still holding your device.

"Uh..."

You trailed off.

Taehyung blinked.

The bathroom door closed.

Pants unzipped.

"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

-

"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."

"Be reasonable. I can't get hard from this dick pic. Don't you want to know the owner of said dick?"

You pursed your lips and squinted at your phone, standing in Park Jimin's and Kim Taehyung's shared bathroom, because they were roommates and your friends. The mysterious discovery of said dick pic from last night's party sparked this Journey to the Dick, because it was a very impressive, intriguing, and, most importantly, inspirational specimen of the male genitalia. Clearly you had to investigate.

For science.

Which was why you were standing in the bathroom with Jimin's sweatpants off and begrudgingly getting to your knees. Begrudgingly, because...

"I thought we were supposed to be ordering pizza and watching Running Man."

"We are," Jimin answered cheerfully. "After you suck my dick."

You glanced at the photo once more.

It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.

You gripped the waistband of Jimin's black boxer briefs.

Hmm...

Hold on.

You stood up suddenly and took your phone from him, sudden determination overtaking you.

"I have to do this correctly."

Jimin blinked rapidly, jumping with a yelp as you flung open the bathroom door to reveal Taehyung throwing himself into the wall, coughing awkwardly and hiding his face with his hands as you marched out purposefully. Jimin was still pants-less.

"In the proper order!"

Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.

"The hell does she mean, proper order?'

-

kim namjoon.

“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”

Kim Namjoon looked up from his book and blinked at you over his round glasses.

“Pardon?” he replied in English.

“Your dick,” you responded in kind, in English and with succinct pronunciation. “Your penis. Your willy. Your ding-dong. Your–”

Namjoon removed a hand from his book and held it up. “My what?” he interrupted you, laughing.

Oh good, back to Korean so you didn’t have to flex all the different ways you knew how to say cock in English. “Take off your pants.”

He blinked rapidly, innocently sitting there in his flowy white button-up and brown pants. He even had suspenders. Fancy man. He had dyed his hair recently, a steel midnight blue. That’s how Namjoon was, attractive and book-smart. Absolutely won the lottery when it came to genes and brains. You couldn’t see the title of the book he was reading, but it was probably a self-help or philosophy book. He was into those nowadays, exploring the human mind, while you were more into exploring the physical aspects of humanity.

Fucking.

Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.

(Usually, heh.)

“I have no objections to your proposition. I’m just confused on why so suddenly.”

You dropped your canvas tote bag on the ground. Your red, short summer dress covered in yellow lemons flared out as you shifted your weight to one hip. Your phone was in one of your hands and you waved it around like a baton as you talked.

“Aren’t I usually sudden when I want to fuck?”

Namjoon chuckled, rich and deep, shutting his book and putting it aside. Probably memorized his page number. Big sexy brain and all that jazz. A fantastic characteristic of his.

He also had a big sexy dick you were asking to see right now.

“You are, but sometimes you offer to buy me a meal or a snack first.”

“I mean, sure, if you want–”

He lifted a hand and cocked a finger towards himself, smiling. When he smiled, his dimples appeared. That was your favorite feature on Namjoon. You bounced over excitedly and sat on the couch, skirt flipping up and exposing your thighs, still holding your phone.

“I’m on a mission.”

He quirked an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses detective-style. “What kind of mission?”

You pointed to your phone. “Do you remember that party we went to, the one with the wet t-shirt contest?” You lifted your arm and flexed your rather defined bicep that made Namjoon raise his eyebrows and mouth a wow under his breath. Consistent handys really did the trick when it came to bicep muscle definition. “You remember, right? You showed off your guns.”

He burst out laughing, waving a hand. “They are not guns.”

“Sure, they are. I could do a lot of social justice with your biceps, Namjoon.”

He shook his head, grinning, dimples on full display. “And what’s with the dress? You don’t usually wear such a cute style.”

You ticked your phone to the apartment front door. “I’m meeting Seokjin later, but he said he’s going to play another round of bowling because Jungkook kicked his ass again. But anyway, back to what I was saying…”

“Ah, yes. I think I remember Jimin mentioning something to me now.”

You brightened, unlocking your phone and holding up the screen. “Right! I’m looking for the owner of this dick.”

His eyes widened and Namjoon leaned forward, readjusting his glasses again. “Wow. That’s quite a clear picture.” Then he coughed and averted his eyes.

You nodded quickly. “Well? Did you take this picture?”

He frowned and sat back against the sofa, sucking in a breath and ticking his head. “Mmm, maybe? I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember what I did…”

“Hah… Does this look like your dick, then?”

“How would I know?” he chuckled. “I don’t see my dick from that angle and I don’t have sober photoshoots with my dick.”

You pursed your lips. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to fuck then. Drop the pants.”

The thing about Namjoon was that he was a very reasonable man. You had a problem and proposed a solution and he, an avid learner who liked searching for answers to the great mysteries of this world, had the means to help you out on your quest, so he did. In addition, he thought you were hot, you thought he was hot, and you’d already fucked a couple times before Journey to the Dick, so the mutual agreement was already there.

Splendid!

The other thing about Namjoon was that he really liked to make you work for it.

Slightly less splendid.

“Are you choking?”

You squinted at him and flipped him the bird. He was well-versed with popular Western hand gestures.

Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”

And he put his hand back onto the back of your head and shoved your mouth down onto his cock once more.

You had half a second to breathe again before air was forcefully taken from you, Namjoon now holding you there, nose-first into his crotch, sighing contentedly as he expanded in your mouth. You planted your hands onto his strong thighs and pushed, but his hand didn’t budge. The safe signal was three taps and you weren’t tapping out yet. You glared and Namjoon closed his eyes, smirking slowly.

He left his round glasses on.

‘Course he did.

Damn you, Namjoon!

You reached up and pawed at the buttons of his white shirt, making Namjoon open his eyes to see what you were doing as you unbuttoned them rather deftly for someone who had his dick filling up their throat. He looked down at you, cocking an eyebrow. You cheekily cocked one back, poking his pecs with your pinky.

He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”

You clenched your throat around the head of his cock and he gasped, losing grip for a split second.

In that split second, you threw his shirt open, glorious his tan skin and large muscular pecs now in view, and slapped your hands down onto his thighs, instantly starting a fast, rough pace, curving your neck with every swallow, sandwiching his cock between tongue and top of your mouth, pulsing your wet muscles all over his length, staring at that well-built chest, watching the muscles ripple with his sudden, abrupt inhale.

“Oh, fuck!”

Sometimes you let Namjoon have the reigns, but this time you were on a mission, although it was a little distracting now because presently you had an unobstructed view of Kim Namjoon with his shirt open, head thrown back, midnight blue hair fanning over the sofa, his full lips open and panting, tendons in his neck tensing, broad shoulders flexed, leading down his defined chest and abs, core tight from your intense pace, thighs hard under your hands, cock swollen and thick, pulsating in your mouth. His large hands planted on top of yours, squeezing them with his.

The three taps applied to him too.

Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.

“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”

Shit, that’s right.

You reluctantly slowed, tongue swiping all over the underside of his dick, tracing the veins, moaning hotly around his cock. He lowered his chin, panting hard, dark brown eyes half-open and framed by his lovely silver glasses. It was him who reached for your phone and unlocked it. He remembered your pattern lock and you had only told him once. All your consistent fucks knew how to unlock your phone.

That’s how you had so many pictures of, ahem, good times.

He placed the phone on his hip and his head fell back against the sofa, inhaling deeply as you continued lapping at the base of the head, slowly sucking on it at the same time to keep him hard.

“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”

You mashed the tip of your tongue against the slit and coated it with pre-cum.

“Ah, come on, look already and compare,” Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, raising a hand to pet your head. “Then you can finish me.”

You popped your mouth off reluctantly. “Hmm.” You placed a few fingers on his cock and looked at it, positioning it to the correct angle that matched the photo. “Huh, it’s pretty close. But you have this noticeable vein here, and I think the head of your cock is slightly different…” You squinted and brought your face rather close to his stiff length. “The skin tone seems right, but it’s not exact, and I think you’re bigger…”

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his dick and smacked your cheek with the head.

“Oi!”

You puffed your cheeks, strings of saliva and pre-cum covering your face.

He grinned, dimples on full display. “Oops.”

You jabbed your finger at your phone. “I’m doing an investigation here!”

He shrugged cheekily. “You said it wasn’t exact. Get up.”

You put your phone on top of his book on the side table and glared at him. “Well, yeah, but no need to bop me,” you grumbled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, standing up, and removing your panties as Namjoon reached over to his pants and pulled out a condom from the pocket.

You did say you were coming. Namjoon liked to be prepared for you.

“You said you liked it,” he mused as you straddled his lap.

“I do when I’m notin the middle of an important mission,” you huffed, picking up the hem of your dress and revealing your wet pussy, chin cocked in defiance.

“You don’t have to sit on my dick then,” he said, pausing with the condom right over his cock.

You frowned. “Hurry up.”

He cocked an eyebrow, dark brown eyes trapping you in his allure. “Doesn’t seem like you want it.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Growled.

Then you smacked his hands away and rolled down the condom yourself before sliding onto him with one swift motion, clenching your jaw at the sensation of being quickly and solidly filled up, not giving him or you time to adjust. Namjoon tensed his neck, grinning, large hands coming up to firmly grip your hips. Your own came up to grab his biceps and squeeze them, mustering up your most indignant scowl. He chuckled, smirking as you pulsed your walls around him.

“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to do the moving.”

He clicked his tongue and rammed his hips up into you, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being driven into your tightness. Your nails dug into his arms, breaths shallowing into rapid gasps as he continued, firmly and roughly fucking you from below, hard thighs flexing and smacking into your inner thighs and ass.

“Hold your dress,” he repeated, voice low and commanding.

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered, reaching down with one hand to yank up your dress, pulling it up high so both you and Namjoon could watch as he very deliberately and very forcefully thrust upwards into your tight hole, smirking wider as he witnessed your expression and the strain of keeping the pleasure off your face.

“Don’t have to give orders if…” He jerked up particularly hard, hitting your sweet spot, causing you to gasp breathlessly. “You…” Smack! You bit you lip, moan trapped in your chest. “Just…” Smack!

“F-Fuck…”

“Listen.”

And then Namjoon seized your hips and fucked you hard and fast with you barely holding on his shoulder with one hand and the other clutching your dress, moaning his name shamelessly to his own face. Namjoon wasn’t a gloater. His face was serious and concentrated, brows furrowed and intent on giving maximum pleasure, maintaining clear control as you rapidly lost it, allowing and trusting him to lead you into carnal desires.

You leaned forward, hot exhale on his neck, changing the angle and letting him hit you deeper, tightening around him. You heard his breath hitch, hissing out your name. Your whispered against his jaw, close to his ear.

“You like it better when I don’t listen, Namjoon.”

So close, so close, so close.

He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.

“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”

You slid your hand into his midnight blue hair and shuddered, pleasure blooming from your core in heated throbs, savoring the intensity of the orgasm he gave you as Namjoon groaned in your ear, slamming you down onto his hard, twitching cock and moaning, spilling his own into the condom, thoroughly enjoying the vicious massage of your spasming pussy. You pressed your lips to his temple, flinching with the shivers that came after, riding out the peak by rocking your hips lightly, enjoying the fullness he gave you.

“Doesn’t seem like a punishment. I’m having a lot of fun,” you taunted, panting and mirthful.

He gave your ass a playful smack and you squeezed his length from top to bottom.

“We have time for round two,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear.

Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.

-

kim seokjin.

"Gah, fuck!"

"As a matter of fact, yes, let's."

Kim Seokjin nearly tripped and fell against the doorframe, gawking at you. His expressive brown eyes went wide, mouth open enough for a nice ice lolly to be placed between those plump lips.

"Why are you in my bed? Where are your clothes? Why are you holding Pink Bean like that?!"

You sighed exaggeratedly. Here we go. "I had a nice dress but Namjoon took it and said I can't have it back until after." You squeezed Seokjin's large Pink Bean plush that he usually kept on his bed, a fluffy representation of a boss from his favorite PC game, MapleStory. It had a bubblegum pink head, light purple horns, and a cute :3 face. You squashed it with your breasts and looked up at him, on your knees with your feet tucked under your ass, missing all your articles of clothing thanks to Kim Namjoon.

Such cute clothes only for him? I don’t think so.

Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.

"D-D-Don't do that to Pink Bean!"

"Why not? You've fucked me from behind and I used Pink Bean as my chest support."

He strode across the room with two steps, his long legs making it easy, looking handsome and summery in his pastel yellow shirt and shorts two-piece set, flapping his hands helplessly.

"That was a special case!"

You started bouncing on Pink Bean, you and your tits. Seokjin's brown eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually tripped at the end of his bed, falling face-first with a high-pitched yelp.

"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."

He yanked his head up, chestnut brown hair flying everywhere, shooting you a confused glare.

"Yah! You can't just show up naked and start demanding dick while abusing Pink Bean!"

You reached up and scooped your breasts forward, squashing them between the purple horns, nipples poking out above Pink Bean's head. Seokjin looked like he was about to pass out. Probably from loss of blood to his head.

You balanced your phone in your cleavage, inspirational dick pic between your tits.

"Is this your dick, Seokjinnie?" you asked sweetly.

He started, squinting at the screen between your tits. "The heck? What is that?"

"A dick. Is it yours?"

Seokjin made a disgusted face.

"Are they really that ugly? Mine sure as hell isn't."

"Oh, so it's not? You know for sure?"

Seokjin scoffed. "Come on, there's no way that could be mine, look–"

And he sat up and yanked his shorts and underwear off, slapping them down on the floor and spreading his legs, presenting his very hard and quite pretty dick and balls. He huffed triumphantly, planting his hands in his hips.

"How could that thing compare to–gah!"

You crawled over Pink Bean, shoving the plush against your stomach and placing yourself between Seokjin's long legs, oblivious to his shriek of surprise, holding up his shirt as you compared his cock to the one on your phone.

"What the–where did you g-get that picture?!"

Your hot breath wafted over his twitching length as you held it delicately with your fingertips, ass up in the air, tilting his dick to adjust the angle so he mirrored the photo. "Remember that party with the wet t-shirt contest?” you explained nonchalantly. “The one where I said you'd totally win because of your broad shoulders, but Taehyung got more votes because he had been working out and looking all buff recently?"

Seokjin was gasping as you held up your phone. Hmm, not the same thickness. Plus, he seemed harder, sticking out straighter than this photo dick. But there was a small mole in his dick that seemed to match the picture. The length is pretty spot-on too. You scooted closer, cradling his cock with your palm and coaxing it with your fingertips, ass bouncing on Pink Bean's head.

"Oh, fuck..."

"Anyway, someone snapped this photo and I've been trying to figure out who, but everyone was drunk and, if I recall correctly, you were on a table dancing with a pool noodle and belting Kim Yonja's 'Amor Fati', so I don't think you remember much from that night."

Seokjin's voice was pitched, strained from holding back.

"I remember those... oh, fuck... those shorts you were wearing... ah, with your ass hanging out on the bottom... fuck, wanted to bend you over... but yeah, after that..."

Then you yelped when you felt his hands on your head dragging you forward and pressing your open lips to his cock.

"Ah, yeees..."

"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"

He shoved the head of his cock into your lips and looked down. You narrowed your eyes as he began to gently hump your face, filling your mouth with the hardness. You sucked in your cheeks a little, molding your mouth to him, still giving him your best annoyed face.

"Is it my dick?" he gasped, pushing deeper.

You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.

"Yes or no?"

Seriously? You held up your hand and hovered it in the air, wiggling your fingers up and down, the universal sign of–

"What do you mean, maybe?! Oh, it's because a phone camera isn't good enough to catch the majesty of my cock, is that it?"

You could had been annoyed, but then you thought about it. He brought up a good point. You hadn't considered that. Still, the shape wasn't exact though. A phone camera couldn't alter dick angle, right?

No time to think about it because Seokjin rammed his entire length into your mouth and down your throat in your moment of contemplation.

"Mmmphf!"

"Just, ah, don't move, let me fuck your face real quick–"

You didn't really expect anything less, so you pushed him down, sliding his shirt up his torso, changing the angle so you weren't straining your neck. Seokjin fell onto his elbows, hands letting go but hips still moving, groaning as you enclosed your mouth around him and rubbed your tongue all over.

"Ah, your ass is so sexy, damn, bounce it for me..."

He seemed to forget that in order to do that, you had to hump Pink Bean like a dog in heat but, hey, when the man who called himself World Wide Handsome (drunk and sober, that was the kind of man Kim Seokjin was) asks you to twerk for him, you do as you are told and give Pink Bean the best hump that plush is ever going to have.

"Fuuuuuuuck, yes, your ass is so perky and juicy, fuck, like a sweet peach..."

You tried not to choke with laughter in his dick, but the action made your throat muscles squeeze and spasm around the head, immediately making it jerk and swell at the added simulation, causing Seokjin to gasp your name and fiercely clutch his sheets.

"Fuck, yes...!"

You looked up, cocking an eyebrow, seeing his brown hair messy and fallen over his forehead, eyelids fluttering, panting as you took over the pace, firmly enveloping him all the way to the base, sandwiching him between your tongue and roof of your mouth, dragging the head over the slick wetness, pulsing expertly around his hardness. His dainty pink tongue flitted over his lips and made them glisten, full, plump, sexy as hell.

"I'm so glad Namjoon took your clothes," he wheezed.

This guy really said whatever thought that popped into his handsome head.

You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.

Then you grabbed his hips and really gave it to him, fast and tight, angling your head so he slid into your throat deeply and easily, sending Seokjin into a sputter of curses, prayers, and blessings to who-knew-what, gripping fistfuls of his sheets and throwing his head back, beautiful neck on display and broad shoulders flexed, moaning loudly.

You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.

Then Seokjin thrust his crotch into your lips and gasped your name, shooting down your throat in swift, tense jolts, forcing you to stop staring at him and hurriedly gulp it all down, squeezing your eyes shut so you could concentrate, sucking in a short breath, and making him yelp, flinching to cram more of the head into your constricting throat.

You prodded his stomach sharply and drew an ‘X’, telling him to stop so you could swallow.

“B-But…”

You gave him a bunch of other hand gestures and none of them were nice. It contrasted the way you were lapping at his cock, coaxing him back to full hardness with soft tongue and delicate pushes against the roof of your mouth. He lifted one of his hands and started messing with yours, the one on his stomach making obscene hand signals. You felt him try and grab your fingers, poke at your palm, and, finally, grab your hand and tug it up, shoving your fingers into his mouth.

You popped your mouth off his cock in surprise. “Hey!”

Seokjin looked at you with giant brown eyes like a dog caught with a treat in his mouth. “Mmphf?”

You made a confused face at him.

His tongue started sliding between them, licking your joints and pads of your fingers, wiggling all around, covering you with his saliva and sending shivers over your skin at the strange sensation. You could feel the power in that squirming muscle, his brown eyes watching your reaction, your own eyes fixated on the way it looked, three of your fingers surrounded and crammed into those lush, soft, pillow-like lips, squirming, sensual tongue slipping between them, dripping saliva down your palm and back of your hand.

“H-Hey…”

It was bizarre, feeling an odd juxtaposition of the submissive nature of the act, and yet he was deliberate and forceful about it, staring pointedly as the tip of his tongue snaked out from the side of his lips, licking the side of your pinky.

“S… Seokjin…?”

He reached up and pulled your hand out of his mouth, the pads of your fingers dragging on his lower lip, wet streaks of saliva painted down his chin.

The ghost of a smirk on his open mouth, eyebrow ticking arrogantly.

You blinked at him, unaware that you were clutching Pink Bean with your other hand so hard that your knuckles were white.

Then Seokjin grinned and wrapped your wet hand around his dick and started jacking himself off with it.

“Hey! I want that in me!”

“What? Gah!”

Somehow, you convinced him to fuck you – read: threw Seokjin down on his own bed, put a condom on him, rolled him back on top of you and guided his cock to your pussy before grabbing his ass and yanking down, making you both gasp as he entered you with one smooth stroke, your back on top of Pink Bean.

Pink Bean was really seeing a lot of your naked body today, just like Kim Seokjin.

“F-Fuck– yah!”

That was his noise of protest as you yanked his yellow shirt over his head, throwing it as far as you could, out his still open bedroom door.

“Sorry, needed to get rid of useless things.”

“I like that shirt!”

You grabbed onto his wide shoulders and rolled your hips up into his crotch, wrapping your thighs around his waist and squeezing. He sputtered at the intense feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, arms shaking to hold himself up, brown hair messy and wild over his forehead, brown eyes wide in indignation.

“Sorry, my bad, I’ll pick it up after I get another out of this magnificent dick,” you quipped.

Seokjin turned red, unaccustomed to someone other than himself complimenting him.

“Why are you hanging onto me like a monkey – oh my God…!”

You used his mattress and Pink Bean to bounce up and down on his dick from below, fingers tangled in his hair, wetly smacking your hips into his crotch, panting his name into his ear, your cock feels so fucking good, love the way you fill me, fuck me up, Seokjin, giving him the praise that he wanted and that breathless moan he liked, the one where you added a bit of underlying mischievous depth, pulling back one of your hands and tracing his plush lips, his mouth opening and pink tongue lolling out, puling you into that wetness, locking his gaze with yours.

Soft and tight around two of your fingers as you slapped your hips into his, losing a bit of your power now that a hand was occupied, intense sparks shooting from your fingertips to your core, his tongue sliding sensually between them, your juices leaking out, getting wetter and wetter, head emptying and replaced with sinful pleasure as you stared into those dark brown orbs with blown-out pupils, sparkling eyes smiling at you.

Seokjin took over and started fucking you into his mattress (and Pink Bean).

Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.

-

min yoongi.

"Ah, fuck, I forgot, I need to see your dick, f-fuck!"

"It's," Smack! "A," Smack! "Little," Smack! "Busy at the moment."

"Yoongi!"

The bed shifted and hit the wall.

"Oh no," came the most unbothered oh no behind you.

"Your damn neighbors are going to complain again," you hissed, planting your hands on the mattress and lifting your upper body up a little to scowl at him. "They're so annoying."

"Yeah, that's why I like fucking you," Min Yoongi snickered, looking back with his curly black mullet in complete disarray, smirking lips dark and swollen from making out. He raised an eyebrow at your displeased expression, dark brown eyes flashing. "Something wrong? Not rough enough for you?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I need to see your dick when it's fully hard."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. After this one."

"Yoongi–"

He cut you off. "Hand," he ordered.

You extended your left hand out back to him and he grabbed your forearm, long fingers gripping tightly, before proceeding his railing of your pussy from behind, your ass smacking into his crotch repeatedly.

"Yoongi – ah, oof!"

You slipped and fell face first into his pillows, gasping at the altered depth of each thrust, hard and deliberate, filling you up as you clenched around him, following his rhythm by pushing back with your hips and moaning as Yoongi slowly built up the pace, bottoming out each time.

"Why do you need to see my dick?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't pounding you with it right this very second.

"Because, oh fuck, someone left a, fuck, Yoongi, yes, dick pic on my phone, aaah, right there, fuck, you're so fucking good, that night of the party, the one with the wet t-shirt c-contest, fuck, Yoongi, I love your dick so much, fuck!"

"Why would I do that?" he grunted, spanking your ass with his free hand and making you claw at his sheets, pain seeping into the pleasure and amplifying it, skin prickling hot, causing the excessive dripping between your joined legs. The headboard was now repeatedly smacking the wall.

"I dunno, you were drunk too, do you remember, mmm, yes, harder, yeah, like that, telling Taehyung you loved him and that he was your favorite little alien child?"

Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.

"No, I do not..."

"See, maybe you jacked off and snapped a memoir on my phone."

Yoongi let go of your arm and firmly gripped your ass with two hands.

"Memoirs are written."

"Maybe if they wrote their name, I wouldn't be on this journey – ah, Yoongi!"

You grabbed fistful of sheets and snapped yourself back up, your hair messy and cascading down your shoulders, meeting every vicious slap of Yoongi's hips to yours, his balls hitting your soaked clit and sending stings of satisfaction from your core to your limbs, so good, moaning his name, his growl of yours punctuated by his nails digging into your ass, give it to me, come on, and you fucked him back, pressing your palms into his sheets and feeling the shuddering ecstasy again and again, deep pulses tightening around his hardness, making him groan with want.

"One more, one more, I'm so fucking close, fuck..."

"You've been close, you're holding back, you're a dick, ow!"

Yoongi smacked your ass particularly hard and you clenched your core so tight that he gasped and probably delayed his orgasm even further.

"You're the one asking to see it," he panted, adjusting the angle to shove you further into his bed even though it wasn't possible, and continued his relentless assault in your pussy.

"If anyone has a nice dick, it's you, you bas... fuuuuuuuck, Yoongi, yes, I'm gonna c-cum, fuck!"

The pleasure shot through you like lightning, waves of tortuous triumph as you clutched his pillow and screamed his name into it, your juices leaking out from around his pumping cock and splattering onto his crotch and inner thighs, drenching his balls, saturating his skin with your sweet scent, Yoongi moaning your name and squeezing your ass as he fully sheathed himself in your shaking walls and exploded into the condom, his whole length twitching and shivering inside your spasming pussy, your ass prickling on pain, both of you gasping for air.

Someone on the other side of the wall was banging it and told you two to shut the fuck up, or at least you assumed that's what that muffled yelling was.

You and Yoongi ignored it.

"Are you... hah... okay?" Yoongi panted, rubbing your ass and kneading it.

"Of course, I am, what do you take me for, an amateur?" you chuckled, lifting your head, your breathing erratic and uneven. "Now let me see your dick, Yoongi."

The other side of the wall kept swearing. Very colorful, very loud, very upsetti in the spaghetti.

Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.

"Fuck, fine, you know I like staying in there at least for a little while..." he grumbled, holding the condom down as you untangled yourself from his body, sighing exaggeratedly as you turned around and yanked it off. You tossed it into the trashcan that was already beside the bed.

Yoongi had the foresight to be prepared for a night with you.

"I don't have to leave soon. We have plenty of time."

The shouting through the wall seemed to have given up, kicking it once and swearing very heatedly before stomping off.

"You better not. I'm not finished with you."

You picked up your phone and unlocked it, opening your photo gallery, pushing Yoongi down so you could wrap your fingers around his slick, semi-hard cock. It throbbed contentedly in your hand as you began to move it up and down in smooth, tight strokes, flexing your fingers to add variation in the stimulation.

"Mmm, fuck, yeah, faster..."

You pulled the photo up and put your phone on the bed beside his hip and calmly continued your movements, looking down at him, him and fair-skinned cheeks with a slight fluffiness to them, him and his lightly upturned upper lip that gave him a cat-like appearance, him and his lowered lashes over black-brown orbs that held quiet, sensual intelligence. His hair was messy from fucking you so hard, but he was effortlessly sexy regardless, leaning back on his elbows, torso lifted to watch your hand. Yoongi noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow, wispy black strands grazing his dark brow.

“What?”

You smiled.

“Just thinking you’re really hot, Yoongi.”

He cringed slightly, ears turning pink and shifted his eyes away, closing them. Your own roamed down, down his defined shoulders and toned arms and chest, sucking in a breath at the sight, that slim waist and pretty hips, his cock filling up your hand, getting harder and harder, the head getting darker from sensitivity, the slickness of the lube and his own cum making it easier for you and better for him. Your other hand traced his side, running your nails over it and you heard his low moan, raising your head and your eyes found his. He was observing you again, glancing from the photo to you, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, ticking his head to the screen.

“That it?”

You ran your nails over his skin, just the way he liked it, light, pressing in a little when it came to the upper side of his hip, seeing his pupils expand and his breathing shallow, pink tongue licking his lips slowly.

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.

You increased the pace, pumping him from base to head, entranced by Yoongi’s expression, desire and cockiness despite becoming unraveled in your hands, his lower body trembling under you, your thighs pressed to his tense ones, tempting you to sit on and rub yourself all over them.

“Pretty dick.”

Slap, slap, slap. Hand on wet cock, sending shivers through you and through him.

“That’s why it could be yours.”

You saw his cheeks flush light pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he made piercing eye contact.

“Stop.”

You gasped sharply and ceased all movement, feeling his rigid stiffness pulse against your palm.

“Look,” Yoongi commanded in that low, raspy voice of his.

You bit your lip and removed your hand, strings of fluids snapping between your fingers and his hot, taut skin. His cock was so hard that it was sticking straight up, dark and imposing, twitching slightly. Long pale fingers picked up your phone and held it next to his erection.

“Well?” he chuckled.

You chewed on your lip, squinting at the screen. Reached over and ran your wet fingers over his twitching length, hearing Yoongi hiss and gasp at your touch as you angled his dick to match up with the photo. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult – the position seemed to match up perfectly. He was a little taller and thicker though. The shape of the head was similar, but also a bit off. The skin tone wasn’t quite correct either, the red-purple with subtly differing undertones. Still, lighting might affect that kind of detail. It wasn’t like you knew where this picture was taken.

“Hm… It’s really close, but not an exact match.”

“Well, damn.”

Yoongi tossed your phone aside carelessly, hand reaching out and you bent down, already knowing what he wanted, lips to lips, sliding against his body. You loved the way he kissed. Intense but soft, hand on your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek, nail grazing your earlobe, whispering into your lips, put me between your thighs, and you shifting up, closing your thighs around his wet cock, his lustful sigh and smirk on your lips, slowly thrusting in between your legs.

“Tighter.”

You hooked your ankles, one over the another and squeezed.

“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”

His words reminded you of the first time, crammed into the backseat of a small car, snuck out of a party to have Min Yoongi pull you into his grasp, tongue and lips all over you, your arms over his shoulders, wondering what you were doing because this kind of guy wasn’t your type, quiet, yes, a music nerd, yes, however he knew what he was doing, light bites on you skin making you gasp and slide down his jean-covered thigh, delicious friction to your soaked panties, tipping your head back to give that decadent mouth more access to your throat.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. A certain someone was probably wondering where you were.

“Yoongi, how… fuck, yes, how are you so good… you’re so good…”

His deep voice over your vocal cords, vibrating them with his seductive tone.

“DND your phone,” he purred, drawing a line down your throat with his tongue, coating you with his saliva, his musky, woody cologne transferring to your shivering skin.

“What…?” you panted, unable to think straight.

He plucked it out of your back pocket, tapping it against your arm.

“Put it on do not disturb and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll be coming back to me all the time.”

You fumbled with your phone, strong hands scooping out your breasts from your top, those lips sinking into your cleavage and tongue ghosting over your nipples, moaning as you dropped it, ignoring Park Jimin’s text, lost in those skillful hands and that expert mouth that eventually kissed down to your pussy and drove you crazy, but not before setting your skin on fire and making you beg for it.

“Yoongi…”

His lips on yours, his eyes and your eyes both half-open, marveling at the way his lashes adorned those black brown orbs and the way he looked at you, drunk on lust and your body.

“You want me?”

Hands on your hips, grinding you down on his thigh, teasing you. He wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type… so why, why did that sly, knowing gaze do things to you? Why did it make your heartbeat stutter and your juices seep into the denim of his jeans, so turned on that you didn’t want anything else right now but Min Yoongi?

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Y… Yeah…”

That smirk.

“I know you do.”

You did end up coming back all the time.

He was very good and it wasn’t just his mouth.

Yoongi backed up and smirked, open-mouthed, mischievous, so fucking hot that you felt your pussy throb at the mere sight, his warm, pulsing length still jammed between your soft, closed thighs.

“You wanna ride my dick?”

You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You completely forgot about the photo and spent the rest of the night on Yoongi’s cock and ignoring the yelling from his neighbors.

-

jung hoseok.

“Hoseokie…”

Teeth on your ear, a dexterous, teasing tongue flicking your earrings, your name coming out of that heart-shaped smile in a low, sultry whisper that contrasted it.

“You can’t come here looking like this and not expect me to want to ruin you,” Jung Hoseok purred into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your lips curved into a smile.

You were on your knees, spread out a little, short black minidress hiked up your thighs, facing the mirrors of the dance studio. Hoseok knelt behind you, hands travelling all over your body. Deft fingers, neatly manicured nails, his sharp jaw grazing your shoulder, pulling down the thin straps. Your large hoodie was tossed to the side, scattered onto the hardwood floor in haste. The frosted door of Smile Hoya’s rented dance studio space was locked, hip-hop music blaring loudly, and in the center was you and Hoseok.

You knew he could hear your shuddering exhale well, already attuned to the sounds of your pleasure.

He smirked and kissed the top of your ear, yanking down the top of your dress.

It wasn’t like this the first time.

“Ah, well, I was hoping… wondering, ah… I don’t know how to say…?”

You were in his bedroom at the time, confused. “Yoongi said you wanted to talk to me about something? What is it, Hoseok?”

He had been very nervous, somewhat shaky, staring into your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand, tilting your head. He took a moment to speak, hiding his brown eyes under his blond hair.

“Uh, well, I was talking to hyung and I mentioned I… I feel like I have to put up a front sometimes. Because I’m so happy and stuff. Women expect me to be like that… in bed… And he suggested that maybe you could help me… chill out, but, uh, that’s really rude to say, ah, I shouldn’t have–”

He tried to yank his hand out of yours in panic but you held on, tugged forward by his movement. Hoseok squeaked, ears turning red, freezing in place.

“Hey.”

You held his hand and patted it with your free one, smiling gently.

“I absolutely can help you chill out when it comes to sex. What do you want to know? What do you want to do? I’ll teach you.”

You noticed his expression change from panic to worry, chewing on his lip.

“N… No, you misunderstand… It’s not having sex, I…”

He trailed off, suddenly silent. You frowned slightly, nudging him. Hoseok cleared his throat and looked you dead in the eye.

“I’m not nice.”

Now he squeezed your hand tightly, breathing in your scent.

“Or rather, I don’t want to be nice when I fuck. Sometimes I want to let go and just…” He frowned, not seeming to know the word.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear.

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t want to think about an image I have to uphold.”

You grinned. “Yoongi did direct you to the right woman.”

His blond hair was even lighter now, the tips dyed with navy, a soft, sexy contrast to his rich tan skin. This was now many, many fucks later, hooking up at parties, at random times at his apartment, and now at the space he rented to practice dance on his own. Hoseok liked to freestyle and feel the music. When he fucked, he liked to feel the moment.

His hands gripped your breasts and squeezed, sandwiching your nipples between his index and middle finger, tugging hard.

You gasped in his hands, just what he wanted, open-mouthed smirk and all.

“Hoseok… I have to… ah, ask you something…”

He shoved his hips into your back and you gasped at the thinness of his shorts, rubbing his hardening cock against the top of your ass. A brown orb watched you through the mirror and he was smiling that brilliant, heart-shaped smile, contrasting his forceful touch.

“What do you want to ask?” he chirped cheerfully, pinching your nipples and twisting them.

You moaned, savoring the swift, firm pain followed by the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of your nipples, grinding your ass onto his stiff length. Your phone was in your right hand. You bit your lip, seeing him watch you carefully in the mirror. You raised the phone and unlocked it.

“Is this your dick?”

You noticed Hoseok pause and squint. You turned your phone and held at up so he could get a good look. His hands were still on your tits, although he had paused the moment to view the image, blinking rapidly at it.

“When was this taken?” He tilted his head, looking confused.

“The party with the wet t-shirt contest? The–”

“One where Yoongi grabbed Taehyung and told him he was his favorite alien child?”

“Oh? You do remember?”

Hoseok winced, as if the events of the night haunted him. “I remember… not much after that…”

“Oh…” You faltered. “So you wouldn’t remember if you took this picture on my phone, huh?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then… can I see it?”

He grinned. “You have to earn it.”

Earning it could mean anything.

Today, earning it meant cumming at least three times with Hoseok’s fingers before he even let you take off his shorts.

“H-Hoseok…!”

He always smelled so good, so fucking good, orange and musk complemented with the barely-there vanilla sweetness, a scent that always seemed to linger on your skin afterward. His lips were on your neck, leaving small bites, chuckling darkly. One hand on your nipple, the other between your legs, your dress bunched at the waist and your panties at your knees, not letting you take any of it off, forcing you to watch yourself as he wrecked you, teasing your oversensitive clit with his fingertips, slick and slippery, thighs shaking from the second orgasm and coaxing you to the third, sharp throbs of lust causing your eyes to roll back, head falling against his shoulder.

“Hoseok, p-please…”

He had no trouble holding onto you, flexible and strong, and you were grinding your hips down, lost in the feeling, leaking everywhere because he hadn’t actually put his fingers inside you yet, teasing you and teasing you and teasing you, driving you crazy, please put your fingers inside me, please Hoseok, your name murmured gently in your ear, no, not until the third time, and then I’m going to put my cock in you once you’ve shown me how good of a girl you are, and you were going to lose your mind, shivering in continued ecstasy, squirming in his hands, your own reaching back and fisting his hair and white shirt, moans masked by the loud music, so close, so close, your perfume mixing with his, sex and cologne, shivers and heat, teeth on your ear and circles rubbed onto your aching nerves.

Shallow gasps.

Peaking pleasure.

Seeing nothing but black, eyelids fluttering, wanton moans torn from your throat.

The song ended.

Hoseok removed his hand from your nipple and covered your mouth, muffling your scream as you came, taking your air and your sanity, pleasure rocketing up your core, crying out with need for something, anything, inside you, pushing your hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock swell at your bouncing ass, desperate for him.

The music began again.

Now you were on your hands and knees, suddenly released, gasping for breath, legs shaking from the aftershocks.

“Look.”

Turning around, your shaking hands pulling down his shorts hurriedly, still wearing your black dress and panties around your knees, hardly registering the inconvenience, not caring, completely focused on the semi-hard length in front of your face. No time. Hoseok gave you no time, grabbing your face and dragging your open mouth to him, sliding into your lips, his oversized shirt touching your nose, you whimpering at the hotness and tautness of his velvet skin. The fullness invaded your throat, taking your breath away. He buried himself all the way in before yanking his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside with his vest that was shed earlier, far too hot now, looking down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t choke.”

Hand in your hair, pushing you down, not letting you move as he rolled his hips into your face, the head rubbing against the rood of your mouth and your tongue pushing it up to make it tighter for him, taking him deeper, hazy and intoxicated on orange, musk and vanilla. His other hand held your phone up, unlocking it with ease.

Smirk on those lips, heart-shaped and teasing. “So? Is it mine?”

You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.

“Your choice,” Hoseok chuckled, tone light and unassuming, the edge of danger only visible in those sparkling brown eyes. “Find out or I’ll cum in your mouth and not in that pretty pussy of yours I’m looking at right now.”

Right, because you were bent over, ass facing the mirror, wetness dripping down your inner thighs.

Fuck.

You backed up, growling, glaring at the picture you knew all too well now.

“Well?”

Fine, fine, fine, you were on this fucking Journey to the Dick, and it was starting to feel more like an annoying side mission than the actual main storyline, but, whatever, you reached up and angled Hoseok’s cock slightly, sucking in a breath with him as you looked from phone screen to the delicious real-life specimen. Hm, okay. Similar in length and color. Not in angle though. Shit. And not in width either, barely a hair slimmer and the vein placement was more prominent on Hoseok’s length than this dick.

“Fuck, it’s really fucking close but I don’t think it’s yours.”

“Shit,” Hoseok sighed, turning your phone off and tossing it onto his discarded shirt. “Oh well.”

You narrowed your eyes, pouting. “What kind of react–gah!”

Hoseok pushed you down onto the ground, pushing his shorts down to his knees and pulling out a condom from the pocket, cocking a brow. You sputtered, trying to untangle yourself from the labyrinth of your own clothes, but only managed to kick off your panties before he got the condom rolled down and pushed your legs up, lifting your ass completely off the floor.

“Can’t have this pretty ass on this dirty floor,” he snickered, lifting himself higher, bending you in half, almost on your upper back, nearly uncomfortable, but Hoseok was stronger than he looked, and when he gave you what you needed, you instantly forgot about the discomfort.

“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”

He plunged into you, into hot wet tightness, stretching you out easily from the previous wetness, clit throbbing as he smacked his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass, drawing out another moan as his fingers brushed your clit, making you spasm and clench around his cock as he teased the overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, so wet, so desperate for a cock to fill this hole, aren’t you?” he purred, still so sweet but with such dirty words, so handsome with his blond hair and navy tips, heart-shaped smirk and glittering eyes, and the way he said your name, dainty and serene, slowly thrusting into you, but so hard, he was so hard from being inside you, completely consumed by the physicality of the act and no longer the same man who had been worrying about how you would perceive him.

That seemed ages ago now.

Your hands reached up between your legs, running your fingers through his hair, completely forgetting about the photo of the mysterious dick and focused on the one thrusting between your legs, smiling up at him, those brown eyes and lovely jaw.

“You’re so good, Hoseok, so fucking good to me, fuck, harder, yes, ah…”

Both of you forgot about the music, fucking through the pause between them, hoping that everyone else was too busy with their own choreography to think about the hot gasps and moans exchanged between you and him in the middle of the room, the act reflected in the wall of mirrors, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls, your name and his name in breathless whispers, tight and full and hot and wet and soaring on sky-high pleasure, climbing altitude and running out of oxygen.

“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”

“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”

Tip, free-fall, you clamping a hand over Hoseok’s mouth and his hand over yours, screaming into each other’s palms at the intensity and the force of orgasm, smacking your hips together and holding them there, feeling his cock twitch inside you and your shivering walls clamp around him in rough, intense pulses.

It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.

“Hah… we should… probably not fuck here…” he gasped, falling a little, cradling your ass so it didn’t directly touch the floor.

“I’d fuck you anywhere, so that’s your fault. You need to be the voice of reason.”

He laughed, rich and infectious, and you grinned, holding his head against your breasts and hugging him tightly.

-

park jimin.

“I hate you.”

“Come on, Jimin.”

"I was supposed to be first!"

"Oh my God, are we going on about this again?!"

"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"

"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"

"No!"

You tackled him and you both fell to the floor, rolling into a mess of giant t-shirts, fierce kisses and your hands in his now red hair, fiery and hot-headed like he was being right now.

"You little–"

"Don't you dare call me little!"

"I was gonna call you a little shithead but if you wanna be a big shithead, that's fine with me!"

He pinned you down and you grabbed his waist with your legs and rammed your crotch into his black shorts, making him gasp in horny pain and crumple into his laundry that you were supposed to help him fold, but instead you were wrestling and he was complaining about not getting his dick sucked.

It was your turn to pin him down with your arms and your thighs, Jimin seeing stars as he struggled to breathe from your lower belly smacking his erection the wrong way.

"Why, ack, why did you run off saying there's a proper order?" he choked out, choking harder as your panty-covered mound sat down on his length and started rubbing up and down, smirking down at him, his red hair flaring out on his cream rug.

"'Cause there is," you replied, calm and cool.

"Order of what? Order of how you fucked us?"

"Nah, I fucked Yoongi first, remember? At that party, ages ago..." you hummed, extending the expanse of your movement, sliding up and down his thighs, his plush lips open and moaning softly, his grip on your large t-shirt tightening. It was actually his, because neither you nor Jimin knew the meaning of keeping your clothes on.

"Yeah, in my car!"

"Eh, you were drunk and playing pool with Taehyung, which, by the way, he mad cheated and you didn't even notice."

"Fuck!"

You weren't sure if that exclamation was related to your teasing or Taehyung cheating, but Jimin removed one of his hands from your shirt and flipped off the wall, in the direction of Taehyung's room.

Ah, so not you.

"Is it age order? But Namjoon isn't the oldest..." Jimin refuted himself, frowning.

"He’s first because he's kind of like the leader of you guys, isn't he? You all end up listening to his reasoning anyway."

Jimin squinted, pouting. "That's just because his tall and smart and has a fatty IQ."

You grinned. "148."

Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.

“I never thought about it, but other than that, it is age order, huh?” you mused, bouncing on his dick.

He shuddered with satisfaction, rolling his hips into you. “Then why would you…?”

You shrugged. “Your names sound good together like that. Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook…”

Jimin added your name last with an amused smirk. You bit your lower lip, cocking an eyebrow and sporting a devious smile, leaning down. Lips to lips, a soft sigh, remembering that night, stumbling out of Jimin’s car and tangled in Yoongi’s touch, still kissing Yoongi with your ass on the hood of the car. Jimin had been annoyed at you then too, how could you fuck him first and not me, Yoongi laughing in that raspy, sexy way of his, because I asked, dumbass, Jimin grabbing your face and kissing you right in front of Yoongi, the older man clicking his tongue and squeezing your ass tighter, unimpressed.

In some ways, that night started off the chain reaction of hey, why not me?

Okay, maybe you did have some frustrations about your dating life and ended up tumbling into their beds for, ahem, emotional support, but in your defense, they were all great when it came to emotional support.

“Sit on my face.”

“That’s not the angle of the dick pic though.”

“Then just take the pic from that position. That’s how it was taken, right?”

Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.

He was great at eating pussy too.

“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”

A little messy at first, humming approvingly at your taste, thrusting his tongue into you and moaning as your muscles closed in on it, your slick nectar painting those beautiful, soft lips, him pressing them to your heat, lewd kisses, tongue swiping up and down.

“Gotta clean you up so you can dirty me up,” he breathed, tracing sensual patterns in between your thighs with his tongue, small nips to make you whine, his hands on your ass, moaning into your pussy as your kiss came into contact with his rigid cock, dripping saliva and licking it back up, gyrating your tongue at the tip and licking off the pre-cum, savoring the taste, strong and almost sweet.

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was frustrated with you.

“Fuck, give it to me.”

His hands on your ass, pushing you down, setting your pussy flush onto his lips, blocking off his airway and moaning hotly, desperate, needy, wanting your noises as you swallowed him, his length swelling in your mouth at the wet encasement, swirling your tongue all around.

You’re so mean. I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first, get on your knees, come on, aren’t you sorry?

You weren’t, not even in the slightest bit sorry for fucking Yoongi in his car, but you had enjoyed his little pout and twinge of jealousy, kisses up his muscular thighs, the same thighs you were clutching right now, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear, remembering his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, the same cock you buried all the way into the back of your throat, blocking your own ability to breathe, suffocating on it as Jimin groaned, coming back up for air, rushing exhale washing over your skin before returning to his work on your clit, rapid, intense licks that shimmered pleasure through your veins.

Jimin made you choke on his dick after the Yoongi incident, but you were the one in control of it now, rutting the head against your throat muscles, feeling it get harder and harder. He always felt so good in your mouth, recalling him saying once, I just really like getting my dick sucked, shut up and stop shaming me, tongue and lips and saliva, remembering how much he liked it when you held the base and focused on the tip, his muffled whines getting more intense and vibrating your core, making sure to pop your lips over the bottom of the head every time you came up and then pressing them tightly as you went back down, doing it all at that fast, suffocating pace that made him stop licking you to throw his head back and moan, loud lust radiating off the walls, not caring about disturbing anyone, too absorbed into your pace to be considerate.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck, you’re so good…”

Jimin was part of the reason you were good.

He really liked getting his dick sucked. Your mouth was one of his favorites and usually readily available.

Win-win.

“Faster, fuck, oh, shit, I’m gonna cum, mmmphf!”

He grabbed your ass and smothering himself with your pussy, body trembling under you as his cock jerked and shot into your throat, your lips closing in, sucking hard to drink his cum, his moans filling your wet hole and tongue all over your clit, furiously licking as you rubbed the twitching head into the roof of your mouth, his hips squirming at the overstimulation, but his violent grip and nails digging into your ass was telling you to do it, telling you he loved it, telling you he needed it, begging you to do what you did best, gulping around the head and then jamming it into your throat, cutting off your air.

He sucked on your clit, hard, whining so loud that you could feel it in his chest and racing heartbeat pressed against your lower belly, almost lifting your lower half with his upper body alone, showing off his strength from dancing. You angled your head, taking as much as you could, nose in his balls, whimpering around his cock and the snap of orgasm making your entire body flinch, leaking all over his face and into his mouth, his nose buried into your pussy, tongue soothing your throbbing clit, wave after intense wave, barely breathing, lightheaded with pleasure, clutching his thighs tightly, naked bodies suddenly dirty, surrounded by clean laundry.

Jimin yanked his head out from between your legs, panting in satisfaction, diving back in to shove his tongue on your quivering hole and scoop out your orgasm, sucking it out to drink it, murmuring your name into your slick juices.

“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”

You came up for air, gasping, tongue lolling out, holding his cock and rubbing the slit against your wet muscle. His stiff length twitched, still hard because of your mouth.

“Take the picture, mmm, yes, did you forget?” Jimin gasped into your pussy.

You fumbled with your phone beside his leg, still reeling from orgasm and Jimin’s continued ministrations, putting it in selfie mode and seeing the lower half of your face, chin shiny with saliva, his cum dripping off your lower lip, his cock in front of your face and naked chest, your breasts pressed into his abs.

You thought about licking off the visible cum, but then you decided against it, snapping the photo with your tongue hovering close to his rock-hard erection.

You knew the composition of the inspirational dick pic now, so you brought it up in a photo editing app, putting the two side by side while wrapping your lips around the head of Jimin’s cock, sucking it leisurely like a lollipop. He didn’t ask you to get off.

Instead, he planted your pussy into his face and suffocated himself with it again.

You studied the two photos. Hm. Firstly, yours was much sexier. No offense to white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black boxer briefs guy, but your glistening cum-covered lips and squashed tits in the background of the cock made the photo eons better than his. Jimin would definitely be asking for yours later. Anyway, back to the picture. Hmm. Jimin’s dick was slightly shorter and straighter, with a warmer skin tone to his purple-red tip, although the head shape was spot on. Was that possible to have a different length but almost identical head shapes? Did dicks work that way? Did Jimin have an equally sexy twin brother or doppelganger somewhere?

Hm, a threesome with basically two Jimins would be hot as hell.

He patted your leg and you climbed off him, sighing as you rolled over and pursed your lips, concluding that his wasn’t the mystery dick. Once again, close, but no dick. Wait. That wasn’t the saying. Eh, whatever.

“Fuck, send me that photo later, I’m gonna jack off to it.”

You laughed, feeling him crawl beside you and roll you onto your stomach, pinning you down with his naked body. “You wanna jack it to your own dick?”

He was rubbing said dick into the crevice of your ass cheeks now, using your saliva was lube. “Fuck yeah I wanna jack it to my own dick with your lips covered with my cum and your titties on my stomach, sounds fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”

“And you aren’t?”

The front door slammed shut. There was a loud yell of your name in deep baritone.

“Aw, hell no, I’m getting it in this pussy first, I got time before he comes to collect,” Jimin growled, reaching into his discarded shorts and ripping open a condom, scrambling off you and rolling it down his still-hard length, grabbing one of your legs.

You shifted to your side, glaring at him. “What am I, taxes?”

The deep voice called your name again, asking where you were.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer though, because Jimin thrust into you and you ended up moaning Kim Taeyang’s name to inform him of your whereabouts, causing Jimin to bend over and fuck you hard and rough.

“I can’t believe you would moan his name like that with my dick inside you,” Jimin growled, looking far too cute to actually be pissed at you. “Gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be sore for him.”

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was firmly fucking you into his floor and making you yelp as Taehyung burst the door open, sighing at the scene.

“Who would have fucking guessed what you two are doing…”

-

kim taehyung.

"You're so fucking stubborn."

"Wow, that's really rude, I don't make comments about your–"

"Shut up, I'm deleting his number."

You narrowed your eyes and frowned, sitting with one leg bent on Kim Taehyung's bed. He was currently in possession of your phone, clicking his tongue and pressing buttons on the screen.

"When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone," he scolded.

You cowered slightly, eyes shifting. "I was only asking if he was doing anything this weekend... I didn't have any ulterior motives..."

Taehyung squinted. You deliberately avoided his gaze. He sighed, crossing his arms. You were still wearing Jimin's shirt with nothing underneath so, uh, maybe he had good reason to be suspicious.

"You have a virgin kink."

You choked on nothing. "What, no, I don't–"

Taehyung reached over to his desk and put on the thin, gold-framed glasses he kept there. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. You abruptly stopped talking and gawked at him, breathless at the way his dark brown orbs were bordered by gold and his long, black-brown hair, the rest tied back in a small ponytail.

"And a glasses kink."

He took them off and you sucked in a tight breath, grimacing.

"That's why you keep going after these kinds of guys," Taehyung tutted, neatly folding the specs and placing them back on his desk. "And why you bonked Namjoon-hyung so fast, only to realize that he is not, in fact, a virgin."

"W-Well, he's still good..."

"Same reason why you got so excited when–"

"Look," you cut in, chopping the air with your hand, not letting Taehyung finish. His eyebrow seemed permanently raised. "I'm off my bullshit for now, no? I've got a mission–" You pointed to your phone and he held it out of your reach. You scowled and bounced back down into the bed. His eyes weren't following your face, but you ignored it. "–and I'll stop okay?"

Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.

"Serious. You just deleted all the numbers except you and your friends, right?"

He turned the screen, thumb hovering over a certain number. Him and his friends were listed from one to seven, in order.

His thumb was over number seven.

"Don't," you whined. "Please, Tae."

His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.

Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.

"Silly girl," he drawled, crawling onto the bed, advancing towards you, sultry gaze and enchanting eyes making you forget about your device. "Why would I do that? He likes you so much."

You growled slightly, letting him push you down but not relenting. "That's really fucked up."

"That I wanna hear you say please?"

His hand lifted and cupped your chin, mischievous smile, unable to contain his pride for his little trick, sliding his leg between your thighs, tilting his head.

"Not just any please," he murmured, deep voice silky smooth, dark curled stands brushing against your cheeks he leaned in, hot exhale on your lips. "Your needy please when I threaten to take your precious Jungkookie from you."

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his knee, tilting his head, highly amused at your narrowed eyes.

"You don't like it?" He was leaning down, feathery kisses on your lips and cheeks. "I know you like it when I tease you." His honey voice was dripping into the fire, turning into fuel that fed the sparks of arousal, your hands coming up to clutch his black shirt, pulling down the center zipper, his deep chuckle in your skin, hand from your chin sliding up to your hair, the other tapping down your front, grazing the thin t-shirt material.

"Don't..." you gasped, his deft touch toying with the hem. “Don't use the others against me. That's not fair...”

“Mmm, yeah?”

Drawing circles on your inner thigh with his nail, nicking the skin.

"You only want to think about me?"

Your phone hummed with a notification. Taehyung chuckled, fingers creeping closer and closer.

"Aw, I wonder who that is? But that's too bad, because you're all mine right now."

You gasped, clutching his open shirt as his fingers slid in, two because you were already wet, shallow breathing and lidded eyes telling him enough, taking your lips with his, pace slow and steady and maddening, spreading your legs with his knees, forcing you to tip your hips up to him in an embarrassing position.

Then again, embarrassment during sex wasn't part of your vocabulary.

You pushed his black shirt down one shoulder and reached in, your fingers snaking to the hem of the white undershirt and stroking his skin, his satisfied exhale hot against your neck, you remembering the way the water drenched the fabric and stuck it to his golden tan skin, playfully flexing his defined chest and biceps, adorable and arousing because Kim Taehyung was both. He separated his digits inside your pussy to create a loud, sharp, wet squelch. You heard him grin, smug at the dirty sound, then begin plunging his fingers in and out, in and out of the tightness, trying to be as noisy as possible. You clenched your core to make him work for it, force him to be rougher with you, his fingers curling in your hair, yanking firmly, lips on your ear.

"See, how can those boys you pick keep up with you, hm? They won't know what to do with your pretty, sexy self," he purred, faster, harder, pushing you to the edge with your heated moan and your hands all over his chest, lifting your hips to meet his touch. "You need us to take care of you, don't you?"

Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.

Like it was a decadent sweet he was craving, a taste compared to no other.

Your head fell back into the pillows, breathing in his warm scent in shallow puffs, his name pouring out of your lips, yearning and desire.

"Mmmm, Taehyung...."

Melting you into it, sweet bliss and sharp jerks of your hips into his hand, gasping at the flood of euphoria, trying to squeeze your thighs around his hand and stopped by his open legs. Your throbbing pussy gripped his fingers and made him hiss, his devious smirk growing as you lowered your chin again to look into those dark eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.

“Let’s play a little game.”

His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.

“It’s called, how many fingers can I stuff in you before you’re begging for my dick?”

“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”

One more.

Aching tightness, clenching your jaw, trembling at the ease of it, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, yeah, three’s too easy, huh? You already warmed up.”

One more.

“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”

His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.

“That’s better. That’s what I wanna hear.”

Whines in your throat as he picked up the pace, fast and hard, clutching his shirt and his side, your nails digging in, stretched out and stuffed with four, your eyes rolling back and one leg sliding up to hook around his waist, meeting each thrust, so deep, so full, so wet, loud and obvious and uncaring of who was listening – probably Jimin with a huge smirk on his face – panting Taehyung’s name over and over, feeling the strength in his hold and his grip in your hair, pulling lightly, shooting pricks of pain down your head to meet the oppressive pleasure brimming in your core, closer, closer.

“What do you want?” Taehyung growled, that deep voice dangerously low.

“Y-Your c-cock, p-please…” you managed to gasp out, chasing it, chasing the fullness and the depth.

“Can you take it? Can you take it like the good girl you are?”

“A-Ah, yes, please Tae, want it,” you moaned, your fingernails digging into his back, scratching down as your orgasm shattered through you, making your whole body shake and shiver from the intensity, him pulling out. Your moan turned into a hoarse whimper, squirming as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, spanking it and teasing it, rocketing you into peaks and valleys of cut-off ecstasy that drove you insane, clawing at his clothes, desperate for his body on yours.

“What’s your magic word?”

“Please.”

He grinned at you despaired tone.

“That’s it.”

It took no time at all, your shirt flung aside, Taehyung losing his clothes that were already half-off, hot body to hot body, heated kisses and rummaging in his nightstand drawer, groaning into his mouth as his cock slapped your thigh, hard and thick and ready, dripping pre-cum on you before he yanked you up on top of him, ripping open the condom.

“Work for it.”

Lacing your fingers in his, sliding down onto that impressive girth and gasping as it twitched inside you, rolling your hips down onto it, better than his fingers, bouncing on it with your tits following your rhythm, squeezing his hands. Taehyung liked this kind of intimacy, the kind where he was grinning like the devil under you but still holding your hands as you railed yourself with his dick, rough and hard with your own smug smile, a little erratic but somehow good that way.

He made you work for it and you were good at working for it.

You found a good rhythm and – ba dum tss – rode it, leaning forward to deepen the angle and make it last longer, pulsing around his length with your tight walls, control and power and endorphins, each smack adding to the lewd melody that mixed with heavy moans and shuddering gasps, bringing Taehyung on your rollercoaster, his hips rising, your name rumbling in his chest, blood thudding in your ears at the baritone depth.

“Yes, such a good girl, gonna make me cum, don’t you want me to cum for you?” he panted, fishing for the magic word, bouncing one of his dark brows, his long hair flared out on his pillows, high cheekbones and strong features no longer hidden by wayward strands.

Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.

“Yes, please.”

The right inflection of winded want, maybe a little mischievous, but Taehyung liked that, for there was no fun in someone who was too easy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”

He squeezed your hands and thrust his hips up fiercely, shock bolting from your core to your spine to your head, your head snapping back, gasp torn from your throat, flooding his crotch with your juices, overstimulated clit rubbing on the base of his cock and Taehyung was gone too, husky groan falling from his lips, slamming his hips up and locking his legs, shooting jerks of cum into the condom, aftershocks causing you to lose hold on your knees, moan pitching higher as you slipped down on his throbbing length, trapped on it because Taehyung wasn’t going to lower you until he was done, the head pulsing inside you, squeezed out by your shivering walls.

“T… Tae… the picture…”

“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”

He wasn’t going to let you leave without his mark anyway.

“Serious?”

“Deadly.”

You laid back against the pillows, spent, holding your phone, Taehyung straddling your chest and stroking his slick cock, plops of cum and lube falling onto your chest, messy dark hair curling around his handsome face. You could see the purple-red head peek out from between his fingers, hear the steady slapping as he pumped it back to full hardness.

“Alright, let’s see.”

Your chest was rattling but you raised your phone, bringing up the picture as Taehyung gripped the base of his cock, lifting it up slightly to put it in position. You squinted at the screen, looking from the photo dick to the real one. Of course. He was definitely bigger, a little thicker, but strangely, the color was almost the same. Was that lightning or similar skin tone? Or perhaps men with really nice dicks just happened to have Taehyung’s tan complexion?

You wouldn’t question it if it was true.

“You’re bigger,” you sighed, tossing your phone aside.

Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”

“We all knew that, even before I saw it.”

He chuckled, going back to fisting his cock. “That’s because Jimin has a big mouth and likes to spread rumors.”

“You like that he spends rumors.”

Taehyung shrugged, but his sly expression wouldn’t be hidden even as he shook his head to cover part of his face with his long brown hair, curtaining half of it with darkness, teasing and effortlessly sexy.

“Ready?”

“Mhm, do it.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, smiling wide, watching his breathing shallow and his eyes close, losing himself in it, faster and tighter, the wetness audible, strong thighs shuddering at your sides. Then he sucked in a breath, hissing your name and tipping forward, painting viscous white strings onto your collarbones and tits, pushing his shuddering cock up and down to spread it out, your clavicle now sticky and covered in his strong scent.

Taehyung ticked his head, lips in a devil’s smile, chest heaving with exertion.

“Your cum necklace is extra pretty today. Take a selfie for me so I can jack off to your cute face later.”

-

jeon jungkook.

“Jungkook?”

Jeon Jungkook shrieked your name like you were Michael Myers and he was Jamie Lee Curtis, flinging himself onto his computer monitor and mashing the power button to turn it off, his long purple hair flying everywhere, brown orbs like saucers, entire body shaking so bad that even his eyebrow piercing was vibrating.

He froze like that.

You blinked at him from the doorframe of his rented studio room, one hand on the knob and the other holding up your phone like a kitchen knife.

His leather bomber jacket was hung over the back of his rolling chair. The chair was currently slowly sliding across the floor, away from him and his panic. Jungkook was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and loose black jeans.

For a guy scared shitless, his pants were pitching a very impressive tent.

Had he been watching porn?

“Er… I knocked…?” you said slowly, pointing to the door. “Do you not hear me?”

“Um, uh, n-no,” Jungkook sputtered, looking you up and down. “No, I d-didn’t.”

“I said I was coming by today. Via text?”

“Was that today?” he echoed hollowly like a ghost in a shell, the end of his question pitching to a higher octave. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry. I think I f… forgot…” He was not looking at your face, instead staring at your thighs and your shorts, tight and tiny, shredded black denim paired with a loose, long-sleeved black top that read in bold, white, graphic, letters...

REALITY SUCKS.

You pointed to the turned-off monitor.

"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.

Jungkook's ears turned red.

"Yes," he blurted.

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

You nodded, closing the door. You tilted your head and locked it, just in case, before waltzing into Jungkook's film studio space, bouncing on the heels of your large black sneakers. "If you're gonna watch porn, you should lock the door. What were you watching? Is it lesbian porn again? Can I–?"

You reached over to turn the screen back on and Jungkook's tattooed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from it and to him. You blinked rapidly, confused at his tight grip.

"N-No, you can't see. You can't," he sputtered, pinning you against his hard body.

You frowned, annoyed. "Why not? I like porn." You squirmed against him, but he sandwiched you between his forearms, forcing you to look up and face him, thinning your mouth into a line. He gulped, eyes shifting, holding your body against his. His lower lip trembled, mole underneath bouncing with his uncertainty.

"I... It wasn't porn..."

You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"

Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.

"I was looking at your pictures."

You blinked rapidly. "What?"

"You know... the ones I take of you sometimes... You said it was okay..."

Ah, yes. Jungkook liked to take pictures of you. He had mumbled that it was because he needed practice and, later in bed, he admitted it was because he considered you his muse, an inspiration of sorts, so would it be okay if, maybe, you just turned a little and laid in his covers just like... like that, yeah, could he take maybe one photo?

"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."

A bit later, far too late, you had realized that had been maybe too chill of a response, but Jungkook seemed to prefer that and he acted less awkward about it every other time he asked to take a picture. They weren't usually dirty pictures. Although you were naked in some of them, they weren't quite inappropriate, every single one framed with delicate, well-thought-out composition. You always sighed and told him he made you look better than you actually were.

Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.

You pointed between your bodies.

"Were you gonna get off to them or something?" you cheerily inquired, bumping against his pitched denim tent.

"N-No!"

His ears turned scarlet and he jerked sideways, but you held onto him, hands firmly on his hips, not letting him twist away. He quickly covered his ears and pouted at you.

"I was... I just missed you."

You smiled, squeezing his ass. "I missed you too, Jungkook."

Your tone was soft, gentle. He stilled and lowered his hands, lips parting at your words, slightly surprised, incredibly adorable.

His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.

A pause.

Jungkook's eyes shifted to the side, mumbling under his breath. "And, yeah, okay, I got horny, but that's only because it's you..."

"That's great, since I definitely wanted to look at your dick as soon as possible!"

His eyes went wide.

You smiled widely.

Then he said something unexpected.

"Ow."

You looked down and backed up as Jungkook frowned and reached down to shift his rock-hard length in his pants, sighing in relief.

"Zipper was killing me..." he grumbled, running a hand through his purple hair.

"We should just take it off then."

"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"

You grabbed fistfuls of his black top and yanked it up and over his head, causing Jungkook to sputter in confusion, throwing his hands up as you unsheathed his muscular torso, leaning in, breathing on his skin, leaving him to untangle himself as your lips closed onto his dark nipple, tongue teasing the small nub.

"Ah, fuck!"

You lifted your lips, tongue still extended, looking up to see him flinging the shirt aside, his long purple hair messy and wild, tattooed arm and un-inked arm lifting, pushing his hair away from his face, his chest rising to your wet muscle, gasping. You had a clear view of that cute little mole under his lower lip, trembling with pleasure before Jungkook looked down at you, hazy chocolate orbs fanned by black lashes, breathing hard.

You ticked an eyebrow, licking slow circles, lips closing in again, sucking daintily.

He bit his lip and let it slowly tease out while you simultaneously teased him, your name leaving his lips in a low moan. You danced your fingertips up his thigh, nail tracing the seams of his jeans, kissing across his chest, his eyes following you, hips rocking into your touch, following your pace, letting you command it. His head tipped back as you kissed down his abs, whimpering with want, curling his fingers into fists.

Jungkook always made you feel like you were touching him for the first time.

"You're not a virgin?"

"No?" Jungkook had repeated after the first time you had fucked him, sounding confused. "I'm just like this? Is that bad?"

"W... well... no, and now that I think about it, you were suspiciously good..."

"You didn't like it?"

You had turned to look at him and, fuck, the way he looked at you, so cute and innocent, uh oh, and then the slightest hint of an open-mouthed smirk dancing on those shapely pink lips, reminding you of someone else.

"Namjoon-hyung said that's what you were into. Is he wrong?"

Voice so deep and so smooth, gliding over you like butter.

You almost hastily defended yourself but one look into those roguish, yet genuine, chocolate eyes and you couldn't lie.

"But... you should enjoy yourself too..."

Jungkook had grinned, endearing and heart-thuddingly handsome. "I do. I told you, this is how I am. You're just my type."

"And what's that?'"

He had pinned you back onto the bed, leaning in.

"Hot and horny."

Turns out.

Seemed to be a running theme with all eight of you.

Right now, his pants were falling and you were sliding up as your hand was sliding down, shushing him quietly, your other hand dancing up his neck and pulling his head down.

"Someone's gonna hear you," you whispered to his open lips, tone and touch implying you didn't give a shit who was listening, wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock the second he pushed his black boxer briefs down, his shivering moan tickling your cheek. His right hand came up to cradle your head and lean it against his, begging whines for you to move, pairing it with an irresistible, husky hiss of your name.

"Please..."

He liked it tight and he liked it rough, liked the way you could lock your fingers and keep that nearly suffocating pace, closing his eyes with a flutter and moaning into your skin, curtaining you with purple, his grip in your hair tightening as you built that speed, filling the rented studio with his silvery, erotic cries.

"Someone out there is going to think you're watching porn," you teased, nudging him with your nose, looping a finger back to smear the pre-cum over the swollen head. He bucked his hips into your hold, lips pressed to your cheek, intoxicated groan warming your skin.

"Kiss me and breathe into my mouth..."

You couldn't say no, not with his voice so soft and pleading like that, not with that edge of nervousness. Fuck, the way Jungkook succumbed to your kiss, uncontrollable tremors taking over his shoulders, hot taut skin twitching in your palm indicating he was close, and you almost broke away to say that he shouldn't cum like this, it'll be messy and get on the floor, but he grabbed your face and didn't let you go, whimpering in his throat, wordlessly telling you to do it, exhale into his throat and he groaned in his chest, long, drawn-out, consumed by lust, and maybe it was bad, but you loved it, loved the way he wanted it so bad, wanted you to push the air out of his lungs and suffocate his pulsating cock with your grip, pre-cum leaking between your fingers, finally pulling back and gasping, his lashes fluttering helplessly.

"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"

You had to think fast, looking down for a moment and feeling his cock jerk in your hand, swiftly switching to cupping the dark red head, thick white cum suddenly spurting your palm, Jungkook burying his face into your hair to muffle his wail, your scalp hot with his released exhale and your hand covered in his heated release.

You breathed in, smirking at the scent of dirty gratification.

"Jungkook..."

He whined softly, hips quivering as you covered his jerking length with your cum-covered hand, spreading it all over and getting him hard again.

"There's this picture..."

"Mmm, yeah, the h-hyungs told me... don't stop..."

You swung your hips from side to side, free hand running down his chest, your eyes roaming his toned body, his tattooed arm still hovering over your head, long fingers tangled in your hair still, squatting down and opening your mouth, tongue dancing out and licking your hand and the side of his purple-red length, wet sloppy kisses, slurping up his cum and moaning on the throbbing head, making sure that he could feel the sinful heat.

"Give me... oooh, fuck, give me your phone..."

Your hand left his abs reluctantly, tugging your phone out of your ass pocket and holding it up for him as your mouth closed around his cock, swallowing it all, eyes closing, cramming all of him until the head hit your inner throat and your lips pressed against his crotch, knees on the tile floor, thighs spread, hands poised in the air, unable to breathe.

Click.

You cracked open one eye to see Jungkook holding your phone above your head, teasing smirk on his shapely lips, mole winking at you.

“For me?” he asked, not quite innocent.

It was the first time Jungkook had taken an actual dirty picture.

You shrugged as if to say, sure, pulling back as he turned the phone around, the dick in question on the screen. You eased off his length, licking it clean, bringing up your wet hand covered in his cum, popping your lips off the engorged tip and sliding your fingers in your wet lips, tongue wriggling between your fingers, inspecting the two dicks. Jungkook was still hard – so hard that his cock was sticking straight out, almost mimicking the photo. You had to crouch a little more, tilting your head and placing your fingertips on his balls, raising his dick a little on the back of your hand, smearing saliva and pre-cum on your skin.

Yon continued to lick, grazing the underside of his length with your tongue and then pulling back, eyes going from the photo to the real thing.

Jungkook moaned above you, clutching your phone tightly, knuckles white under black tattoos.

Hm.

You tilted your head.

One way.

Then the other.

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmm.

“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.

You pursed your lips at the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over it and sucking off the pre-cum. He gasped, hips shaking, threatening to shove it into your lips.

“It doesn’t look like your dick at all.”

“What?” He sounded startled.

You pointed with your dry hand. “The shape is a little off, you’re longer and slightly bigger, and the color is different.” You sighed, whooshing hot air over his soaked, taut skin, Jungkook whimpering. You squinted slightly.

“Still…”

You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.

“I think he wears the same underwear brand as you.”

“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.

You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”

He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.

“Oh well.”

You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.

“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”

Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.

That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.

“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.

You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.

“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”

Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.

“You can help, you know.”

Fun night.

His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.

“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”

You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.

You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.

“You always feel so fucking good…”

You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.

-

“Hah…”

You rolled over, sighing loudly.

“Haaaaaaah…”

“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.

You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.

“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.

“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.

“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.

“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”

You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”

“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.

“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.

“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”

“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”

You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.

“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”

You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.

“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.

Your eye twitched.

You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”

You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.

“So what’s the difference?”

“What?” you scowled.

Yoongi shrugged casually.

“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”

“That’s–”

Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.

Silence.

“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.

Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”

W… What?

Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.

Hold on.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”

They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.

As if…

“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.

As if they had expected to see such a photo.

Click.

You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.

“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”

No way.

“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”

One look at those seven faces and…

YUP.

Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”

You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…

“Oh my God…”

“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.

“I am not!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”

You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!

On purpose!

For what?

FOR FUN!

(GG, no re)

They got you good.

Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.

Oh.

Shit.

Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.

You stared into chocolate eyes.

Innocent.

Or…?

Jungkook’s pout disappeared.

His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.

And then, Jeon Jungkook.

“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.

These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!

You were positively fuming.

Silence.

An owl hooted outside the window.

“YOU PUNKS!”

You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.

-

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[loverrrgirl]

KISMET- Austin Butler x reader - PART 2

If you’re new here, here’s part one

Next part

I’ve never done this before so please feel free to leave me feedback and ideas! Love u!

Minors, please shoo. This is fluff for now but it won’t be forever.

I’m a tired sack and I can’t make a tag list but I love u.

Description: you end up sitting next to Austin on a plane on your way home to a family emergency. Lucky you.

I somehow managed to make it to my gate on time. A miracle. New York traffic is always insane and you never know what you're going to get.

I scanned my boarding pass and made my way to my seat. There was only 2 seats per row and I was assigned the aisle seat. I just really hoped no one would sit next to me so that I could attempt to sleep. Or cry. Or read. Or anything really without anyone trying to make small talk about why I'm traveling. I didn't want to talk about it. Because then i would almost definitely cry. I settled in and got as comfortable as I could. Which was actually pretty comfortable. First class is great, and now I'm not sure I'll ever want to fly anything else.

*ding*

A text from my mom pops up on the screen. Jude is awake. I'm reeling. That's good news right? "Great news mom. Keep me posted. Have to put my phone in airplane mode now. Love you" I typed out. I was rereading my message to make sure it wasn't too short or to the point. I finally decided to send it because I figured no one knows how to act in this situation and there probably wasn't a right way to respond.

I pulled my headphones out and was about to put one in my ear when I was interrupted. A man stood next to me. Oh great. Just what I need in a time like this. Hopefully he falls asleep right away.

"Excuse me? I just need to get in to my seat please" he said to me with a deep, almost raspy sounding voice. He wore a baseball hat with wisps of dirty blonde hair peeking out. He was also wearing a black zip up hoodie and sunglasses. What in the world is he wearing?

"Oh, sure. No problem" i said as i stood up to let him in.

I sat back down to get settled in. Did I mention I really hate flying? I get scared shitless every time. It would be a miracle if I didn't cry during take off. Hopefully this mystery man was passed out by then. He just opened the window and was looking out to watch the ground team load the bags into the aircraft.

We finally started moving and I could feel myself getting more and more anxious. I was trying to not make it noticeable that my breaths were getting faster and tears were burning my eyes. The plane started picking up speed and I grabbed on to the arm rest just so I could squeeze something. I closed my eyes as tight as I could - trying not to look absolutely crazy. The man next to me must have noticed my complete unraveling. He gently tapped my hand. Just about the time I processed he touched me at all I heard "are you okay?" No. I'm clearly not okay. "I just really hate this part. I hate flying at all. This is the worst part I'll be better in a minute" I responded trying not to sound as shaky as I felt. He looked at me for a moment; seemingly trying to figure out how he could help. Sunglasses still on. Just take them off. Is this your serial killer trait? "Well of you think it would help you can squeeze my hand for the rest of the way up" he said in a low voice, leaning closer to me so that others didn't have to hear and realize I was embarrassingly terrified.

I didn't answer him. I was too focused on not having a full blown anxiety attack. It couldn't have been more than a minute later that the plane hit a rough patch of turbulence. I was surely white knuckling the armrest now. The guy next to me grabbed my hand. I think he could sense how scared I was. I decided not to argue with it. His hand was massive compared tomine. He seemed strong. So I just squeezed his hand instead.

Quite a few minutes later I finally peeled my eyes open when I realized we were at cruising altitude and the air smoothed out beneath the plane. I looked down to realize I was still squeezing his hand. Oh my god how embarrassing. I pulled my hand out of his quickly. "I'm so sorry" I muttered nervously. "I didn't even realize I was still doing that." He smiled at me. Okay wait. He has a really cute smile. "No problem. I hope it helped. I used to not like flying so much but I do it so often now, I've gotten used to it" he said.

He seemed nice enough. Maybe making conversation would be better so that I don't have to think about what's going on in my real world.

"I'm Austin" he said, holding his hand back out to me in an invitation to introduce myself. "Stella" I said back with a little smile. But I had to know. "Austin," i said, "why are you wearing sunglasses? On a plane? Where the lights are dimmed?"

He chuckled at me. He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip in a nervous attempt to buy time before he had to give me an answer. He took them off and rubbed his bottom lip again. "Because I usually like to fly in peace. It's some of the only quiet time I get."

Oh. Oh he looks familiar. Oh he looks like Austin Butler. OH. I'm sorry. WHAT?! What a weird turn of events.

"Oh. Well. Don't let me stop you from resting. I brought some headphones and book. I should really be working but I think I'll pretend the wifi isn't working today. Please don't tell my boss!" I chuckled at my own joke. "I usually bring a few things to distract me so I don't have to think about falling out of the sky" I said with a laugh that shifted from my playful chuckle to a nervous laugh.  I hoped he wouldn't think that I was trying to impress him with every thing I said. I honestly thought I would fan girl in a moment like this. Maybe I didn't have it in me emotionally today. Maybe he seemed so down to earth that I saw his humanity before his stardom and that was enough for me.

The first class attendant walked by. He asked if we'd like anything to drink and I very quickly said "mimosa please. With cranberry." He asked for my ID. "Oh, happy almost birthday miss Stella" he said with a large grin and handed me back my card. "Oh. Thank you." I honestly forgot my birthday was tomorrow. It didn't feel like a time to be celebrating. I didn't want to celebrate. "For you?" The attendant asked Austin, breaking my train of thought. "Just water please for me" he said politely.

Ah. A water kind of guy.

Once the attendant came back and gave us our drinks, I took a bigger gulp than I probably should have. I really hate flying. Did I mention that already?

"So are you visiting or going home?" Austin asked me with a little smile sneaking out in the corner of his mouth.

"Visiting. Well, Going home. It's complicated. How about you? Are you going to be in LA for a while? Or just a pit stop for you?" I quickly tried to change the subject off of me. He smirked again. Picking up his short crystal glass and holding it by the rim with just the tips of his fingers. He was fiddling nervously with the cup. I shouldn't have asked. He probably thinks I'm trying to stalk him after this flight. God I hope he doesn't think that. I'm going to be too preoccupied to stalk him. Jesus Christ I should just stop talking.

[yesimwriting]

All The Good Dreams

A/n this one is based on a request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera who requested a fic where General Kirigan has been dreaming of the reader for as long as he can remember and that’s one of his few reasons to smile and the reader has been having the same kinds of dreams about him and when they meet they just know. 

This one is being written in third person bc it’s the only way I can see this fic being done but I’m a little insecure about writing in third person so be gentle lol

Also a little personal update I’ve been working on my original novel and it’s coming together y’all!!

--

ALEKSANDER. 

The morning sunlight seems to only come to take her from him, peaking through the curtains and stirring him awake and away from his dreams. Aleksander keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, trying to will her features to remain in his mind. She had looked more angelic in last night’s dream, dressed in all white and watching him with an adoration he doubted real life could duplicate. 

The girl has haunted his dreams like a ghost of promise since before he began to change the world. Since before anything in his life was solidified. He lets out a sigh, something similar to a smile playing at his lips. Thinking of her would not bring her to him, if he could manifest her, she’d be by his side right now. He has things to do, duties and obligations that will bring his final goal closer. Each day is a step closer to victory, and each night brings the promise of dreams. The promise of her. 

--

Y/N.

“Y/n.” The voice is gentle and distant. “Y/n,” a little harsher. “Wake up, you’ll be late.” 

Fighting against grogginess, y/n wakes up, eyes squinting open. “What time is it, Danna?” 

“Late.” Danna’s reply is curt as she steps away from y/n’s cot. “I thought you were awake already and then I came in to look for my boots and you were still asleep with that ridiculously peaceful look.” Danna paces around the room. “You must have been dreaming of your prince again?” 

Y/n feels her skin warm. “He’s not a prince!” It’s a weak defense. “I regret telling you that almost every time I dream I see the same man.” 

Danna drops down, grabbing her worn boots and pulling them on quickly. “You’re making me believe in soulmates, l/n.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes, sitting up and placing her feet on the ground at her own leisure. “It’s nothing like that--I’m not even sure he exists.” 

Lacing her shoes, Danna narrows her eyes at y/n. “Sure.” Y/n opens her mouth to protest, but Danna beats her to it, “If you need to argue with me, do it while getting dressed, we can’t be late today--General Kirigan’s visiting this camp for the first time and I doubt he’d appreciate being interrupted by a non-Grisha medic.” 

At that, y/n wrinkles her nose, but she stands anyway. “Ugh...Grisha.” She walks towards her uniform. “They can get away with anything and I hear Kirigan’s the worst of all of them because he’s in the same order as the Black Heretic that began all of this.” Y/n pauses, crossing her arms. “And it’s ridiculous that the army even needs non-Grisha medics. Healers exist and they should not be primarily reserved for other Grisha who rarely get injured, especially to the extent that the rest of us do.” 

“I know, y/n, but don’t speak like that until the General is gone.” Danna draws her lips into a thin line. “And hurry up before you get us both in trouble.” 

Y/n lets out a sigh. “Go ahead without me, I’ll catch up.”

Danna eyes her friend wearily. “Alright, worse comes to worse I’ll try to cover for you.” 

“You won’t need to.” Y/n isn’t sure she believes herself. “I’ll be there.” 

Danna pulls on her second boot, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t really believe you.” She stands easily. “But knowing you, you’ll talk yourself out of any trouble the way you always do.” 

“I do not always talk myself out of trouble.” 

Turning to leave, Danna pauses, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes. If she had more time to argue with Danna she would take it. But she doesn’t. She’s quick to get dressed, thoughts of the mysterious stranger from her dreams keeping her company. Last night he seemed more tired than normal, a crease between his dark eyebrows as he sat by her side. A part of her she keeps buried worries about him. It’s ridiculous, to concern yourself over a figment of comfort your mind created for you. 

By the time y/n’s changed, she knows she doesn’t have much time to get to her station. She’s rushing out of her tent, one boot still untied. The medic bag she slings over her shoulder swings as she jogs towards the medical tent. Today the camp is hectic, everyone desiring to appear efficient and reliable for General Kirigan. It’s all ridiculous to Y/n. General Kirigan will never be impressed by them. If he’s revered even among Grisha, Y/n can’t imagine the superiority complex that man must possess.

Her eyes scan the soldiers and workers she knows so well, each of them behaving so differently than normal. There is no friendly chatter this morning, no casual banter. There is only the business of war. 

Y/n watches the people she knows, so focused on their nerves that she barely registers the person she crashes into. “Sorry!” The apology leaves Y/n on instinct.  Her bag falls off her shoulder, gauze and antiseptic falling onto the ground on impact. Y/n bends down instantly, beginning to pick up her supplies. She mentally curses herself for being so easily distracted and not properly shutting her bag this morning. “Everything’s so hectic today and I was running late and I just--I have no idea how I didn’t see you.” She drops her supplies back into her bag. “I guess it’s a good thing they keep me off the battlefield and in the medical tents.” 

Reaching for the last of her supplies, Y/n’s eyes land on the shoes of the person she just crashed into. They’re leather. The fine kind of leather meant for marble halls, not trekking through the unknown. Y/n’s mouth goes dry as the possibility of the graveness of her mistake sets in her mind. She exhales slowly, daring to look upwards as she closes her bag. 

When her eyes meet those of the stranger, she is left with no choice but to gape. She’s not staring because she’s now at the mercy of General Kirigan. She’s not staring because nothing could have prepared her for his beauty. She’s staring because she knows that face. She knows those sharp features and steady eyes.

His lips are slightly parted. Y/n is struck with the odd thought that perhaps he too has words wedged into his throat. 

“It’s you.” The whisper leaves her faintly. 

The words seem to unfreeze Kirigan, his expression moving from shocked to stoic. “Excuse me?” 

Awkward regret floods through Y/n. She drops her head downwards, desperate to escape the power of his gaze. “General Kirigan.” She uses her words as a way to dismiss the emotions her chest seems to be brimming with as she stands. He’s not the man from her dreams. That’s impossible. “I apologize for my inappropriate behavior an--” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head once. Y/n bites her tongue at his dismissal. “You said ‘it’s you.’”

Embarrassment knots her stomach. “I just hadn’t realized that I ran into you, General. I--I knew you were coming today, but I wasn’t expecting to see you much less like this.” 

Kirigan’s eyes seem to be nothing more than inviting pools of kindling emotion. So familiar yet so distinct. He can’t be the man from her dreams. The man from her dreams must be nothing more than a composition of traits she finds generally attractive. General Kirigan just happens to possess those features. That explanation is the only thing that keeps Y/n’s feet rooted to the ground, but the longer she looks at him the more that explanation loses its strength. There’s just something so knowing behind his expression, so specific to the face that she’s only seen while asleep. 

Tearing his gaze away to scan the area, Kirigan reaches forward, placing a hand on Y/n’s arm. The touch leaves Y/n warmer than it should. Maybe that’s why she lets him lead her forward, ducking into an empty medical tent. She keeps hold of her bag as he turns, his eyes full of something dark and unknown. But not angry, Y/n notes, no, not angry. The look is too peaceful for rage, perhaps even hopeful. 

“When you looked at me…” He exhales, voice low and sacred, “You said ‘it’s you’.” Y/n can only blink, still mesmerized by something so foreign and familiar all at once. “Do you know me?” 

In his urgency, Kirigan’s hold on Y/n’s arm becomes more assured. Something in Y/n wants to pry herself free in order to prove to herself that she’s capable of resisting his drawl. But his touch is not to trap her, the look in his eyes tells her that. His touch is pleading--desperate and hopeful. 

“Everyone knows you,” when Y/n finally finds her voice, she is not convinced it is her own. 

The corners of Kirigan’s mouth fall downwards, something in him threatening to deflate. “I meant--have you seen me before?” The question is not one Y/n is too willing to answer. How could she tell this strange man, this general she was convinced she’d dislike on some fundamental level while never speaking to him, that she knows him? She knows him like she knows her own beginning. “Because I’ve seen you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way her eyes widen. This doesn’t mean anything, she warns herself, he could have seen her walking. “I didn’t see you, that--that’s why I ran into you--” 

“No, you’re avoiding the question.” Her face is warmer than it was when Danna was teasing her this morning. It’s warmer than it’s ever been. “Because you’ve experienced it as well.” 

The swelling in her chest is overwhelming. “Experienced what?” 

Kirigan eyes the entrance to the tent once more, confirming that no one is approaching. “All of the good dreams,” he exhales, “They have been of you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way everything in her melts. She’s not insane. She’s not projecting something dangerous onto the Shadow Summoner. “I see you in my dreams always.” 

Slowly, he releases his grip on her arm. Watching her like she might be a mirage, Kirigan raises his hand, brushing his knuckles along Y/n’s cheek. She lets him, holding her breath until his hand falls back to his side. A part of Kirigan expected the girl to be a trick of the light, something that his touch would reveal to be a fallacy. But she remains true, watching him with eyes the size of saucers. 

“How long I’ve been waiting for you, you’ll never know.” His voice is as heavy as a lament. 

Y/n feels her back straighten slightly on instinct, desperate to pass whatever scrutiny is being passed over her. “How--how does this happen? How do two strangers dream of each other for so long and...” 

Something knowing colors his smile a shade of ambitious green. “What is your name?” 

“Y/n.” 

Kirigan’s minds flit through lifetimes worth of faint memories. The girl laughing, the girl teary eyed, the girl embodying all the stars he’ll never have, the girl representing all he needs. Y/n. There’s finally a name to her. 

“Y/n,” the name is a gift. Kirigan pulls a ring from his fingers before grabbing Y/n’s arm. Too lost in a strange euphoria, she lets him pull her arm forward before pressing his ring into her skin. Her brow furrows as he begins to guide the metal down her skin. That slight confusion quickly turns to total shock as a thread of light begins to spindle down her skin, following the path he’s creating with the ring. “You and I are going to change the world.” 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag @kaitlyn2907