#my mouse's right button is uh. not working right

[doodledex-project]

FINALLY got around to doing just my base sketch for Hisuian Decidueye. I have been extremely scatterbrained lately. ._.'

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Minutes

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Being a cam girl isn't as exciting as people think it is, that is until a mystery of a deep voiced man asks you what makes a woman feel good. Warnings: Smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sex work, Din reveals his face, silver dildo, Din's a virgin, premature ejaculation. Banner has nothing to do with appearance of reader, reader has no physical descriptors besides being AFAB. Words: 4,360 Author Note: Happy May the 4th, tell me why I spent all tonight writing this?

Fifteen Masterlst Masterlist

— —

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

$150 for fifteen minutes of staring at someone’s dick, of course you’re going to take it. Usually these calls consist of you rubbing your body and complimenting men you’d never even speak to while you try to recall if you remembered to order caesar dressing with your dinner. You look around your room, you have nothing else to do, your delivery won’t be here for another twenty minutes… you hit accept. 

“Hi babe, how are you tonight?” You smile into the camera, the smile your customers love, sultry bedroom eyes and a small grin. 

“…Good,” he breathes out.

Oh, his voice. You only see a black shirt… nothing else, but that voice is enough for you. 

“Tell me, have you done this before?”

“…No. My first time.”

“Alright, so you have fifteen minutes with me, once the timer is up we’re done and I disconnect. You’re allowed to touch yourself and I will watch you, I will do what you tell me to do within my own comfort, if I choose to end the call because I don’t feel right, then you will be billed the whole amount. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, great. Just so I know what you want before we start what are you interested in tonight?”  

“I’d like to watch you and learn.”

“Learn?”

“Yes, learn, I-I,” he sighs, “I’ve never been with anybody before.”

“Oh.” With that voice? You don’t know what he looks like, but his voice has already turned you on so much you can’t imagine somebody who sounds like that is a virgin. You turn the volume all the way up. “So, you want me to show you what girls like?”

“What a girl like you likes, yes.”

“I can do that for you. I’m going to start the timer now.” 

You know this feeling, the click of the mouse on the green BEGIN button, the lean back to get your body in the whole frame, the spreading of your legs to show your viewer what they really want to see. 

“What do you want me to show baby?” You ask as you run your hand along your neck and down to your breasts.

“Show me what you like when someone has you.”

How are you so turned on by his voice? The way it flows through your speakers, the deep baritone of his serious voice, it does something to you… and it’s just a voice.

“I like when a guy plays with my nipples,” your hands cup your breasts, pulling and massaging them into peaks. “I like when they lick them,” you dribble spit down to your chest, swiping your fingers through it and spreading it across your chest. 

His long exhale massages your body through those damn tinny speakers. Usually by now your  screen is full of your client’s dick, you’ve become very good at staring at the camera, ignoring the tugging and actions on the screen in your peripheral vision. This time, that voice makes you wish you could see him. 

“I like when they drag their hands all over my body,” your hand travels down your stomach to your thighs and back up. 

“I like when they tell me they want to touch my body. Do you want to touch my body?”

“Y-yes.”

“What do you want to touch?”

“E-everywhere, you look like you’re so soft. I want to touch your legs, they look so smooth.”

“I’d like that,” you smile at the camera, “do you want me to touch my pussy for you?” 

“Uh huh.” 

You lay back, spreading your legs wide, dipping your hand down to pet yourself. You’re not surprised to find that you’re already wet, the mysterious man’s deep voice mixed with the desolate black screen and the sight of his black shirt moving as he breathes is enough for you.

You wonder how old he is, what he looks like, why he chose your room, why he’s obviously not touching himself. He’s a mystery you want to figure out. You welcome the luxury of not having to pretend you like what you see. You like knowing that this total stranger is sitting in a dark room only focusing on you.

You rub a finger against your clit, your hips rising at the feel of the pressure against your sensitive nub.

“I like when they can feel how wet they make me.” You glue your eyes to the camera letting out a moan while your finger teases your clit. “I like when they dip a finger in my cunt and bring my juices up to my clit. Feels really good as they rub me with my wet.”

Your finger dips down to your entrance, sliding it into yourself. “Ohh baby, I am so wet for you,” you moan as you begin to fuck yourself. 

Your other hand begins its descent down your body until it reaches your pussy. It works over your clit as you fuck yourself slowly, your cunt already clenching around your singular finger. 

You’re so turned on right now, the excitement of this black screen, the knowledge that he picked your picture and trusts you to show him what makes you feel good. 

“You’re pretty quiet over there, you good?”

“Y-yes. I like watching you.”

“Why’d you choose me?” you slip another finger in with a moan. “Couldn’t you just have watched a video?”

“I wanted to see it for real. Is it for real?”

“With you, yes.”

You don’t know what it is about his voice. Why are you getting off on the mystery? 

“Are you touching yourself?” You never have to, nor want to, ask, but you want to know this time. 

“No,” he sighs, “I want to focus, I don’t want any distractions.”

“Okay, that’s okay baby,” you give him an understanding smile as you begin canting your hips up to pump yourself harder. 

Five minute warning. The red box pops up on the screen. You’re too focused on your bliss to close the warning. You’re always so good at turning off the video vixen and going right into businesswoman mode but tonight, you just want to make this stranger feel satisfied. 

“I really like it when my pussy is stuffed with a cock, I love feeling the stretch and I love when my hole is stuffed so full.”

You hear his deep groan. You can’t hide the smile on your face.

“Ohhh, you liked that didn’t you? How would you take me if you were here with me? Let me know baby, tell me.”

“I-I’d want to fuck you as I looked in your eyes, you have beautiful eyes and lips, I want to kiss you while I fuck you.”

“Oh,” a chill blooms through your body at how gentle his words are. Most men are crass and too forthcoming with their fantasies, never soft, most of their answers just turn into white noise. His answer is going to stay with you. “I like when a guy wants me to cum all over their cock, I love the feeling of my cunt pumping around a hard cock as I orgasm. I’m close, do you want me to cum for you?”

“Please, yes.”

His voice, you can’t stress this enough, his voice is so fucking hot. Your body begins to feel feverish as the loud squelch of your fingers working your cunt faster and harder gets louder. You hardly ever cum during these sessions, especially when you use just your hands, needless to say, you’re really good at pretending. 

You love your job, you really do, it allows so much freedom and pays well, but some nights are so monotonous and boring. Tonight seemed like one of those nights, until you accepted this call. Tonight you’re going to cum.

Your orgasm hits you hard, back arching, limbs tightening, eyes fluttering as a rush of slick soaks your fingers. You pant for air as you come down, slipping your fingers out and resting a hand on your chest. 

The countdown begins in the corner of your screen 60, 59, 58…

“Time’s about up,” you whisper as you sit up, “I hope I helped you.”

“Y-you did. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.” 

He disconnects.

Your account shows $250 extra. He’s an excellent tipper and you actually came for him. You really love your job tonight. 

——

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

The way, the way, the way. You’ve thought about him for the past week, wondering if he joined any other room, if he chose someone else over you. All you know about him is he owns a black shirt and has never been with anybody… and yet you’ve thought about him every single day since. Have you crossed his mind? You sure hope so because he picked you again tonight. Your heart beats faster as you try to hide the smile when you hit the accept button. 

“Hi again,” you grin. 

This time there’s a light on behind him, you can just make out the broadness of his shoulders, really fucking broad, he’s in a black shirt again, but thanks to the light you can see he has golden skin.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you," he shyly says.

Goodness you’re so thankful for that light, you can see the way his chest moves when he talks. There’s tiny peek of his toned neck at the top of the screen, you pray he dips lower exposing his face. His voice is just how you remembered it, low and bassy, you’re already getting wet at the anticipation of hearing more.

“I can see a little more of you now,” you wink, “I like it.”

“Heh,” he chuckles, it's the first time you’ve heard him laugh. His hand comes into frame and scratches his chest. It’s beautiful and large, his fingers are thick, you wonder what they’d feel like against your skin.

“I have to give you the same spiel even though you’re a repeat. Once again, you have fifteen minutes with me once it’s up, I disconnect. Please feel free to touch yourself for me and I’ll do what you want as long as I am okay with it. I’ll hang up if I don’t feel comfortable. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Wonderful. Are you going to touch yourself for me tonight?”

“Uh, n-no, not yet.”

“That’s okay, I’m happy to do the work for you. You want me to use my hands, or do you want me to use a toy?”

“Do you have anything shaped like a-a—uh, a—“

“A dick?”

“Yeah.”

“I do. You want to watch me fuck myself with a cock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll grab my favorite one just for you.”

You roll over and pick up your “briefcase” of sex toys, grabbing your favorite, the silver toned dildo. It’s thick, it vibrates, and it fits your cunt just right. 

“Is this what you want to watch me fuck myself with?”

“Ye—“ he clears his throat. “God, yes.”

You giggle. “Okay, I’m starting the timer now.” 

You tap the button. Fifteen minutes of him.  

“What do you want from me baby? You want to see how this cock looks in my mouth?”

“Yes,” he strangles out.

“You want me to pretend it’s your cock?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“L-lick it.”

You smile, leaning closer to the camera as you bring the dildo up to your lips, sticking your tongue out and swirling it around the tip, your eyes focused on the screen, not the camera… the screen. You want another glimpse of his skin. 

“Mm, wish I could taste you. You think you’re leaking for me right now baby?”

You lick a line down to the base and back up. 

“I bet you’re so warm and soft there,” you whisper against the tip before opening your mouth and sucking it. You hollow your cheeks as you take the dildo in deeper, eyes widening and tearing as it hits the back of your throat. 

“Fuuuuck,” he leans back farther in his chair his chin comes into sight, well trimmed facial hair, strong chin, you know he has to be beautiful. 

You can’t stop looking at him, you don’t even know his name, where he lives, what he does, why in the hell he’s still a virgin. 

Drool escapes your lips as you fuck your mouth moaning around the silver latex. 

Most of the time this job isn’t the greatest, you usually find yourself going through the motions, moving on to the next client, the next responsibility. Sure, sometimes you really connect with a watcher, sometimes you look forward to the name appearing knowing you’ll actually really enjoy the session, but most of the time, you deal and move on. It’s business. Sure as hell beats sitting in a cubicle. With this stranger, this puzzle you’re slowly figuring out? You love your job. 

“Want to see my pussy take this cock now baby?”

“Please.”

You nod, leaning back and spreading your legs open. 

“Do you feel safe telling me your name? I want to say your name as I get fucked by your cock.” 

“Ye—fuck yes. It’s Din.”

“Diiiiiiin,” you moan, as you begin to pump the silver cock in and out of you. It moves smoothly, you’re soaking wet for him, only due to his voice and whatever sights the light of the lamp wants to bless you with. 

Din. Three letters. Simple. Direct. Unique. Strong. 

“Oh Din, you feel so good in me baby, like how I take your cock? Tell me baby, talk to me, I want to hear you.”

“Yes. God, you’re so beautiful.”

“You’re so big, you’re stinging me so good. You like how my pussy looks stretched around you?”

“Yes, I-I do.”

“I feel desperate, so desperate for you. I love how you feel inside me. What are you looking at baby? Can’t see your eyes, what are you watching me do right now? Where are you focused?”

“On your face. I like watching the way you bite your lip as you f-fuck yourself.” 

God, he still sound so nervous. So new. He can’t be too young, not with that body.

“What color eyes do you have, Din?”

“Brown, b-brown eyes.”

“Mm, I like brown eyes, I bet you’re real handsome all brown eyed and tan skin. Now, have those brown eyes watch my pussy baby, watch how I take you. You can look at my face as I cum for you, Din. Right now I want you to look at my cunt. Are you hard for me Din? Are you as hard as the cock I’m fucking myself with?’

“Yes.”

The five minute warning box shows up again, this time it’s your nemesis that you ignore.

“Do you imagine a pussy as wet as mine when you get yourself off?” 

“Y-yes.”

“Did you make yourself cum after our last session?”

“Yes,” he chokes out, “right after, I-I jerked off.”

“Did you think about me?” Your voice coming out with more curiosity than you’d like. 

“I did, and every time since.”

Your body shivers from his words, “That’s a good boy Din, I like that,” you smile as your hips raise off the bed to meet your quickening thrusts fucking yourself harder.

He groans, long and low.

“I’m going to cum for you, Din,” you pant. ”I’m going to cum on your cock and then I’m going to lick myself up off of you, okay?”

“Fuck, yes.” 

You chant Din’s name as you pound your pussy, tingles shooting through you as you orgasm. You haven’t cum like this on camera in a long time. It’s devastating that not every one of your clients can be Din. 

You stretch your limbs out as you come down from your climax.

“God damn,” you giggle, “that was really fucking good.”

You slowly take the dildo out and bring it to your lips, raising your eyebrow at him and resting the tip against your lips.

“Yes, please, yes,” he growls.

You lick yourself off the silver latex, sucking your juices from the top, smiling as your mouth forms around it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Din’s voice edges you on.

“Mmm, Din, I taste so good, look how fucking shiny I made your dick.”

“Goooooood, fuck,” he pants, “you’re so pretty, fuck. Fuck, I-I-I I’m going to cum.”

The one minute countdown shows up at the worst time. You quickly lean forward and hit IGNORE, DO NOT CHARGE EXTRA.

“Cum for me Din, cum for me,” you try to disguise your prideful smile behind the silver dildo. 

The groans he lets out as he cums, the way his neck stretches as he angles his head up… it’s all you get, but it’s enough to keep you thinking about him at any chance you get. 

Sometimes a self esteem boost can be as simple as somebody complimenting your shoes or an attractive person giving you a friendly nod… this boost isn’t nearly as simple. Din just came in his pants just for you, without even touching himself.

“I’ve never done that, sorry,” his voice dripping with shame.

“No, Din, baby, no. I really liked it. A lot. I’m glad I could make you feel that way. Really.”

“You’re really… sweet, you know that?”

“I suppose I can be. Depends on the person,” you wink.

“I—uh, think I’m over my time.”

“You are, but I’m not going to charge you for it.”

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. Don’t be a stranger, Din.”

“I won’t.”

He disconnects. You lay back on your bed and grin at your ceiling. 

——

THEWAY would like to chat. Accept?

“Din,” you smile as the familiar black shirt appears on your screen. Thank god, the lamp is on. “It’s only been three days.”

“I know, I-I wanted to see you.”

“That’s good, I wanted to see you too.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you these past few days,” he pauses, “I’m sorry, i-is that okay?”

“Oh, of course it is. I’ve thought about you too baby.”

“You say that for everyone?”

“I do, but this time I mean it. Now, you know I have to give you the same base instructions. Fifteen minutes and then I disconnect. You can touch yourself, I’ll do what you want as long as I am okay with it. I’ll hang up if I don’t feel right. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Good, so what do you want tonight?”

“Yeah, I, uh, want to um—will you watch me tonight?”

“Of course baby, I’d be happy to.”

“Okay, yeah, thanks.”

You shake your head and laugh. “No need to thank me, I’m always happy to help you. I was really happy to see your name. So you want me to watch you tonight? Do you want me to do anything else for you?”

“Just, touch yourself and talk to me like you do. I-I’ve never done something like this, nobody has ev—nobody’s seen me like this before.”

He sounds so fragile, you want to take care of him.

“You want me to use a toy or my hand?”

“Just your hand.” 

“Okay baby, I’ll use my hand. I’ll start the timer.” You softly whisper the last part, trying to ignore that at the end of the day he’s is just your client.

He moves the computer farther away, new views are unlocked. His stomach, his crotch, his thick thighs all clad in black. 

You click the start timer button. Fifteen minutes left of this view. Fifteen minutes left of Din. 

You lean back and spread your legs to show him your already wet cunt. 

“Want me to play with my pussy for you? Get you nice and hard so you can fuck yourself until you cum for me?”

“Yes,” he hisses. His hand moves down to grip his crotch. 

Fuck, that sends a wave of pleasure through your body as one of your hands spreads your folds wide open.

“Do you see how fucking wet I am Din? How turned on I am by you, I don’t even know how you look, but you drive me crazy.”

He groans as he squeezes his bulge.

“I love how you groan, I wish I could feel it against my pussy while you eat me. I bet you’d lick me so well.”

“I want to taste you, fuck.”

“I want you to test me too. Now, go ahead, take your shirt and pants off. I want to see the rest of you.”

He quickly removes his shirt. God damnit, he’s perfect. Tan chest, tan stomach, the perfect amount of hair running from his chest to his stomach, down to where he’s currently unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. You can’t believe your eyes, as he lifts his hips to move the fabric down. Everything about him is big and strong. Lean, but filled out in all the right places. Strong and soft. How the fuck is he still a virgin? Your mouth waters at the sight of his erection now barely hiding behind the thin black fabric of his briefs. 

“Din,” you begin to rub circles around your clit, happy for the pressure, “you look so good for me, let me see your cock. Let me stare at it, you want me to see your cock?”

“Yes.”

He’s such a man of few words, you love it. His words are simple, straightforward, efficient, just like his name. Din.

He pulls his boxers down, his cock springs up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’s rock hard, pulsing, golden toned, leaking from the tip, all surrounded by dark brown hair, you knew he had dark hair. He’s HUGE.

“Din, you’re fucking beautiful baby, I can’t believe it,” you gasp. “Fuck yourself for me, I can’t wait to see you cum all over your beautiful skin for me.”

His fist wraps around his shaft, you’ve seen some pretty hot things in your line of work. You’ve had some really attractive clients call in, but right now? Right now is the hottest thing you’ve ever been blessed to witness. Din stroking his cock for you, watching his stomach move with each breath he takes. You’re too focused on him to realize your finger has been paused on your clit since he first unsheathed his cock. 

“Fuck, Din, you’re making me forget what I’m doing, you look so good. I can’t believe it.” 

He groans, his grip tightens at the tip as he fucks himself. 

“Something about seeing you like this, hearing you moan and groan for me,” your finger runs a line back and forth between your hole and your clit. “It just does something to me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

He lets out a strangled grunt raising his hips and pumping his hand faster, “I-I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

“That’s good baby, watching you is already making me want to fucking cum,” you stick two fingers in, your cunt already fluttering around them. 

“Wh-what would you do if I was with you right now fu—fucking you?”

“I’d kiss you,” your other hand travels down to begin circling around your clit, “I’d kiss your strong neck, I’d lick into your mouth and taste you. Wrap my hands around your big arms and hold on as your big cock destroys my pussy.”

“Goddddd,” he whimpers, “I-I’d like that.” His hand becoming a blur on your screen as he strokes quicker. 

The stupid five minute warning pop up shows up. You’re getting real good at ignoring it with him.

“You like that I’m about to cum on your cock? You really do something to me Din, I can’t believe how quick and hard you make me cum.”

His hips begin bucking into his first, the chair he’s on squeaking as he rapidly moves up and down. You love hearing the sound of him fucking himself mixed with the sound of you fucking yourself. 

“I’m going to cum baby,” he grunts, he called you baby.

Your eyes widen as you watch him spurt white ropes of his cum all over his stomach and thighs. There’s so much. 

Your cunt begins to spasm around your fingers as your climax crashes through you.

“Din, you feel so good. You came so good,” you gasp as you orgasm, trying to keep your shaking legs wide for him to watch. You pant for air as you get your bearings back, you’re obsessed with how this comedown feels. 

“That was amazing Din,” you smile, “not to be too forward, which is a funny thing to say right now, but you look really good.”

“Wow,” he laughs, “thank you. I feel the same way about you.” Your smile widens, you bet his face is so handsome when he laughs.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how in the hell are you a virgin with a dick like that?”

“Some weird religion stuff… I’m no longer a part of. Long story, maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

“I’d like that.”

The one minute timer shows its ugly head. 

“Fuck, we have a minute left,” you frown. “I, uh, would you take my number?” Now it’s your turn to feel nervous. 

“Y-yes. Sure.”

You lean forward and type your number into the chat box. 

“Please call me here next time you want to… talk with me.”

“I will.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Din.”

“I won’t.”

He disconnects.

——

DIN DJARIN WANTS TO FACETIME 

You almost drop your phone at the name. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your heart begins to beat loudly against your chest. You click accept, and this time you really almost drop your phone. 

His face, you knew it… he’s beautiful.

“Hi,” he shyly smiles.

“Hi. Y-you’re gorgeous?”

He laughs, his big brown eyes disappearing behind the crinkles of his eyes. “If you say so.”

“I do. I’m so glad you called me.”

“I am too,” his smile is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

Sometimes you love your job, especially when it brings someone like Din Djarin into your life. 

___

Hi! Here's the next installment for these two. Fifteen Weeks

[antsday]

in the palm of your hand

[i was re-reading @habken's incredible scammers to lovers au and wrote this short fic. I really love their work and couldn't help myself lmaoo. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!]

-

“Hi! Can I help you with- oh,” says the angel from the IT department, spinny chair swiveling to a stop. “It’s you again.”

The first week Katsuki had come in, Deku had been relatively understanding and chipper- bright and sunny and shit. More personal than the strained smile and forced cheer that most customer service workers spoke with- of course I’ll fix your laptop, no problem, just leave it to me. 

Now, about three weeks later he looks at Katsuki like he’s just bitten into a lemon. As in, like Katsuki had come into the IT department, looked Deku in the eye, bit into a lemon, and then made a puckered up face and writhed in discomfort and then showed up with another lemon the next day, rinse and repeat for nearly a month. A complicated mix of intrigue and confusion and mild horror at this endless display of masochism.

Which is fair; there really is no other way to look at a top ten Pro Hero who repeatedly comes in to have his laptop fixed and won’t admit under penalty of death that it was because he clicked a pop-up in hopes of having a proper conversation with a dreamy IT guy. Not that Dreamy IT guy in question knows about all of that, but whatever. If Katsuki was in Deku’s position, he would also be worried about the fact that the safety and integrity of the public was left in the hands of guys who can’t stop getting scammed by obvious pop-up ads. 

“Your laptop’s broken again?” Deku says incredulously, as if reading Katsuki’s mind. His voice is really nice, even when he sounds confused as shit. Smooth and soft like- like a satin pillowcase. Or something. Whatever. It’s not like they pay him to be good with words. 

Then again, it’s not like they pay him to (unsuccessfully) flirt with the guy he’s normally supposed to see once a month max, but here he was. 

“Yeah,” says Katsuki, like he said two days ago, and then three days before that, and for the past month. It’s easier to say than I got a pop-up ad for a BL manga and I am ninety percent sure the twink on the cover was just a recolor of Sasuke Uchiha and I clicked it because I’m a fucking dumbass and I needed an excuse to keep coming in here and gazing into your dreamy-ass eyes. If you even care. 

He’s surprised Deku’s even asking. He’s been consistently coming in here for exactly the same reason: his laptop ‘mysteriously’ got a virus and now he needs it fixed. He’ll be back to pick it up soon, no, he’s not getting a new laptop, no, he’s not sure what happened, no, he’s not going to install some fancy-ass ad-blocker because he doesn’t want to (and it would get rid of his excuse), and Deku’s never asked this but yes, he would love to go get dinner sometime, he’s free today and tomorrow and the day after that and the rest of his life, forever, actually- 

“...Did you,” Deku begins, like he’s searching for the right words. “Uh. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Any idea at all?” 

I gazed into the dead-eyed stare of poorly-recolored Sasuke’s green eyes and thought of you because your eyes are also green, and less unnerving to look at, and the more I thought about that the more my mouse moved away from the ‘x’ button and the next thing I know, I have a virus and my desire to carnally hold your hand has overpowered any other logical thought. That’s what happened. 

“No,” Katsuki says belatedly. “Fuck. Look, can you fix it or not?” 

“Of course,” says Deku. He’s still got that little furrow in his brow. Katsuki wants to bite at it like taffy- which, is a weird fucking thing to think, scratch that- “Just- give it over, and I’ll be sure to have it ready for you in a little while.”

“Cool.” He holds out his laptop. It’s reminiscent of when he was four and showing off the cool rhinoceros beetle he caught to his mom. He’s internally beaming with pride at his success so far, and Deku’s got that same baffled, borderline horrified expression that his mom did. 

Although, that particular interaction ended with the thing flying out of his hands and into his mom’s cardigan and with him getting yelled at, so, maybe it’s not the ideal scenario to compare this to.

 But this encounter will end differently. He’s got a grip on the rhinoceros beetle, now. He just has to play his cards right. 

“So,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks so Deku won’t see how fucking sweaty they are. “You’ll have it ready by lunch tomorrow?” 

Deku takes the laptop and tilts his head. “Uh. Yeah, I will. In fact, I can get it to you earlier than that-”

“I’ll be busy for the rest of the day,” Katsuki lies. All his incident reports are done, and he’s got the night shift on patrol tomorrow. “You’re done by 2 tomorrow, right?”

“...Yes?”

“Great. Look, I have to stop at that fucking- crepe place, down the street, right,” he says, praying to every God there is that he looks cool and casual and not like a ‘Deranged Goblin Man’, as the Hero Times described him a few months ago. “So. When you get off work you should meet me there. At the crepe place. Tomorrow. At two pm.”

He doesn’t know what’s worse- the fact that he’s really doing this, being reduced to the same sort of emotional sap he would have made fun of only five years ago; or the fact that Present Mic’s lessons on subtlety and hidden meanings in text were actually good for something. 

Look at him, effortlessly weaving together words to create sentences with underlying motives. He’s like a modern-day Shakespeare. He’s golden. He’s killing it. Bakugou Katsuki, master of words. He’s on cloud-fucking-nine. He’s-

…aaaaand Deku isn’t responding. 

Deku blinks. He opens his mouth. Closes it. He sets the laptop down, staring up at Katsuki intently, and Katsuki starts to sweat. 

You are Bakugou Katsuki, he reminds himself. You might be down bad, but you’re not weak. It will not kill you if he rejects you. Well, it’ll kill you a little. But not that much. 

“At the crepe pla- to give you the laptop, right?” says Deku slowly. His face is turning bright red. Katsuki goes a little weak in the knees. 

“Sure, yeah,” Katsuki says half-heartedly. “Look, if you want, I could. I dunno. Fucking- buy you a crepe or something. As payment.” 

He’s so smooth. Eat your fucking heart out, Dunce Face. ‘Zero game’, his ass. 

“Sure,” Deku says, scratching the back of his neck, smile just a tad bit shy. His face is still mildly flushed. Katsuki swoons (and does his best to not let it show on his face). “I- uh. I’d like that. I guess.” 

“Cool,” says Katsuki. “Cool. Great. Okay, bye. Be there or else. Bye. See you.”

He turns on his heel and power walks out of the room, not once looking back, even when Pigtails nearly crashes into him or when Deku makes a noise suspiciously like he’s slamming his head against the desk. He walks out of the room, into the hallway, back to his own office.

The door slams shut behind him. He takes a deep breath. Squeezes his eyes shut. A breathlessly excited grin forces his way onto his face, and he pumps his fists, victorious. 

He's got a date.

part one/part two

[ryngzmn]

₊˚ෆ | moving up | S.B (2)

SUMMARY: After you helped him learn how to use a mobile phone, Ben comes to you a few days later so he can learn how to use a laptop.

WORD COUNT: 818.

WARNINGS: not proofread, little bit of swearing, maybe OOC Ben???, use of Y/N (only once).

A/N: a few people suggested I make this a series where reader teaches Ben how to use various pieces of modern technology and I LOVED that idea so here I am with my first series<3. also literally could not come up with a title so I js decided on some basic one…

part one! | part three! | part four! | part five!

Ever since you forced helped Ben work a mobile phone, you realized he started being a little nicer to you.

He didn’t call you names as often and he didn’t yell at you whenever you didn’t refer to him as his super name.

You didn’t ask him about it since you thought that if you did, he’d go back to his bitchy self.

—————————————————————————

Butcher and the others had just left for yet another mission that Butcher didn’t let you go on.

Apparently, he had also noticed how Ben seemed to be a little nicer to you compared to the rest of The Boys.

You didn’t necessarily mind not going on mission and risking injuries, per say, but it got a little boring constantly being told to stay back and watch Ben to make sure he doesn’t blow something up.

Right now, you were sitting at a random desk that was placed in the makeshift hideout, just minding your own business.

Well, you were minding your own business until you heard Ben’s booming voice speak up as he approached you.

“Hey, Y/N.” You raised your head and looked in his direction.

The first thing you noticed was the laptop tucked firmly under his arm. You raised an eyebrow, wondering whose it was since Ben obviously didn’t know how to work a laptop.

“Whose laptop is that, Ben?” You questioned skeptically.

“It’s Hughie’s.” Ben said smugly, throwing a thumb over his shoulder and gesturing to the now empty desk that once had Hughie’s laptop on it before he left.

“Seriously, Ben—“ Before you could protest further, Ben grabbed a chair and placed it next to yours, putting the laptop between you.

“Teach me how to use this thing.” Ben said in a slightly demanding tone.

You rolled your eyes and opened it, noting how Hughie surprisingly didn’t use a password in his laptop.

“Okay, well..” You sighed and looked over at Ben, pointing at the smooth squared area below the keyboard that you were dragging your finger on.

“This is how you drag the cursor. You can also plug in a mouse instead of using that.” Ben just stared at you, his forehead creased.

“A mouse? Why the fuck would you plug in a mouse to a laptop?”

You shook your head, shoulders slumping a bit.

“Not an actual mouse. Like a, uh…” You found yourself stumped on how to explain so you turned back to the laptop and opened the web browser.

“This is the web browser, there’s multiple of these but it looks like Hughie just uses Google. This is where you look stuff up.”

You quickly typed in the word laptop mouse and then turned the screen towards him.

“This is what I meant by mouse. It’s basically a different way to move the cursor.”

Ben nodded before looking at you again. “What’s a cursor?”

You pointed to the small white arrow that was in the middle of the screen. “That’s the cursor.”

“Oh, okay.” Ben moved the laptop closer to him and started snooping through Hughie’s apps and messages.

“Ben-“ You frowned, gently taking the laptop away from him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ben scoffed and mumbled something close to “party pooper” under his breath before he snatched the laptop back.

“I jus’ wanna do something real quick.” He mused, going to Hughie’s messages and scrolling until he found Butcher’s contact.

“What are you doing?” Ben held up a finger to silence you before he started typing something.

You shook your head in disappointment as you read what Ben was trying to send to Butcher.

‘I hate you, you stupid British fuck’

After clicking the send button, Ben laughed boisterously, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see Butcher’s reaction to that message.”

“He’ll probably know it’s you.” You butt in, arms crossed across your chest like an angry parent.

Ben let out a defiant huff. “No he won’t, he’ll totally think Hughie sent it and then chew him a new one.”

—————————————————————————

Eventually, when everyone got back after you taught Ben how to maneuver through a laptop some more, Butcher saw the text and showed it to Hughie.

You sat back with Ben and watched as the color drained from Hughie’s face in a horrific expression.

“I didn’t send that!” He started defending himself immediately, making various points on how the time didn’t match up and how he would never say that to Butcher.

Butcher chuckled before turning to you and Ben, you didn’t hesitate to rat Ben out.

“It was his idea. I was just showing him how to work a laptop.” Ben shot you a glare as you were glad looks couldn’t kill because you’d definitely be dead meat right now.

It was safe to say that instead of Butcher chewing Hughie a new one, it was Ben on the receiving side of Butcher’s scolding.

—————————————————————————

reblogs n feedback r appreciated! <3

[redrosydiaz]

daily drabble day 38 Extended Edition™

find the original drabble here!

The lion pounces as soon as they enter the building.

“Oh, hi, Eddie,” Sheila from the PTA drawls, surprise filtered over her words like it’s a shock to be running into each other at their children’s school. Her sticky pink lips curl into something too familiar. “What brings you here?”

Beside him, Buck masks his laugh as a cough into his hand. Not that he really needs to hide it, when Sheila hasn’t even acknowledged him.

Eddie resists the urge to roll his eyes, and he swallows down the sarcastic, “What brings me here? To my son’s school? Which lets out in fifteen minutes? Oh, you know, just thought I’d get in a light jog.”

Instead, Eddie pastes a polite (curt, Buck would call it, and— shut up, Buck) smile and tells her simply, “Paperwork.”

The shortness of his answer catches her off guard, which almost does make him laugh this time, because when has he ever indulged her like that? Really, Sheila, you should know better by now.

Eddie capitalizes on her falter, though, and seizes his chance to escape before he’s subject to more stilted conversation and— attempted flirting. Her poor husband.

His hand curls around Buck’s bicep, and he tugs him along, towards the front desk. “If you’ll excuse us,” he says, making pointed eye contact with Buck as they pass Sheila.

Amusement sparkles in Buck’s eyes and twitches the corner of his lips, and he twists around to throw a wave Sheila’s way. “Nice talking with you, Sheila,” he says brightly, despite exchanging not one single word with her.

Eddie only just manages to stifle his laugh into his own shoulder.

When they make it to the desk, Eddie lets go of Buck and leans his forearm onto the counter.

“Hi, Louise,” he greets the school’s administrator with an easy smile.

Louise, the bespectacled redhead who works the front office, returns the smile. “Hi there, Mr. Diaz,” she says warmly. Her gaze strays towards Buck. “Mr…”

“Buckley,” he fills in. “Hi.”

“Hi, Mr. Buckley,” she says, just as kind. “What can I help you boys with today?”

Eddie taps his fingers arhythmically against the laminate. “I’d like to update Christopher’s approved pickup list, if that’s not too much trouble.” He lifts his free hand and settles it against the join of Buck’s shoulder and neck, his thumb finding its home over Buck’s collar. “We’ve got to get Buck here added.”

Louise nods diplomatically. “Not too much trouble at all,” she responds before squinting towards the computer screen. She taps a few keys, then looks back up. “Just three easy questions for you,” she tells Buck before jumping right in. “First up, full name?”

“Evan Buckley,” Buck says. “But, uh, I go by Buck.”

“Great. Phone and or email address?”

Buck rattles them both off.

Louise pushes her glasses up her nose. “Finally, relation to Christopher?”

Buck hesitates. “Oh, uh—”

Eddie doesn’t. “Parent,” he cuts in smoothly. Squeezes Buck’s shoulder.

“Wonderful,” Louise says, filling in the last answer. She moves the mouse, clicks a few buttons. Then, “Alright, Mr. Buckley,” she says brightly, “there shouldn’t be any issues for you and Christopher at pickup time now. Let me just go grab you the parking pass for your car and you’ll be all set.”

“Thank you,” Buck says. Then he waits for her to step away from the desk before he turns to Eddie. “Parent?” He asks quietly. 

Eddie shrugs. Doesn’t lower his voice. “You are.”

Something flickers over Buck’s face — soft and warm and pleased — and the corner of his mouth twitches up. His eyes shift past Eddie’s shoulder, though, towards Sheila, who’s still in the front office, lingering not-so-subtly near the bulletin board — the gossip fiend. When he fixes his gaze back onto Eddie, some of the light has faded, just a bit.

“The PTA will talk,” Buck tries to joke.

Eddie shrugs. Thinks, fuck it. His hand slides down Buck’s arm until he can press his palm purposefully into Buck’s. Until he can fold their fingers together. “Let them,” he says, steady and sure.

Buck’s inhale stutters, catches in his throat, and for a moment, he looks a little overwhelmed.

Maybe it is a lot, the parent bomb and the sudden… taste of Eddie’s— feelings… all at once. But Buck’s a part of their life, a big part of their life, and he deserves to know that. To be shown, in every way. And besides, Eddie isn’t going anywhere. If Buck needs— a second, a minute, any stretch of time, to wrap his head around it all, Eddie will be there for him to lean on.

Louise returns then with the parking pass. “Here you go,” she says, holding it out.

Eddie takes it on Buck’s behalf. “Thanks, Louise,” he says.

“Of course,” Louise returns. “You two have a great day, okay? And Christopher as well!”

“You too,” Eddie smiles.

He’s still holding Buck’s hand as they turn for the exit. He doesn’t let go.

When he looks over at Buck, there’s something more settled about him, and that soft smile is back on his face. Eddie squeezes his hand, and the smile grows.

They have to pass Sheila again, on their way to the door. She’s given up on her attempt at subtlety, openly staring now, at their joined hands.

As they walk by, Eddie bares his teeth in an overly-friendly smile. “Bye, Sheila,” he says.

She startles, eyes jerking up to Eddie’s face, an embarrassed flush in her cheeks. She fishmouths, like she can’t quite figure out what to say.

She doesn’t have to, though, because Buck pipes up next. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Sheila,” he grins.

Then winks.

And Eddie absolutely can’t hold his laugh back this time, all but yanking Buck right out the door so he can let it fly into the open air and sunshine.

Buck curls towards him, his own laughter spilling out too.

“The PTA is definitely going to talk now,” Eddie muses, and the thought kind of thrills him a little.

Buck’s eyes sparkle. “Good,” he says. “Let them.”

[sunflowerwinds]

a confession & question [h.c]

summary: your girlfriend finally tells you what she’s been keeping from you and it is nothing like what you were expecting. hazel asks you to come to an event that tony is throwing and you go on a fancy shopping trip (funded by stark industries).

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: spider!hazel, secrets revealed, mature content: suggestive making out, & pure fluff!

word count: 3.8K

a/n: things are brewing and they’ve made up. i hope absolutely nothing bad happens :)

SPIDER-HAZEL MASTERLIST

It had been merely a day without contact with Hazel. You were battling between writing assignments for your online classes and stuffing bears at Build-A-Bear that day wondering how to approach this situation the correct way. There was no way in hell you were going to break up with her but you wanted to truthfully and honestly sit down and have a long talk about how she was feeling.

To hear her out, to be there for her in whatever way she needed.

Hazel was a mess. She didn’t attend classes that day — which had May up the wall — as she stayed in bed sulking over being an absolute idiot. She was sleeping curled in her soft brown sheets and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was thinking of ways to apologize to you and reveal what has been itching at her for months now; that she was in fact Spider-Woman.

Should she just send a text saying: ‘I’m Spider-Woman. Please, believe me?’

No, that’s weird and pathetic.

She needs to do it in person so she can prove it to her with her suit. But when? Hazel checked her phone every two minutes in hopes your little icon would be there with a message.

It was around 4 pm when she had received a call from Josie. Hazel was pacing her ceiling in her suit, practicing on ways to show you that she was Spider-Woman. She ripped her mask off and aimed her web to her cell-phone on her desk, pressing the green button to accept the call.

“Hey, Jose. What’s up?” Hazel answered, a soft sigh leaving her lips from the tension and pressure building in her head from being upside down for a good while.

“Well, good afternoon to you. Why the hell do you sound like you’ve run three miles in ten minutes?” Josie questioned as her fingers typed rapidly on her keyboard from the other end.

Hazel grunts as she un-sticks herself from her popcorn ceiling to land on her wood floors. She runs a free hand through her unwashed frizzy hair, shrugging her shoulders.

“Just… hanging around,” she makes herself smile.

“Okay?” Josie responded. “Is that a spider joke?”

Hazel was still grinning as she replied: “Yup.”

Even though Josie knew it was a corny joke, she couldn’t help the snort leaving her lips.

“Anyways, uh, Happy told me to call you to remind you about this Sunday.” Josie hummed as she clicked her mouse buttons.

Hazel’s brows furrowed at Josie’s words. Her mind went completely blank.

“Jesus, you forgot didn’t you?” Josie sighed at how silent the spider-girl had gotten after her statement.

Hazel winces as she rushes over to her calendar for the month that was hung up above her working desk. Her eyes darted to the coming-up Sunday and there was just a tuxedo that she drew. What the fuck does that mean?

When does she ever wear a tuxedo?

“No…?”

Josie released another disappointed sigh.

“The charity event Tony is having for Heart Matters. Happy is supposed to take you shopping for an outfit on Friday.” Josie hummed which made Hazel mouth ‘fuck’ as she rubbed at her temple.

Okay, so two things she really needed to do.

“Right, yeah. No, I have a tuxedo on my calendar.” Hazel lied through her teeth.

Josie merely hummed at Hazel, still rapidly typing on her keyboard.

“Is that all you called me for?” Hazel questioned as the line had gone silent.

“Uhh, yeah, pretty much. I’ll call you with… something later,” she ended the call without saying ‘bye’.

The line beeps before clicking off to Hazel’s home screen. She smiled weakly at the photo of you two, admiring the joy on your face and her own. As she continued to look through her album of photos of you, a notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Her heart rate sped up as you had sent her a text after the most agonizing 24 hours of Hazel’s entire life saying that you wanted to have a ‘serious’ talk. Hazel wiped her sweaty palms on her thigh to send you a response that she could come to your place. You told her that worked for you.

Hazel grabbed her mask from where she had tossed it on her bed and slipped it on over her head. This was it.

It was finally time.

You were waiting patiently in your bedroom to hear a knock at your door. In all honesty, you were willing to just let it pass. Tell Hazel that you were being dramatic and apologize until your lips fell off.

That is until your PJ texted you to stand your ground and not Hazel manipulate you which was a bit dramatic but you knew she was coming from a place of love.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you tried to distract yourself as the seconds ticked by. PJ kept sending you messages that you were okay and that Hazel was nothing to worry about. It was way easier said than done. You put on a movie on your laptop to pass the time to refrain from checking the time.

About halfway through the movie, you hear a soft tapping noise. At first, you excused it as rain hitting your window. But the tapping noise only increased in volume. You take off your wired headphones and turn your neck towards the sound. Your eyes widen at Spider-Woman… sitting on your fire escape?

You froze for a moment, not really knowing what to do. The webbed hero knocked one more time and it took you out of the shock. You walked over to the window and hesitantly unlocked it to lift it up. It somehow wasn’t even registering that this could’ve been an imposter that someone had a costume on.

“Hey,” the masked woman spoke, her voice sounding like it was deepened.

“Hello? I don’t mean to sound weird but… what are you doing on my fire escape?” You let out a weak laugh, raising your brows as you stared into the white of the eyes on the mask.

The woman pointed into your room and cleared her throat.

“I said I’d come over, didn’t I?”

This time the voice wasn’t deepened. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head when you realized it was Hazel behind the mask.

“Haze?” You questioned with an incredulous tone.

You step back away from the window as your girlfriend steps into your bedroom in a Spider-Woman suit. Was this her way of trying to cheer you up for lying to you?

“What are you doing in a Spider-Woman costume?” You question as you shut the window and lock it, staring at Hazel taking off her mask.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself when you think that she actually fits the suit perfectly; like it was made for her. Hazel usually wore extremely baggy clothing which she also looked amazing in but this was a nice thing to see every once in a while.

It was kind of hot.

“Well, it’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Hazel cleared her throat, rubbing her thumbs over the material of the mask.

“Okay…” You stare at her with crossed arms over your comfy pj tee. “What? Are you Spider-Woman?”

Your tone was joking, a little snort leaving your lips as you chuckled to yourself. Hazel awkwardly laughed after you but just stared at you with a patient expression. Your laughter died as soon as you saw Hazel with a tight-lip grin plastered on her slightly flushed face.

You blink.

“I am Spider-Woman,” Hazel said slowly, hoping it would click in your head that this was nothing to laugh about.

“Spider-Woman?” You repeat to her in disbelief. “That person on the streets stopping burglaries, buses spinning out of control and a sort of Avenger?”

“Yeah,” Hazel confirmed.

You again blink. You take a seat on your bed as you examine the outfit your girlfriend is wearing. Hazel was scratching at her arm as she waited for a legitimate reaction.

Was this a joke? Why would she joke about something like this after the argument you guys had just had?

Your girlfriend is a superhero. A mutant. Your eyes widen as it settles in your stomach that she in no way is lying about this.

“You’re not joking, are you?” You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I can… prove it if you want,” Hazel rushes out, glancing up at your ceiling.

You, too, glance up at your ceiling with confusion as to why she did. That is until in the blink of an eye Hazel was hanging from your ceiling by her fingertips. You scrunch up your face at the sight, feeling like your brain is short-circuiting as you’re watching your girlfriend just dangling by her hand from the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you haven't moved a single muscle since you sat down.

Hazel released her body and landed back on her feet with a soft grunt. Her big blue eyes were waiting for a response.

“I— I didn’t know how to tell you before because Mr.Stark was extremely persistent on not letting anyone find out. Especially you and May but now you both know so I’m probably screwed but I don’t care anymore. I hate lying to you. I needed you to know so that you don’t think I’m doing it because I don’t want you to know. Do you know how hard it is to not tell you everything that I’ve done as Spider-Woman? I want to share everything with you and—“

“Hazel!” You interrupt with a light-hearted chuckle.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath due to her panicked rambling. You stood up from the bed and walked over to cup her face. You tilt your head to kiss her gently, inhaling as Hazel’s hands settle on your hips.

“Are you mad at me?” Hazel whispered against your lips, eyes fluttering when you pulled away slightly.

You hum and shake your head, running your hands over her shoulders. What was this suit made of? That material was surprisingly thick.

“Haze, I’m just… in shock, I guess. I mean, it’s pretty badass that my girlfriend is Spider-Woman.” You shrug your shoulders, tracing her jaw with your thumbs.

Hazel blushed at your words, feeling all the more at ease that you were not pissed with her anymore.

“I’m sorry again that I kept it from you,” Hazel sighed , her eyes flickering across all your features. I love you, she thought and almost vomited at the overwhelming feeling.

The two of them still haven’t said the three words yet. Hazel has known how for sure she was of her love for you within the first month. You, on the other hand, have been scared and hesitant to accept feelings so intensely because of your past relationship. Hazel never wanted to press and pry about something that was so personal.

It hurt to not shower you with the love that was pent up inside of her.

“Baby,” you shake your head, the pet name putting Hazel at ease. “I’m not mad. I wasn’t really mad, just afraid, I think.”

Hazel frowned at your timid voice.

“Afraid?”

Her sweet and comforting tone almost made everything come spilling out.

“It’s a me thing,” you scoff and wave your hand in hopes she wouldn’t focus on that.

Hazel’s big blue eyes were pulling you in though like she was hypnotizing you into spilling about your past. You needed to say something else to distract.

“So the webs come out of you?” You suck in a deep breath and you take one of her gloved hands into yours.

“Uhh, yeah. It feels really weird but I’ve gotten used to it,” Hazel explains but is still looking at you with worry.

“That’s insane. Were you born this way?” You trace over.

Hazel shook her head, watching your fingers trace the stitching of her custom suit.

“No, it was a spider from that field trip we took to that lab months ago. It died, like, as soon as it bit me. I didn’t think it was anything until I woke up the next day in a cold sweat, my senses heightened by ten and weirdly toned?” Hazel chuckled as she briefly explained her backstory.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in. There was something both reassuring yet terrifying about this. Hazel would be getting into danger pretty frequently and the thought of her risking her life daily made your stomach turn.

“When did you decide you were going to use your… power for something good?” You questioned.

“Well, you, actually,” Hazel admitted with a rose blush.

Your eyes soften as you mutter: “Me?”

“Yeah, I thought if I could protect the people of the city, I could protect you.” Hazel turned a shade of red you had only seen a few times.

It was sickenly adorable.

“Hazel,” you lean in to kiss her flushed cheeks.

Hazel shakes her head as she allows you to kiss her cheeks. You let out a few giggles as she tries to act like she isn’t enjoying every moment of your lips on you.

“You know,” you pull away to rank your eyes up and down her body, “this suit is kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know,” you begin to shy away, intertwining your hand in her back into your bed. Hazel follows you with narrowed eyes as she watches you.

“Is this,” Hazel motioned down to her skin-tight suit, “turning you on?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe?”

Hazel nodded to herself, a flush on her cheeks.

“Really?”

“Baby, you always turn me on.” You tease as you grab her hand and shove her down on your comforter.

Hazel bounces slightly on the springy mattress as she stares up at you hovering over her face. Your knee was in between her lower thighs and your hands were on either side of her shoulders. Her blush deepened as a sly smirk was plastered on your face as you leaned down to kiss her slowly.

Her gloved hands settled on the soft of your waist, her thumbs skimming the waistband of your cotton pajama shorts. You hum as you pull away to kiss her jaw once. You adjusted yourself so that your knees were now on either side of her hips, straddling her red and blue cladded thighs.

Hazel’s eyes beamed up at you as you lifted your shirt up and off your body so that your lounging bra was the only piece of clothing on your body.

“Wait, wait, wait before we… get to it, um, I got to ask you something,” Hazel massaged your hips as she sucked in a deep breath.

You were trying to pay attention but her palms on you really weren't helping. You tilt your head as she speaks, watching her fumble over her words and her blush deepen.

“Would you want to go with me to this charity event that Mr. Stark is hosting for Heart Matters? I—I have a suit fitting this Friday and I’m sure that Mr.Stark can get you a dress too,” Hazel grinned up at you as your fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck.

You pretend to think about it before giving her a few loving pecks on her lips.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go with you. I haven’t seen you in a suit since prom.”

“Okay, this will be a designer brand. Not whatever me and May could grab at the thrift store,” Hazel grinned cheekily, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, I liked that suit.” You frown.

There was even a photo from the photo booth at your prom on the wall right above your bed frame. Hazel's slightly baggy suit fit her so adorably, her tie matching with the color of your dress. It was one of your favorite photos of the two of you.

“Yeah, me too,” Hazel muttered before straining her neck to kiss you again.

Mid-makeout, you randomly remember that your girlfriend is Spider-Woman.

You’re sucking face with Spider-Woman.

You and Hazel approach the large glass doors lined with deep black . You squint one eye and raise your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring rays of the sun. Hazel’s hand interlocked with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“Dolce & Gabbana?” You read the lettering, glancing into the empty store.

“Yeah, Mr.Stark insisted,” Hazel nodded slowly. “Happy should be inside somewhere.”

You give her a curt nod as you anxiously stare through the glass. You and Hazel hesitantly walk through the doors, instantly feeling out of place under the bright lights and sleek white floors.

You felt like everyone could see the poor on you.

Well, it was sort of obvious as you were wearing your beaten-down sneakers, a pair of baggy 90’s jeans and a ribbed graphic tee. Hazel sported a similar outfit except everything was a lot baggier.

“Can I help you?” A woman with a slicked-back bun and slim square glasses approaches you two.

“Uh, we’re here with Stark Industries,” Hazel grinned at her.

“Oh right. Mr. Hogan should be just down that hall for your customs,” the woman motioned her perfectly manicured hand down a long hallway.

“Thank you,” you tell her with a kind smile.

You try not to roll your eyes at her obviously fake grin. You walk down the hallway, hand in hand with Hazel as you round a corner. In a big bright room, there stood a man with a peppered goatee and a black and white suit and a woman in the same form of business casual.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of a designer brand store with your girlfriend and her billionaire boss’s assistant watching you get sized for a custom-made dress. You never thought this would be something you’ve never thought you’d be doing.

Hazel was sitting next to Happy, both of them sipping on sparkling water. You felt slightly awkward as you had to squeeze into shapewear to make it much easier to get your dimensions. Hazel reassured you every once in a while that this was going to be perfect.

“So let me ask you something,” Happy cleared his throat as he set his tall glass to the side, pointing at you.

“Sure,” you grin, eyes wide and anticipating.

“How did… you two happen?”

Happy is pretty nice from what you can tell. He gives a teddy bear vibe, trying to be snarky and mean when he’s pretty sweet. Like now wanting to know the gossip of how you and Hazel’s relationship blossomed.

“Hazel was my stalker,” you tease your girlfriend as she turns beet red.

“What?” Happy’s face dropped for a moment, leaning away from her.

“No, no, we were in the same class senior year and we got partnered for a project. Then we just started seeing each other everywhere: her uncle’s bodega, the same coffee shops, thrift stores. Everywhere. One day she came up to me and asked if I was following her. I freaked out because it did seem that way but I like to think it was just meant to be,” Hazel spilled, twirling her few rings around her fingers.

“That’s our little story. I asked her if she wanted to come with me to try a new coffee shop that neither of us had been to. She kissed me on the first date,” you share with a chuckle.

Your eyes soften as the workers around you begin to ‘awe’ at Hazel’s rundown. Happy’s eyes flickered between you and Hazel’s blushing faces, a small smirk on his face.

“I did not think you would be the one to make the first move,” he replied, raising his eyebrows at Hazel.

You bit back your amused grin as Hazel scoffs. The sweet worker measuring your waist made eye contact with you, holding back her own grin as well.

“What does that mean?” Hazel frowned at Happy.

“No offense to you, kid, but you don’t seem like the type to make the first move.” Happy tried to defend Hazel.

She looked over at you with a frown. You scrunched up your face a little to show that you agreed. Obviously, you knew Hazel little moves here and there but she did give a nervous-unable-to-flirt vibe. But in a charming way.

To you, of course.

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I think it's adorable,” you beam at her.

Hazel nods to herself as you reassure her that you love how cute she is.

“There,” the worker measuring you finalized.

You stepped off the lit up platform, giving her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’. She pointed a finger at Hazel and curled it for her to stand on the platform that you were previously on. Hazel stood up from her seat to give you a gentle kiss on your cheek before taking your place. You take hers right next to Happy, glancing at him nervously.

“So, what’s it like working for superheroes?” You question, smiling kindly.

Happy took a sip of his drink before letting out a long sigh: “Amazing.”

His tone told you otherwise. You nod slowly, messing with the fabric on your legs as you wait for Hazel to be measured for her suit. Hazel stood eerily still which kind of freaked you out.

“Baby, breathe,” you state with a teasing smile.

Hazel released a breath as she sent you a weird grin. “Sorry.”

You knew Hazel tended to forget to breathe when she was put in unfamiliar situations.

“You know, you two are a lot cuter than I had thought. This one over here could not stop talking about you every single time we were alone,” Happy chipped in after another round of silence.

You beam at the man, turning towards him as you press for answers.

“H-Happy, you’re sworn to secrecy!” Hazel interrupted with a stutter.

Happy held his hands up in defense as Hazel’s eyes kept darting to you and Happy as the woman measured down the length of her arms.

Happy, even though being sworn to secrecy, leans in to whisper to you: “She’s a real sap for you, you know?”

Your heart flutters as you nod. You think about the many, many photos Hazel would send you of random updates throughout her day, the little gifts she got you, and how often she reminds you how much she cares about you. But you always make sure she receives the amount of gentle gestures she gives you.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. Well, you thought you’ve felt like this before. This time it felt true.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m one for her too.”

TAG-LIST: @atyourmerci @mih11 @camilleee222 @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @alesbianperson @slaughtercarrie @cllhan @ahdbodhr @ih8chickentenders @bluerazberrystarz @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovevampires99 @sam-cooperrr @guzzlingplastic111 @rubycruzin4abruzin @cyberchomp @lucicorn72 @angelsknifeprty @lamolaine @cinnamonmilf @elliesprettygirl

[frozenwolftemplar]

Flash Fiction Friday 1/31

Thanks again to @flashfictionfridayofficial for the prompt! Had a few ideas for this one; hope the one I picked lands!

Prompt: Midnight Distractions

Title: Worth Waiting For

Fandom: Carme Sandiego 2019 (yeah, it was begging for it 😁

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Word Count: 987 (I had to cut out, like, 200 🙃)

“Player?”

Player spun his chair so he was facing his bedroom door. “Yeah- Mom!” Wincing, Player squinted as she clicked on a light switch, throwing the room into a sudden disorienting brightness that all but swallowed the cool, comforting blue from his monitor.

“You’ll thank me when you’re twenty and still have functioning eyes,” his mother said unsympathetically. She glanced at him, still blinking dazedly like some creature of the night that wandered into high noon, and chuckled, leaning casually against the door jamb. “Unless you want to prove Aunt Beth right that I’m raising a vampire.”

He grumbled. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d mind if it spared him from incandescent jump-scares. “Did you need something?” He asked once his eyes finally adjusted to the assaulting brightness. Catching his mom’s bemused look, he tossed it right back. “Like help using the DVR?”

"I came,” she said, ignoring the jab with practiced aplomb. “To ask what you’re doing still up? I thought we agreed at ten-thirty the computer goes off.”

“Uh….” Player glanced around for salvation, keenly aware of the eleven-o-clock announcement from the clock in the corner of his computer screen. “I’m…working? On…a…coding project.”

“Really?”

Player fought the urge to squirm under his mom’s arched brow. “Yup.” He grinned, trying to look convincing. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask to see…

His mom tipped her chin towards his computer screen. “Show me.”

Shoot.

With the air of a hacker caught red-handed, Player pulled up the window he’d hastily shut: a Minecraft sandbox. Nothing scandalous but incriminating nonetheless.

His mom frowned. “Honey, we talked about this. It’s not-“

“Developmentally healthy, I know I know.” Player repeated the warning he’d heard way too often. “I’m gonna turn into an addict and spend the rest of my life glued to a monitor forgetting to eat or drink until I keel over.”

“That has happened. Someone in…China? I think? Anyway, the point it-“

“Yeah, it was China.”

“Player, please don’t Google while I’m talking. Anyway, the point is you need to sleep. Trust me on this one. Now come on.” She nodded again at the screen. “Turn it off.”

Player listlessly set his hand on the mouse and slowly moved the cursor to the ‘close’ button. “…Are you sure? Cause, I mean,” he leaned on the arm of his chair and did his best to assume the air of a television lawyer, flashing a smugly confident grin. “The whole point of being a teenager is to ready me for the rigors of adulthood. It’s really to my benefit if you let me decide when to log off.”

His mom gave him a withering look. “The fact that you thought that would work is proof that you need to go to bed. We can revisit this when you're a couple years older." "But if I turn it off I'll fall asleep!"

"That's the point." His mom smoothed a hand affectionately over his hair as he sulked at the screen, begrudgingly shut the system down. "It'll still be there in the morning. Besides," she headed for the door. "It's not like there's anything worth staying up for."

That's what she thinks, Player thought. He rolled to the far wall, clicked off the light so the room was plunged into almost-midnight darkness once again, then back to his desk. Dropping his chin in his hand, he sulked at the world map on the wall, eyes listing over demarcations and lines of latitude. Without the light from his laptop and game of Minecraft to keep his consciousness from slipping from his grasp, he could feel sleep encroaching on him, seeking to steal that moment he'd been waiting for.

Not that he was tired, he just…wasn't used to being up this late.

Another jaw-cracking yawn rumpled the night, and he watched as Lesotho was absorbed into South Africa.

Maybe he could just shut his eyes for a minute…

He jolted upright in his chair, eyes blinking furiously to clear them of creeping sleep. Nope. Not happening. He just knew if he let himself nod off, he'd miss his chance.

Player looked away from the map back to his computer, considering. He supposed he could turn it back on; the chances of his mom coming back in were pretty slim, considering how early she'd be getting up for work. But if she did he'd be in pretty hot water, and the last thing he wanted was to invite scrutiny on his computer activities (they'd never exactly said he could white-hat-hack, after all). But one thing he'd learned from his hacking was that there was always a backdoor. Now, what had his mom said?

"No computer past ten thirty."

"No computer…."

Grinning Player jumped up from his chair and darted to his bookshelf.

Of course!

The clock on the wall just announced midnight when it happened.

Jerking out of the half-doze he'd slid into and fumbling the Gameboy that had taken up the task the laptop had been barred from, Player set the handheld aside and all but pounced on his phone. A grin burst across his face at the number flashing on the screen as all threads of tiredness fell away as he answered. "Hey Black Sheep."

"Player!" Black Sheep's voice exploded with unrestrained glee at his greeting, and he felt the grin grow wider as she launched into a string of apologies she didn't need to give for the phone tag they'd been tangled in for the past few days (he really needed to get their time zones sorted out) and questions about how he was and what he'd been doing and hey she was looking up stuff about Niagara Falls, Ontario and had to know if he'd ever seen the Skylon Tower and oh wow…

Yup, Player thought, leaning back in his chair, Black Sheep's voice wrapping around him warm and welcoming and right, even though he'd only just met her last week. Definitely worth staying up for.

(A/N: I really did once hear about someone in China who collapsed after a days-long marathon gaming session. Life's wild).

[rainba]

I wanna start a blog and you are really inspirational do you have any advice for people making their first blog?:3

(I got a tip for you, and it's pink..../ref)

Awwwe, that’s sweet of you to say! (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡ I do have a little bit of advice for people making their first-time blog!

I would say, to start out with, you should have maaaybe a general play as to what you wanna post? Like, do you want to make just fanfiction? OC content? Etc? You could have a couple of posts planned in a row, and then post them slowly. And if you wanna have a few people notice your stuff, I would say post something as a “hook” of sorts! ( ´ ▽ ` ) I also try to have my posts be a little bit colorful, just so they stand out more... But that's just a me thing.

If you wanna make a blog about one of your OCs, I would say to think about your OCs biggest, most important trait(s), and then really focus on them. After you get the main point in, then you can slowly branch out from there, fleshing out your characters. (≧◡≦) ♡

Like, for me, I think I ended up doing that unintentionally with Kairos– I really focused on how silly and pathetic he is in the fic with him getting naughty with a pillow. (Which… I can’t believe that it has over 1,500 notes?? Silly cute goth/emo boy fucking a pillow might be my magnum opus. Can’t even complain or anything, I actually still like it, hehe ( ´ ꒳ ` ).)

But this is all just general advice–! I’m not even sure if any of it is good advice, really, it’s just something I think I’ve noticed/how I feel.

For advice that I'm confident in, though, here’s a few points!

I’m someone who always feels deeply insecure every time I’m about to post. Like… “Is it good enough? Did I mistype anything? Does the picture look okay enough?” Every time I make something, I find myself stuck in this constant loop of rechecking everything, hoping that I might catch something that’s off. Sometimes I just stare at a piece I’ve made, and I just really don’t like it that much and wanna delete it. My, um... My mouse is forever edging that "post" button. So, here’s my advice on how I’ve been dealing with these kinds of feelings!

“It’s not that serious.” 

Just go ahead and post whatever you want! It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be the best thing you’ve ever made. It’s all for fun at the end of the day– it’s really not that serious.

“Just go ahead and post it! The sooner I get this out of the way, the sooner I can work on something else that might be even better!”

After I’ve read over something a couple of times, I usually have to forcefully stop and tell myself that. ^^;;;; The piece you’re making right now might not be perfect, it might not ever be, so… Why fight with it? Writing or drawing anything is good practice, so you can just call it that! Just call it a practice piece, the steppingstone for the next greater thing you’re gonna make. Who knows, when you post a piece, you might eventually come to find that you actually really like it, and you were just fooling yourself as you were editing. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

“Someone out there might really like what I make, so I should share it!”

I swear, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a sucker for yanderes. There’s just something about them that has always spoken to my soft, gothic heart… (o˘◡˘o) But, uh, finding good yandere content has always been a struggle!!

For all these years I’ve been hunting for good content, and I hadn’t really found any until the past 2-3 years. But it wasn’t through big, official content or anything– all of my favorite yandere stuff has been created by small little people on the internet. I’m so very thankful that so many talented people have come around and shared their works!! Without it, I feel like I would still be a lost soul, painfully searching through a barren desert, trying to find ‘water’ known as dark romance content of anime boys… wahh. ( ´ ▿ ` )

So, how does that tangent relate to you and your blog? Think of it like this: your blog could be the water in someone’s desert. Your OCs could be everything that somebody is hoping for! Your writing could be the reason why someone excitedly turns on their phone and checks Tumblr every day! There’s no need to be afraid or nervous about posting. Just post what you love– if you love it, then that means somebody out there is going to love it too. 

One of my favorite parts about this blog is sharing what I love with other people who love the same things. Every comment, every reblog with the silly tags, every ask, etc... It all keeps me really motivated. I'm super glad that I'm able to make fellow yandere-lovers happy!! It's an honor!

☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

(Also, I just really love seeing people make stuff. Creativity is such a beautiful thing to me. A little more on a serious note... I really despise AI art and AI writing. Seeing the joy of creation being slowly dampened and taken away is really disheartening- so I will always encourage people to make and post genuine stuff, no matter what! Please, put your love and your heart out there, simply to spite AI. ~~~)

TLDR: go ahead and post! Just do it!

(Also... Help... What are you referencing? 😭)

[random-things-of-mine]

Dinner date

Butcher Wally x GN Reader

______________________

The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place with candles on every table and waiters dressed in clean white shirts and black ties. Y/n sat across from Butcher, their leg bouncing nervously under the table. They weren't sure how they'd been roped into this, well, roped wasn't the right word. It had been more of a very persistent invitation that didn't seem optional.

He sat calmly, almost statuesque, his unnervingly sharp eyes scanning the room with lazy disinterest. His work outfit and apron had been swapped for a suit (which wasn't buttoned properly and still had questionable stains), but the air of menace lingered. Even seated, his presence dominated the space, every grin just a little too sharp to be friendly.

Y/n cleared their throat, their voice coming out more wobbly than they wanted. "So... uh, do you come here often?"

Butchers eyes snapped to them, and he chuckled, low and amused. "No, I don't typically go for places like this. Too... sanitized for my tastes."

They laughed nervously. "Right. Sanitized. Of course."

They both fell silent, glancing over the menus. Y/n pretended to read theirs while sneaking glances at Butcher. His face remained impassive, but his fingers tapped idly against the edge of the table.

Finally, they couldn't take it anymore. "Uh, Butcher? You've been staring at that menu for a while. Can't find anything you like?"

His lips curled into a grin, a flash of teeth that sent a chill down their spine. He set the menu down with a soft thud. "Oh, I've found plenty of things I like, sweetheart. Just not on here."

Y/n blinked, their nervous laugh catching in their throat. "What... what do you mean?"

Butcher leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his grin widening. "Let's just say." He began, his voice dripping with dark humor. "The meat I prefer isn't exactly on the menu."

They stared at him, their brain spinning. Was he joking? Was this one of his dark puns?

Before they could respond, Butcher tilted his head, his curls catching the flicker of candlelight, and added with a wink. "Don't worry, I'm not about to order you rare. Yet."

Y/n nearly knocked their glass over in their rush to grab it, taking a shaky sip. "Ha. Funny. You're so... funny."

The puppet sat back, watching them with a smug expression that screamed cat with a cornered mouse. The waiter arrived, thankfully breaking the tension, and took their orders. The human quickly chose something simple, not trusting their voice to hold steady much longer.

"And for you, sir?" The waiter asked the more unpleasant guest, who hadn't picked up the menu again.

"I'll take whatever steak you've got." He replied smoothly. "Bloody. Very bloody."

The waiter blinked, clearly unnerved. "Uh... rare, then?"

"Rare's a good start." Butcher said, his grin returning.

The waiter scurried off, and Y/n exhaled, trying to regain composure. "You're really something, you know that?"

He chuckled. "I've been called worse."

Y/n couldn't help a small smile. As much as his dark jokes made their skin crawl, there was an odd charm to him. He wasn't pretending to be someone he wasn't, and for some reason, that honesty, however terrifying, felt refreshing.

"So." Butcher said, folding his hands on the table and giving them his full attention."Tell me. What made you agree to this little dinner?"

They hesitated, fidgeting with their napkin. "I... I guess I was curious. And you, uh, insisted."

Butcher let out a low laugh. "Fair. I do have a way of getting what I want."

His gaze was heavy, pinning them in place like a butterfly on display. But before Y/n could spiral too deeply into their nerves, their food arrived.

As Butchers steak was set in front of him, he glanced at it with vague disinterest before raising his glass. "A toast?"

Y/n quickly picked up their glass, nodding. "Sure, uh, to... what are we toasting to?"

His grin turned wicked. "To new connections, darling. And to knowing exactly what you're getting yourself into."

They nervously clinked glasses with him, the sound ringing out like a warning bell.

As Y/n sipped their drink, they couldn't shake the feeling that Butcher wasn't talking about dinner.

______________________

[unpopularly-opinionated]

My thoughts on Destiny 2: Episode 2: Revenant: Act 1 so far. Spoilers below, but the TL;DR (it's just a really long yapfest below, guys) is that Bungie somehow keeps hitting new lows. Not only has the quantity of content dropped significantly between Echos and Revenant, but the quality of said-content has dropped pretty significantly as well. We're in for a rough 6 weeks.

So uh... I've always been under the notion that Bungie is a, shall we say, mediocre company these days. Destiny 2, while still unfortunately a one of a kind, has been mediocre for the past like 3-4 years. Sure, it's had its ups, but it's had a lot more downs, let's be honest. It's a one of a kind, so I keep coming back, and I'll likely keep coming back due to sunk cost. I won't pretend that anything I'm about to say will dissuade me from hyping it up in the future.

So far, after playing a couple of hours of this new episode, I'm alarmed to put it mildly over just how low the bar of quality has fallen.

To start, whether due to a bug or an intentional change, a quality of life feature was removed for seemingly no reason, that being the ability to press F1 + Tab to quickly open your Director without having to hold Tab for a few seconds. This is a small ding against the game (albeit a frustrating as hell one), to be sure, but I wouldn't have made an entire post about this if that was the only ding.

Now, just to clarify, this isn't isolated to just this episode. It just so happens that I didn't get a chance to play the final act of Ep. 1, so I was trying to do that before I began Ep. 2. One of the quests in the final act had you gather some parts from a lost sector--a standard filler mission, this isn't the complaint. The complaint comes from the fact that the 'item' you receive when you pick up each object is clearly a stand-in neon pink default texture. Really, they couldn't be bothered to give it any texture otherwise? Okay then.

Then, in this episode, we're introduced to the jankiest potion brewing mechanic ever. I would add "most confusing" as well, but I'll chalk that up to my inattentiveness when it came to the introduction of it. So you go to the table to select a recipe, which I think costs materials to select because sometimes you can only select one, other times two, but never all of them, but you eventually get all of them very quickly anyhow so gating them doesn't matter really. But then you go and grab the ingredients from the shelves, then you go through a series of button presses to play little animations. One of them was bugged for me, I guess, and I was meant to turn into a chicken but it was invisible for me. Maybe it was an invisible chicken? I doubt it.

The jank though comes from the item they put in your inventory, something which we've never really had happen before now. Before now, if Bungie wanted you to interact with an item, they'd put it in your Quest Log and have you right click on it from there. They did that this time around, putting the spot to view and drink your potions in your Quest Log. Only, if you try and open it from your Quest Log, it'll bug out and disable your mouse, preventing you from actually doing anything. Because the intended way of opening it isn't from your Quest Log, it's from your Inventory where this brand new tab appeared. So I ask, why even bother putting it in our Quest Log? I imagine because this game is held together by rubber bands and Kraft glue that it needs to be in your Quest Log in order to work at all, because instead of just building a new mechanic to allow you to open it from your Inventory, they had to just build on top of the mechanic they already had in the game to allow you to open it from your Quest Log. It's just kind of lazy, but whatever.

And then come all of the narrative snafus with this new episode. I knew something was off when the intro mission to this episode had us storm Riis Reborn to capture Eramis, and at the end we see this in-game conversation between her and Crow, where Crow very calmly asks her to come in so that justice can be served, but also so he can help her and her people who are being hunted by Fikrul. It's a very calm, collected conversation where eventually Eramis peacefully gives herself up to being captured. Then we immediately jump to a cutscene on the HELM where Crow's got a gun pointed at her, shouting about how she's a super dangerous criminal and telling her not to try anything. His aggro went from 0 to 100 in a second for no reason at all, it was just really jarring.

From this point on, Eramis is locked inside a prison cell in the new/updated HELM space Bungie made, which I will grant looks very nice all things considered. She's completely accessible by the player, by the way, a point which I bring up because later we get a quest step that says "Speak to Eramis on the Holoprojector" which I'd call lazy, but the irony is that I think it's technically more effort to create a Holoprojector conversation with Eramis then it would be to just have the player walk ten feet away from the Holoprojector to the prison cell she's currently held in, and talk to her there.

If you go through the portal to the old HELM, which is now partly destroyed and presumably in some hangar somewhere to be repaired, you can go to the front of the ship where the windows are, which are now broken and busted out. If you look outside of them, you can see the edges of like the skybox or whatever you want to call it. You can see the corner of the room object that the HELM space is held inside of. It's super janky looking. And like, Bungie's always had this kind of stuff, I realize that. But typically you have to go out of your way to find that sort of thing. Whereas with this, you literally just walk to the front of the ship and you see it. Like I don't know, Bungie, add in a smoke effect or something to obscure my vision of the seams. It just feels like whoever was supposed to finish the HELM got fired before they could finish, which is the "excuse" I've been half-jokingly making with all of these nitpicks.

This one you could theoretically chalk up to just being a nitpick because what I'm pointing out is merely just a narrative detail that I disagreed with based on how Bungie's done this in the past. One mission has us go to this Tangled Shore-looking map where we're trying to save a bunch of Eliksni. Crow TPs in where you spawn and says a few things, then points to a cave ten feet away from you where Fikrul is just chilling. He TPs away, again even though this cave is hardly ten feet away from us, but whatever. I get that Bungie doesn't have a standard running animation that they can use on NPCs to have them run to a certain point during narrative moments (oh wait).

Anyways, you go into the cave where Fikrul is. Deadbeat Daddy Crow TPs back in to talk to his son. His son hates him, go figure, and decides to turn all of the Scorn surrounding us at that moment against us. Now, in any other scenario, we would've gotten a standard "hold them off, Guardian, while I go chase after Fikrul" or something to that effect. Some sort of narrative indication that we're meant to kill the enemies surrounding us while the NPC goes and does NPC things. Instead, we get "DAMMIT!" before Crow TPs out, leaving us surrounded by Scorn. No acknowledgement that we're surrounded by enemies or anything, or how it's on us to handle it. Deadbeat Daddy Crow just ups and abandons us like we're his kid or something.

This wouldn't have bothered me as much as it did if I didn't already know and understand how Bungie usually writes these things. Yes, I'm aware the mission isn't difficult. I wasn't even slightly concerned with the fact that he left us surrounded by Scorn. The problem I had was that, narratively, Crow or any of the Vanguard would never just up and abandon the Guardian without so much as a word as to why they're abandoning them.

I think perhaps the biggest criticism I have so far though is that this is it for Act 1? The change they made between episodes to allow us to effectively binge all of Act 1 all at once I believe to be a good one, but now that I'm done with Act 1, I'm scratching my head wondering how the fuck they were ever planning to draw this out in the first place.

One of the missions they sent you on is like ten seconds long. You spawn in on Nessus, right at the spot where you need to be. You drink a potion at a table that does something I guess. Maybe like 20 Scorn spawn around you, only one yellow bar. You kill them in seconds and that's that. That's the mission. So I'm sitting here asking myself: "Holy shit, would that have been the weekly mission if this was still being time gated week-by-week?" A mission that seriously takes all of like 2 minutes if you don't include the dialog that you listen to after its over and you're waiting for the "Mission End" timer to go down.

Altogether, there's only three missions in Act 1. The mission where you capture Eramis at the beginning, the mission I just mentioned above where you drink a potion and kill some Scorn for two minutes, and the mission I mentioned even further up where Deadbeat Daddy Crow abandons you like you're his second child. And I've looked around and I'm apparently not alone in thinking this is crazy short.

Six weeks until Act 2 comes out, and seven weeks after that until Act 3 drops. I feel like Bungie blew their load in Echos, it being the first of these "Episodes" they introduced us to, and now comes the real new standard we should expect for Destiny 2's future. Our options are either an hour of content with a 6-7 week break in between, or an hour of content stretched unimaginably thin for 6-7 weeks. Either way, sad sad times ahead for Destiny 2. It seems like not only should we be expecting less quantity content, but less quality content as well.

Anyways, can't wait to play more of it. Blah blah blah, yap fest over.

[anonthatwantsyoursoul]

Ok so she goes down, sees the wall is bricks, tea kettle noise and then now

Coraline: It was incredible real mom! Only you weren't really you, you were my other mother!

Mom: buttons for eyes, huh? You only dreamed you ate all that chicken, take your multivitamin, at least.

Coraline: you were in the dream too dad, you had wild looking pajamas and orange monkey slippers.

Dad: haha orange? My monkey slippers are blue, and psst, can you get me some of that magic (something), I have a terrible case of writers rash, on my- (your disgusting you freak)

Mom: eh hem. If the real Charlie Jones(ohh that's his name) wants his pages edited he better wrap them up asap.

Mom: Coraline, why don't you go downstairs (I forgot something about telling the lesbians) I'm sure they'd love to hear your dream.

Coraline: Ms. Spink and Ms. Forceable (help what's there names), but you said they're dingbats!

Mom: mhm (asshole).

Time skip she went outside

Coraline: Bobinsky, (what's his name spelled??) Bobinsky, Bobinsky... *Sniffs packages* EHEGH pew e.

She goes up the stairs (reverse Mari moment)

Coraline: Hello? I think our mail got mixed up! Should I leave it outside or...? AH

Time skip ish

Bobinsky: SECRET, famous jumping mouse circuit not ready! Little girl..

Coraline: (idk what) oh, I brought this for you!

Bobinsky: lovyseel (the fuck does he say here)

Coraline: huh? (Same girl)

Bobinsky: Very clever, using this mix up to sneak my whole on the peekabooshkas (ok I know he's Russian but I'm pretty sure that's not a word)

Coraline: booshkas?

Bobinsky: The mice!

Coraline: oh sorry

Uh I don't really remember what happens

Bobinsky: here, have beet, make you strong, das vadanya (I can't spell :() Caroline.

Coraline: It's, CORaline.

Time skip

Bobinsky (help I have no idea what he says here so I'm so sorry for what your about to read): VATASHEEHEYY

Coraline: NO!

Bobinsky: The mice, they asked me to give you a message.

Coraline: The... Jumping mice?

Bobinsky: they are saying *bombastic side eye* "do not go through little door", do you know such a thing?

Coraline: the one behind the wallpaper? But.. it's all bricked up.

Bobinsky: ah, so sorry, sometimes the mice are a little mixed up.

Bobinsky: I mean, they even get your name wrong, they call you "Coraline" instead of "Caroline", not Caroline at all! Maybe I'm working them too hard..

Time skip (I don't remember what comes after this I need to replay the whole part in my head since they don't speak for so long during this part)

Coraline: AHH

Ms. spink: (what doss she say here) Sis you fernal yapping (WHAT??? HUH???)

Ms. Spink: Well how nice to see you Caroline, would you like to come in? We're playing cards.

Coraline: Still Coraline, Ms. Spink.

Ms. Spink: Miriam! Put the kettle on!

(I'm just gonna call them April and Miriam from now on because it's annoying having to put a period every time I say her name)

(ok I also don't know what she says here so be prepared for incoherency)

Miriam: April, akalohithwallo

April: It's the new neighbor, Miriam, Caroline. She'll be having the oolong tea.

Miriam: No, I'm sure she'd prefer jasmine.

April: No, oolong.

Miriam: Jasmine it is then!

Timeskip

Coraline: Are those dogs.. real?

April: Ah, sweet departed angels, couldn't bear to part with them, so we had them stuffed.

Miriam: Go on, it's hand pulled taffy from Brighton, best in the world *poses*.

April: oh and that's drops cousin twice removed. I'll read them if you'd like.

Coraline: Read what?

April: Oh your tea leaves, dear. They'll tell me your future.

April: drink up then go on. No! Not all of it, that's right, now hand it over.

(I don't really remember what she says)

April: you are in terrible, terrible danger.

Miriam: Give me that cap April! Your eyes are going.

April: My eyes? You're blind as a bat!

Miriam: Now let's see here, oh, it's good news, there's a, tall handsome beast in your future.

Coraline: A what?!

April: Miriam, oh really, you're holding it wrong! See, danger.

Coraline: What do you see?

April: I see a very peculiar hand.

Miriam: Well I see a giraffe.

April: Giraffes don't just fall from the sky Miriam!

Everyone: AAH

Coraline: well, what should I do?

April: Never wear green in your dressing room.

Miriam: Aquire a very tall stepladder.

April: and be very, very carefu- AGGYG *falls*

April: Now, was there something you came to tell us?

Coraline: No, I guess not.

Timeskip

Coraline: Great! The village stalker!

Wybie: I-I wasn't stalking you, we were hunting banana slugs!

Coraline: What do you mean "we"? (Pronouns amr 🙄)

Coraline: Ha! Your cats not wild! He's a wusspuss!

Wybie: Hey! He hates to get his feet wet, jeez.

Coraline: wusspuss~

Ok I think I'll continue this in a bit so yeah

[gravityfallsrewritten]

Chapter 17: Escaping Dreams

It was surprising to see rain in the middle of summer– a thunderstorm nonetheless, but that wouldn't stop the twins from going and finding some entertainment. The moment the rain began though, because Stan was a major cheapskate and wouldn't dare spend a penny on fixing the Shack properly, the roof had gotten frail and weak, causing water to leak.

The family went and gathered as many containers as they could, ranging from cups, pots, and pans and began putting them under each leak.

While they were searching for more bowls, Mabel found a random Conflict Boatboard game lying around the attic and invited Dipper to play. Dipper, being competitive he is, immediately accepted the offer with an intent to win while Mabel had no idea how to play this particular game.

The rain continued pouring, and Y/n thought that this was a good excuse for coffee– although every hour is coffee hour for her– and proceeded to enjoy watching the rain fall down the window of the kitchen while sipping on the flavorful bitterness. Meanwhile Stan loitered by the TV as usual, boringly flipping through channels. Wendy and Soos were forced to stay inside the Shack because the heavy rain came unexpectedly and they didn't have anything against the weather.

Dipper inquisitively placed a hand on his chin. "I'm gonna say... B5,"

Mabel grinned excitedly. "Miss!" She proceeded to put a peg on her board. "Whop!" Her pegs were arranged like a cat's face.

"I don't think you're playing this right." Dipper glared.

All of a sudden, Stan's booming voice resonated through the house, louder than the rain. "Kids! Come quick!"

The twins sprinted down the stairs in unison, finding Stan cackling in mock laughter. Y/n sat on the huge dinosaur fossil beside the yellow couch as she continued sipping her hot beverage. "I need you to laugh at this with me!" Stan exclaimed, motioning to the TV where Gideon's commercial played. The boy held a mini guitar and the background were clouds passing by.

"Who's cute as a button, and always your friend? Lil' G-I-D to the E-O-N! Wink!"

"Li'l Gideon!" Bud announced after.

The twins had the urge to grimace. Y/n thought the jingle was fairly catchy, but it was also hilarious seeing Gideon try this hard. "Ugh, Gideon," Dipper stared weirdly.

"Remember when I wouldn't date him and he tried to destroy us?" Mabel voiced aloud.

Stan frowned deeply. "He's always trying to trick me into losing the Mystery Shack!"

"He's annoying."

Wendy walked in the room. "One time I caught him stealing my moisturizer."

"He's so weird."

Soos followed with a smile. "And yet, our mutual hatred for him bonds us together."

The commercial continued, and now Gideon was laughing with doves flying out from behind him. "Come on down to Li'l Gideon's Tent of Telepathy, opening soon at this location." The TV shows a pseudo-Mystery Shack getting crushed by the Tent of Telepathy.

"Uh," Dipper stuttered. "Should we be worried about that?"

"Please," Stan waved a dismissive hand, smirking, "the only way Gideon's taking over this shack is by breaking in and stealing my deed."

A crash was heard from the upstairs, alerting everyone. Y/n sat up. "You mean, right now?"

Inside Stan's office, was Gideon attempting to open Stan's huge safe. He mumbled possible significant numbers as codes, but nothing worked. "38? 41? Oh, heavens to Betsy!" He whispered harshly.

The door opened and there stood Stan with an angry expression. "Gideon!"

"Well, well, Stanford!" – Y/n visibly cringed upon hearing the incorrect name– "my arch nemesis. We seem to have entered a dangerous game of cat and mouse. But the question remains, who is the cat, and who is the-"

"Soos, broom." Stan deadpanned.

Conveniently, Soos was holding a broom when the old man asked for it. He began treading closer to the younger boy. "Oh no, not the broom!" Gideon ran around the room as Stan chased him.

Gideon hissed, but those fitful fell on almost deaf ears as he was repeatedly hit by the broom until he chased him outside in the rain. The people left in the office began cleaning up the mess that was the break-in attempt.

"You mark my words, Stanford, one day I'm gonna get that combination. And once I steal that deed, you'll never see the Mystery Shack again!" Gideon screamed against the rain accompanied by thunder.

"Good luck, bucko!" Stan replied with a smirk before closing the door.

Stan went back to his office, opening the vault with the combination before opening it. The deed was still there, tucked safely. He closed the vault shut again, pressing the lock button. He laughed mockingly. "The combo to this safe in the one place he'll never find it: my brain." He said aloud to himself, not knowing there was a pair of eyes peering at him through the window.

Gideon thought that he's had enough of playing games. He brought out his greatest weapon out of his little suit. A book; a dark, leather-bound cover adorned with an insignia– a six-fingered hand and a huge number 2 in blank ink. Inside were pages filled with intricate drawings and cryptic messages, and memories written by someone who had a lot on their mind. It was supposed to be a biography, a series of findings, but it had fallen in the wrong hands. It had fallen in the hands of one Gideon Gleeful.

He flipped to a certain page, his eyes shining a mischievous, evil glint as he stared at the book that gazed back.

***

It was still raining heavily. The five being Mabel, Dipper, Y/n, Wendy, and Stan were watching TV. Stan sat on the yellow throne, Mabel laid on her stomach, Dipper and Wendy were playing with toy guns– one couldn't be sure if they were enjoying it so much. Stan was the only one interested with the Grandpa the Kid showing on TV.

But while they looked like they were almost bored to death, Y/n was enjoying a tub of ice cream as she sat between Dipper and Mabel. Despite the cold rain, Y/n likes to eat dessert. It doesn't give her any brain freeze, nor does it make her tummy hurt no matter how much she ate.

Dipper glared at her playfully, aiming the Nyarf gun at her. "I admire your capacity to consume cold food in chilly conditions."

Y/n smirked at that from the rim of her ice cream tub. "You just couldn't handle it."

With that, Dipper fired, the plastic bullet hitting her straight on the forehead, but she didn't even flinch.

Mabel groaned, turning behind her. "Grunkle Stan, why can't we watch a movie that we'll all enjoy?" She brought out a video cassette. "Dream Boy High! 'Where love is on your permanent record~'."

A chorus of "Boo's" resounded while Y/n chuckled at Mabel's suggestion. "You'll learn to like it," Mabel said.

A sudden crash was heard from the kitchen, followed by Soos' screams as he ran out and into the living room. "Dudes! There's a bat in the kitchen! It tried to touch me with its weird little bat fingers!" His face scrunched worriedly.

"I got it," Y/n immediately stood up, wanting to help– but Stan pushed her back, her butt landing on the carpet with an 'oof'. "What the-"

"Don't worry, I got this under control," Stan reassured her, but she didn't believe a word he said. He simply leaned further back in his armchair and placed his hands on the nape of his neck in faux relaxation. "Dipper, take care of it."

"What?" Y/n and Dipper voiced in unison. "But why can't Y/n do it?" Dipper asked.

"'Cause life ain't fair," Stan answered without missing a beat. "Are you really making someone like Y/n sort it out?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow in offense. "What does that supposed to mean-?"

"Now go fight a bat so we can watch TV," Stan said to Dipper, completely ignoring her.

Dipper stood up and faced the older man. "No way, Grunkle Stan! You always make me do dumb chores." He clenched his fists. "I'm putting my foot down this time!" He said, stomping his shoe on the ground.

"I said do it, kid! Now!"

The room went quiet, except for Stan and Dipper seeming to have a stare-off, growling at each other.

"Grr-!"

"Okay! I'll do it." Dipper surrendered, sighing in defeat. He exchanged glances with Y/n before retreating back into the kitchen. Y/n and Mabel followed behind him. "Stupid chores..." he picked up a saucepan and spoon off the floor.

"Don't worry, I can help you, Dipper," Y/n tried to assure.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Stan shouted from the other room. "Y/n, go throw out the rainwater from the pots upstairs!"

She turned behind her and gave the voice a glare that could kill. Dipper tried to smile positively. "It's alright, Y/n. You can go."

"But-"

"I can handle it," he said, "Besides, Mabel is here for support."

"Okay..." Y/n said slowly before quickly sprinting across the living room and upstairs to take care of the leaks to get to the twins as soon as possible.

That left Dipper, who looked quite determined in getting the bat out, and Mabel, who had her back on the wall, about to say some inspiring words. "Remember, bats are more afraid of you than you are of them."

He nodded briefly before treading forwards to face the creature with nothing but kitchen supplies.

"Maybe I'm thinking of ducklings."

Loud screams from Dipper resounded as things crashed around the kitchen. The boy fought for his life when the bat extended its claws and aimed to scratch him. He managed to dodge its attacks, but the hits caused his Dipper to fly off. He screamed some more when the bat attempted to grab his vest and bring him away somewhere.

"Go get it, Dipper!" Mabel cheered from the side.

"I'm trying!"

"Do you need help?" Y/n asked, standing beside Mabel as she had already finished her task.

"It's fine!" He smiled shakily, trying to appear calm. The bat screeched, revealing its sharp fangs, rearing for Dipper. "A-actually, I might need a little- help! Eek!" He dodged the rabid animal's grasp.

Y/n frantically stepped in, arms reaching for the bat. It was a big bat, but it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. The creature saw the gal coming towards it, so on instinct, it pushed Dipper off so hard that his head fell on the floor with a thud.

The bat squealed some more and tried to scare Y/n off, but there wasn't an inch of fear on her body. With her right arm, she stretched for the bat trapped in the corner. It jumped onto her and bit her hand, but of course, it didn't hurt. Now with her vacant hand, she caressed its furry head. The bat tensed up, surprised from the sudden act of affection. Its teeth let go of her fingers and began sniffing as if familiarizing itself.

Y/n walked herself and the bat near the fridge and opened it, finding a half-bitten apple. "Want it?"

She brought the fruit closer to the creature clinging onto her arm. It seemed to have understood her, leaning closer to catch a scent. It took it with its little hands, bringing it to its mouth and taking a bite. Y/n looked outside the kitchen window and the rain stopped. She deduced that the bat probably just wanted food and shelter. But this Shack wasn't the right place to look for those two things.

"You gotta go, little fella," she spoke to the bat. "You've caused quite the ruckus."

The twins watched with looks of wonder. It was amazing to see her so caring and gentle albeit seeing her literally act like that every single day. But this was the first time– and maybe last time, that she managed to calm down a raging bat.

Mabel, being the enthusiastic and optimistic one out of the two, stepped closer. "Can I pet it?"

Y/n glanced down at the creature and gestured something. "What do you say?"

The bat clung tightly, but its expressions were blank. Y/n nodded to signal Mabel that it was okay so the girl reached over and gently patted the bat's head and neck. Immediately, the creature nuzzled closer, closing its eyes in comfort. Y/n had the urge to smirk slyly. The bat does like pets, but wouldn't want to admit it.

Eventually, the bat had to be set free, seeing that there wasn't any rain anymore. Dipper didn't want to pet it for obvious reasons and because he needed medical attention. So Soos went to the bathroom and got the medkit.

Dipper was situated in a chair placed in the middle of the kitchen as the supplies were placed on the dining table. Bandages and disinfectant were brought out, and Mabel began applying bandages to Dipper's head. Y/n sat in front of him after washing her hands. She brought out the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls, and began cleaning the wounds he got from the bat fight.

"This might hurt..." she mumbled, reaching for his arm.

"Ow, ow!" Dipper clenched his hand tightly.

She stopped momentarily, opting to glance at his face and see if the pain stopped before continuing. He gritted his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Dipper sighed. "Why does Grunkle Stan always pick on me? Think about it! The more painful or difficult the chore is, the more likely it is I'll have to do it. Why doesn't he pick on you guys?" His question seemed to be directed at Y/n since she felt his eyes on her.

She couldn't answer. Lucky for her, Soos came into the kitchen, having overheard the conversation. "Dipper, Stan's personality is one of life's great mysteries. Like whether or not it's possible to lick your own elbow." Good enough answer.

"I bet you can't!" Mabel challenged.

"I bet I can!" Soos began attempting to licking his own elbow, his feet leading him away from the kitchen. Mabel followed, chanting support.

It was just the two of them. Y/n was absentmindedly wrapping a new gauze on his wrist, not knowing what to say at the moment. Dipper exhaled tiredly. "Sometimes I feel like Stan hates me."

"He doesn't hate you." He looked up to see Y/n avoiding his gaze. It was a surprise to hear a reply after that statement. "He doesn't hate you," she repeated, softly this time.

Dipper remained quiet. Although thoughts were still brewing in his head– particularly memories of Stan bossing him around– he couldn't say anything. He watched as Y/n finished bandaging his hands and began clearing the table of the first aid supplies. Dipper stood up and helped her. Silence loomed over them. The only noise surrounding them were the random droplets of water coming from the sink and the deafening sound of a radiator. Their hands briefly touched when they reached for the gauze. Dipper flinched away while Y/n didn't bat an eye. It was just quiet.

"Thank you," Dipper decided to end the muteness between the two of them.

"You're welcome," she replied. So she wasn't mad at him. That was good. "You know that I'm always here for you." That was great. "I know that sometimes you try and prove to everybody that you can do it, but you don't have to do it alone." That was better. "We're a team. You and me." That was best.

He couldn't help but smile at that. "I know I can rely on you," he said. "I trust you."

Y/n's heart was racing, but she couldn't tell whether it was good or bad. Trust is a big word with even bigger implications. Her palms were clammy at his confession. He trusts her. Trust. That meant he trusts that she would never stab him in the back or she would catch him if he falls. He feels safe around her. He knows that he will never be hurt in her presence.

"I trust you too," she couldn't stop her mouth.

"You do?" Dipper dared to ask.

"Of course. We're friends, aren't we?"

The corner of his lips dropped slightly. It took him ten seconds to reply. "Yeah. That's... that's good to hear."

***

The day went on normally. The rain stopped in the afternoon, but it was still cloudy until sunset. Come evening was dinner, until Mabel proposed to have a movie night. Maybe this was her way of making Dipper relaxed and rested after that embarrassing bat fight, but a movie does sound nice.

"So, what are we watching?"

"Whatever comes in the almighty Gravity Falls TV!" Mabel answered happily, picking up the remote and switching the appliance on. Immediately, the announcer listed off the following movies the local theater production had to offer. Most of the items in the catalog were done with almost no effort at all, but it was still good entertainment– laughing at the mistakes and errors that they could notice.

"You're watching theGravity Falls Bargain Movie Showcase!" The voice from the TV took the trio's attention. "Coming up next: Kewl Vampirez! Classic Romantic Teenage Movie! Ducktective: The Duck That Went Quack! And Attack of the Killer Gnomes!"

"Hmm," Mabel thought aloud.

"I already know what you're thinking, Mabel," Dipper deadpanned.

"You don't know what I'm about to choose." The girl rolled her eyes.

The boy crossed his arms. "Let me guess, is it 'Classic Romantic Teenage Movie'?"

"Nope!" Mabel looked proud. "I actually want to watch Attack of the Killer Gnomes and see if they captured the gnomes' stinky attitude perfectly! But what about you, Y/n?"

The twins faced her as she entered the living room with a bowl of freshly cooked popcorn, the smell wafting in the air. "I'm fine with anything," she said, casually sitting next to Dipper on the big, yellow couch. Dipper immediately reached over and got himself a handful of the tasty snack.

"Well, for once I actually agree with Mabel's pick," Dipper said with his mouth still full, resulting in his speech to sound so muffled. He swallowed. "Come on, let's watch it."

Mabel played the movie anyway, the logos of the productions rolling up. She stood up and switched off the lights, the soft glow of the TV providing their only light. Mabel situated herself on the ground, in between Y/n and Dipper's feet, munching on her own bowl of popcorn– and with Waddles already fast asleep beside her, she used him as a pillow.

The movie was pretty decent– featuring a trio of friends going on an adventure when they encountered innocent-looking gnomes. They thought they were safe until they found out that they were about to be eaten, like a plot straight up from Hansel and Gretel. The three kids battle with the gnomes, reminding the three other people of their own encounters.

It was a funny moment when the microphone was being visible in some scenes, and the teen actors weren't doing their best acting scared. Well, who would get scared when the "gnomes" weren't actual, moving creatures. They were moved by hand, only plastered with eyebrows and sharp teeth to appear angry.

The credits soon rolled. The popcorn already ran out, and they were stretching in their seats. They opted to share their insights about the film they just watched, mostly recalling the moment when they pointed out the mistakes and laughing about it.

Mabel picked up the remote and switched through the channels, pausing when a duck in a detective outfit waddled around the street with a magnifying glass in one of its wings. "Ooh, which episode is this?"

"I think it's a rerun of the first season while we're waiting for the second," Y/n answered, her eyes glued to the TV. "I haven't watched this particular one, though."

"Oh okay. Let's watch it." Mabel grinned.

"Should I get more popcorn?"

The twins shook their heads. "Nuh-uh. I'm full."

"Me too."

"Okay then." Y/n stayed in the chair, even going as far as sliding down slightly. Dipper had his left arm placed on the arm of the couch as his head laid on his palm comfortably. Mabel remained seated, her back sliding further down Waddles' stomach. Her eyes were half-lidded as she burped out. A duck with a gun was the last thing she saw before sleep completely took over.

Dipper wasn't doing very well as well, he fought to keep his eyes open as the episode was nearing its end. He adjusted his seat and laid his back against the cushion, blinking his eyes. Y/n was beside him, attention solely on the television, eating what was left of the popcorn bowl.

He glanced to his right and watched as Y/n's eyes sparkled with the animation dancing in her sclera. Her mouth slightly opened when Ducktective stabbed the suspect repeatedly and fake blood gushed out.

Y/n saw something move in the corner of her eyes. Facing to her left slightly and sliding her gaze, Dipper was immersed with the TV, drumming his fingers against the arm of the couch. He suppressed a yawn with his right fist, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as it closed. When he opened those charming brown eyes again, Y/n already had her stare back towards the TV.

They sat equally, shoulder to shoulder, with hands not knowing where to put. Dipper's hands were on his stomach, while Y/n's were caged around her body. The episode reached its conclusion before the credits quickly appeared. A commercial for a new vacuum played and boredom commenced.

The two people left awake were too tired to start a conversation. All the noise left were voices from enthusiastic business people as they try to sell their invention, and the occasional whistle coming from Mabel as she laid fast asleep with her pet pig.

Y/n slowly blinked, afraid that sleep just might take her captive– but she didn't want to move and had to wake up the twins. She couldn't disrupt Mabel's slight laughs as she's clearly having the best dream ever.

But before Y/n could do further adjustments in her, she felt something heavy lay on her left shoulder, making her tense up. She could feel thick curls tickling her neck and cheek. And her arm felt warmth as skin made contact. Her whole left side felt warm as Dipper placed his entire weight on her.

Yet instead of moving, she stayed still, eyes fixated on the show. She hadn't watched this particular episode either, but her mind couldn't seem to concentrate. Her skin seemed to tingle when she felt Dipper nuzzle unconsciously deeper in her collar. Does he feel comfortable? Is she moving too much? Is she warm?

Is Waddles a pig?

They all have the same answers.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her shoulders slumped after realizing that she was still tense. Y/n sighed a bit, calming her ferocious-beating heart, turning her gaze to the TV. She didn't know where to put her hands again, opting to intertwine it and place it on top of her stomach.

Dipper was sound asleep, and she was envious. But the universe reassured her and practically told her that she shouldn't worry any longer and soon enough, her eyelids felt heavy. Ducktective was hanging on a cliff and as much as Y/n wanted to see what happened, unfortunately, sleep came first.

△▼△

Dipper woke up to a bright flash, shielding his eyes until the light died. He looked around and saw that he was inside the Mystery Shack, but it was void of objects. It was an empty room, nothing else.

Except there was a blue portal that resembled a black hole, violent winds sweeping the boy off his feet as he tried to keep his feet on the ground. He stared at the swirl of dark colors, emitting a whooshing sound as if something was about to come out. He waited in participation. What could it be? A monster? His greatest fear? Death?

But nothing could have prepared him when a yellow triangle-shaped creature with arms and legs– its prominent features were a bowtie and tall hat– tumbled out of the portal.

"Hey there. buddy!" The triangle spoke, levitating in the air like it was a bubble. He snapped his fingers and a cane appeared in his hands. He floated down in front of the dumbstruck boy and began dancing, singing a tune.

Dipper, still bewildered, pointed at the being. "Who are you?"

The triangle's eye remained blank. "Name's Bill, nice to meet ya." He tipped his hat but doing so caused the room to flip and Dipper tumbled in his steps. He toppled around while Bill plopped his tall hat back to his pointy head.

Bill? That name sounded too familiar. And the isosceles form he took couldn't be a simple coincidence.

"Nice subconscious you got here, Dipper!"

Dipper tried to balance himself, recovering from the room flipping around. "Wha? H-how did you know my name?" His face scrunched into a look of anxiety, confusion, and fear.

"Oh, I know lots of things!" Bill raised his arms before landing on the floor. He pointed a finger-gun at him as he listed things that he knew about the boy. "You're scared to death of uncertainty.

Another copy of Bill came out from behind him, "Your real name isn't Dipper,"

And another duplicate appeared to the left. "And..." the copy chortled to himself. "Oh, this is interesting..." The three sets of Bills stared at him. "You spend a lot of time thinking about... Daisy?" The end came out more as a question rather than a statement. "Daisy? And I thought she's dumb."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Daisy? Who is that?"

If Bill had a mouth, he would be smirking. The other Bill leaned towards the last Bill. "Gimme details!" The three little triangles huddled together as whispers erupted. "Oh ho, that is scandalous!" The other one commented.

Dipper was getting red in the face, anxiety creeping in as he thought of what Bill might say. The triangle still had to explain who Daisy was supposed to be, but he may have a guess because she's the only one running through his mind. "Dude! What do you want from me?" Dipper said, exasperated.

"Oh, right!" Bill exclaimed before snapping his finger and before he knew, he became one again. He walked up to the boy. "So get this," his singular transformed into a mini-projector, emitting blue light. A photo of Stan's head appeared on the screen. "This fat little baby man Gideon hires me to, uh, I don't know-" the projection occurred,, depicting Bill's plan like he was doing a business proposal, prepared with a powerpoint presentation, "uh, hop into your uncle's mind and steal a combination to his safe or whatever?"

Dipper stared at the projector, his eyes furrowed.

BIll continued, "So the kid, can, I don't know, steal a deed and destroy your house or something?" He nonchalantly showed a graphic of Gideom's large hand smashing the Mystery Shack completely. "Pretty serious stuff," the show was over, and he turned off the projector that was his eye.

It was silent for a brief moment until Bill caught something lying on the ground. "Hey, what's this?" He picked it up, it was a paddleball. Bill began playing with it. "Paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle," he mumbled.

Dipper was still reeling from the information he just received from possibly one of the most powerful beings. "You're gonna get Grunkle Stan's code by entering his dreams?"

Bill continued paddling with a casual stance. "Sure, just like I entered your dreams. And thanks for the compliment! I am pretty powerful. Hey, what's that?" He snapped his fingers and before Dipper could have the chance to think and process what just happened, he realized that his feet weren't touching the ground anymore.

Gravity pulled him down as Dipper tried to cling to any leverage, screaming for help. He was falling through the sky, groups of clouds flying past him. Meanwhile, Bill's pose looked relaxed with his triangle head laying on his hand. "I bet you're wondering if there's a way to stop me." Dipper couldn't answer as he was still screaming. "Well, I don't wanna give you any hints, but I bet there's a way for you to follow me into his brain!"

He then pointed at something from afar. "Ah, there's the old man's head now!"

Dipper stopped screaming momentarily to take a look at a ginormous Stan head laying on the vast expanse of pasture. Bill had the two of them float near towards the target, until he stopped. He flew to where he needed to be; facing Dipper, as the same portal from earlier appeared once more.

"See you in your nightmares, kid!"

His eyes closed then opened. "You can't tell but I'm winking. You know, uh, one eye- okay, later, BYEEE!"

Bill went through the glowing gateway like a flushed toilet. Dipper looked down and realized that he was still falling, about to meet his rough demise. He screamed as the ground was coming near, but before the harsh impact, he woke up.

He was breathless when he opened his eyes. His face was sweaty as he scanned his surroundings. The TV was off, Mabel was on the ground fast asleep, but Y/n was already awake, rubbing her eyes frantically. She heaved a huge sigh, not noticing that the boy beside her was looking at her in concern.

Earlier...

A maniacal laugh echoed around the emptiness. She glanced around her to find the culprit, only to find nothing. She flitted her eyes around again until the laughing stopped.

Piano sounds accompanied a ringing voice as it sang a little jingle, "Daiiisy, Daiiisy~ Give me an answer, dooo~!"

Upon the horizon, a yellow triangle floated down with a singular eye closed. Arms stretched out as if he was a god descending from above. He continued singing despite not having a mouth– but Y/n was sure that the reverberating voice was coming from him, "I'm haaalf crazy! All for the looove of you!"

He hovered around until he was in front of her. Y/n was unimpressed. "Nice song," she remarked sarcastically.

"An 1892 classic, sung just for you!" He bounced around in the air. "I'm sure you missed me just as how I missed playing with you! Do you even remember who I am?"

She stepped back a bit at his close proximity. "Something tells me I met you before..." she said slowly.

"Does your brain need refreshing?" The triangle flew near and plucked a copy of her brain, dipping it in a bucket of water that magically appeared. "Name's Bill Cipher, although it's kinda my doing that you couldn't recall our first meeting."

"What?" She was clueless.

His one eye rolled away. "Oh come on, Daisy, surely that big head of yours can restore memories from 30 years ago!" Bill placed his hands on.... the side of his shape. "It's not that long, is it? You even kept the necklace he gave you!"

Instinctively, she reached for her collar where her necklace laid on. Ford? How does he know Ford?

"Oh my, you are so gullible! And stupid. And dumb." He laughed aloud, placing his hands where his stomach was supposed to be.

Y/n narrowed her eyes in irritation. She didn't want anyone to ever belittle her and her skills. "What do you want from me?"

"And why did the headless chicken cross the road?" The literal chicken without its head crossed between them. "Is for you to not know and keep your nose out of it!" He cackled before flicking her nose. "Okay, okay. I'll give you a hint. I'm not that bad."

Bill snapped his fingers and all of a sudden, Y/n was floating with him. "Wha-"

He swiped his hand to the left, and she felt whiplash from the movement of the room around them. Everything thrusted to the side and now they were in a dark, empty abyss. "Gideon Gleeful. Stan Pines. Mind. Code. Shack. Destroyed. Kaboom. Presentation over."

As a visual aid, pictures appeared around him out of nowhere.. Y/n's gaze wandered around possible hints but the answer was right in front of her all this time. She wasn't the moron Bill assumed she was. Clearly, this being was tasked to break inside Stan's mind to forcibly get the code for Gideon. How is he going to do that?

Her thoughts were cut off when a hand landed on her cheek harshly. She was brought back to reality– the reality being she's still with the triangle guy. She glared at him in offense. The slap didn't hurt of course, but the fact that he got to touch her made her annoyed.

"Boy, you kids sure love to overthink a lot. Here's some advice: clear your head. It would make it easy for me to look around for information I need when I enter your mind."

"As if I'll let you do as you please," Y/n challenged, crossing her arms.

"Why not? It would be so much fun! Look at all the fun me and Fordsy had!"

Hearing the name hit her harder than a smack ever could. Her veins felt like they were on fire, but her muscles were trembling. Fordsy? Ford? When she sought to grasp them, reflections of the past emerged. Ford's voice appeared to come in whispers. "Daisy, Daisy. Sleep tight, Daisy."

Bill groaned, annoyance seeping in. "Are we seriously doing this again? Come on, recover your memories faster. We're on a time limit over here!"

She kept quiet. She's had enough replying to his mockery. She kept her mind clear to avoid him reading her thoughts. She figured someone like Bill could do that. She just wanted Bill to get out of her mind as soon as possible so she could find a way to save Stan.

"You done?" Bill checked, leaning to the side.

Y/n promptly nodded, looking him directly in the eye, her arms remained on her sides. "Are you gonna leave now?"

"Because you said so... I have to leave," the triangle said, feigning sadness– if he could even do that. "Don't miss me that much. You still have to focus on fixing that portal!" He floated away from her, a portal hoving into view behind him. "See you in your nightmares!

"He'll see you soon."

She woke up with a sharp inhale, her eyes snapping open. Her breathing shortened for a bit as she rubbed her sleep away. The sun was already up as the light was seeping in. Noises from the TV entered her hearing and after successfully finding the remote within her reach, she turned it off. She just needed peace after that chaotic meeting with Bill.

Heaving a sigh, she rubbed her temples. "Bill Cipher..." That was the name of the triangle that visited her in her dreams.

"So you got that nightmare, too?" A voice to her left whispered slowly. Dipper looked down. "A triangle guy. I've seen him from the journal."

Dipper reached from behind him and retrieved the leathered book. He flipped through the pages and stopped once he saw a huge drawing. Bill Cipher, written in Ford's elegant writing. There were codes and symbols surrounding the triangle being with one eye. But it was seeing this particular page with drops of red that sent her mind into a frenzy. Was it blood? Was it jam? And why is this coming to light now? What was Ford hiding from her, then?

So many questions yet all of them are left unanswered.

The one thing she despised above all was someone keeping something from her, especially from someone she cared about. She simply did not enjoy being kept in the dark. Ignore the fact that she is literally doing to the twins what she despises right now. She pushed the uncertainty and nervousness down and remained blank. "Read it," she said.

"Beware Bill, the most powerful and dangerous creature I've ever encountered. Whatever you do, never let him into your mind."

An involuntary shiver ran across her spine. That was Ford's warning. He couldn't possibly write this in his journal if he hadn't encountered the being. The last statement seemed to haunt her. Never let him into your mind. More questions arise from that, alarms blaring in her mind.

"We have to stop him," she spoke. "Bill is planning to extract the code to the safe directly from Stan's mind."

A pointed gasp interrupted before Y/n could question Dipper's hesitant expression. Mabel was breathless. "Triangle..." she hyperventilated. "Stan's mind..." She puffed. "Code...!"

"Mabel, calm down." Y/n reached over and patted her hair comfortingly. "We'll stop him."

"You had that dream, too?" The girl exclaimed before standing up, startling her pet pig who ran away in fear. "We have to go now!"

"Dudes!" Soos came into the room in perfect timing, but he was panting out of breath. "You gotta help Stan! He's gone cuckoo bananas and his eyes are turning blue!"

The trio exchanged panic glances before discarding everything in the living room and following Soos into Stan's office. Opening the door, the sight of the old man greeted them. He was writhing in his seat like a wild dog. He grunted like he was having the worst nightmare ever.

In a panic, Mabel snatched the book from Dipper. "It is possible to follow the demon into a person's mind and prevent his chaos. One must simply recite this incantation."

Dipper wasn't feeling up to it, sulking. "Ugh, this is just great. I spend all day cleaning sinks and fighting bats for Stan and now I have to save him from some crazy brain demon?"

"But if we don't do anything Gideon might steal the shack! Or worse!" Mabel took the words out of Y/n's mouth.

Stan's screaming resounded and the four's attention switched to him. "Come on, Dipper," Y/n faced him. "Do this with us."

He sighed in defeat. "Fine."

A few minutes later, after hauling Stan over to the living room, the quartet managed to make the living room look like they were about to summon something– with the lights turned off and lit candles surrounding them. They all placed their hand on Stan's head as Dipper began orating the invocation.

"Videntis omnium. Magister mentium. Magnesium ad hominem. Magnum opus. Habeas corpus! Inceptus Nolanus overratus! Magister mentium! Magister mentium! MAGISTER MENTIUM!"

Eyes opened to a place of black and white. Soos and Mabel made exclamations of awe as they slowly looked at their surroundings. Y/n couldn't believe that it worked, while Dipper was wary of the atmosphere.

They stood in front of what seemed to be a macabre version of the Mystery Shack. "Whoa, this is Stan's mind?" Mabel said to no one in particular.

Soos followed suit, "Huh. Figured there would be a lot more hot old ladies."

Y/n frowned. Now they were going to see what Stan really was. She didn't want that day to come just yet.

"Remember, everyone, we've got to look out for the triangle guy," Mabel warned.

"Yeah, look out for the triangle guy!" A voice arrived, and it was Bill in the shape. He held a cane fit for his size as he twirled it around.

"Look! He's a triangle!" Soos pointed out.

Mabel asserted, "You leave our uncle's brain alone, you isosceles monster!"

"Mabel, wait!" Y/n's warning fell on deaf ears as the girl rushed forward to Bill, but he was one step ahead, using his body as a makeshift portal and Mabel jumped inside. Seconds later, she was out.

"Gotcha!" Mabel exclaimed, but her hands were empty. "Wait, what?"

Bill's eye widened slightly in joy. "Ah, Stan's family, we met at last! Question Mark, Shooting Star, Pinetree," he paused, intertwining his hands together. "And who could forget our dear Daisy!"

Dipper jolted when he heard the nickname. He looked to his right to see Y/n staring right at Bill with an irritated expression. He didn't want to think about Bill's implication earlier in his dream at the moment.

Without another second to think, Bill had shot a hole in Y/n's chest– that Mabel's hand could fit through. Dipper screamed. "Are you okay?" He asked her.

"Never better," she smiled as a joke, when she didn't even feel anything. Ignoring the literal gap in her torso, she glared at Bill. "Get out of Stan's mind, Bill! You're never gonna find the code!"

"Hah! As if you can stop me! I am the master of the mind. I even know what you're thinking right now! "

"That's impossible, no one can guess what I'm thinking!" Mabel objected.

With a snap of his fingers, two tall, brightly-colored men stood in between Mabel. They looked like they were from an 80s film, and looking at them just made Dipper's eyes hurt.

"Whoa!" The first guy spoke in a weird accent. "Where are we, bro?"

"We must be in heaven!" The blue-haired guy in a cool jacket shrugged. "'Cuz I just saw an angel..." he crouched down to Mabel, who was wearing a wide smile.

"I'm never letting go of your leg!"

Bill floated boredly. "You're out of your league, kids. Turn around now before you see something you might regret." He tipped his hat in farewell. "Later, suckers!" Bill crashed through the wall inside the Mystery Shack and he was gone.

"Let's go," Y/n spoke, unimpressed that Bill could easily distract them like that. She began walking as Dipper followed suit after complaining to Mabel about the two other men with them.

Eventually, the main door to the Shack opened, revealing sets of doors. It didn't look like the normal Shack; it was disoriented and messy– like Stan. Eyes roamed around floating wooden boards, monochromatic decorations and such.

As Y/n scouted every possible room they might come across, they followed the descending stairs. There were separate territories for Stan's hopes and fears, but they decided to go to his memories instead, hoping to find the memory of Stan inputting the code before Bill could. That way, they could conceal it or keep it safe from him.

Memories of Stans played as they walked by them. Each opened door showed recollection from this summer. Soos marveled at the sight. "Whoa, look! All of Stan's memories!"

"Great. Sure there's plenty of memories of Stan bossing me around, can't wait to see more of that."

Y/n raised an eyebrow at Dipper's bitterness. His resentment towards the old man can wait. What's important was that they get to the code before Bill finds it.

So everyone went searching, opening doors and looking through Stan's history. One had Stan in his entrepreneurial days, his moments in jail, and even his times going on dates.

While walking, Dipper discovered a door with a symbol on it; the iconic pinetree on his trucker hat. Write on the door were the words, "DIPPER MEMORIES" with a boarded up sign that said "keep out".

"Look, guys! Memories about me..." Dipper said, stopping in his tracks.

"That doesn't seem like a good idea," Soos suggested.

"I just wanna know what the old guy really thinks of me," He replied, raising an eyebrow.

Mabel walked by, casually smiling, "We already know how Stan feels about us; he loves us! We're great."

Dipper wasn't satisfied with the answer, crossing his arms in contempt.

Y/n looked away, knowing that Dipper would still go inside that section anyway despite their warnings. "Let's just go. We're running out of time." She just hoped that Dipper would soon understand that Stan's actions are vastly different from his intentions.

Dipper took Y/n's cue as a distraction, quietly thankful. He slipped away from the group as a distraction and went back to the already ajar door and tip-toed inside. A hallway full of closed doors greeted him, accompanied by Stan's orders and mocking laughter. "Dipper, my back itches!" "Unclog the toilet, Dipper!" "Dipper, fix the roof in this sweltering heat right now!"

He stopped in front of a random door, twisting the knob open. He remembered this memory. "-No buts! Now go chop that firewood already!" Stan twisted the newspaper in his hand and smacked Dipper's head with it.

"Ah!" Dipper winced, glaring as he turned around and walked towards the stump meters away from the Shack.

Stan sat down on the couch beside Y/n who was sighing in pity. "Stan, why are you so hard on Dipper all the time? You make fun of him 24/7, and you give him chores. And whenever I volunteer to do them, you don't let me."

Stan whispered something to Y/n that Dipper couldn't hear clearly, making him lean more. "The kid's a loser. He's weak! He's an utter embarrassment!

"I just wanna get rid of him..."

Dipper heard enough, closing the door with a deep frown on his face. He went to look for the exit, bile growing in his stomach. He just wanted to get out of this place.

Meanwhile the remaining five went and opened every door that might lead to Stan's code. Y/n had looked everywhere all the while being wary of what the others might discover the longer they were in here. On top of the vexing hole in her chest, it was becoming increasingly frustrating that they hadn't made any headway in cracking the code. She became agitated when she realized that anyone could open a door with her in it and notice that Stan was younger while Y/n remained the same. Fortunately, no one was able to locate one.

Yet.

Soos opened one door, displaying a memory of Stan in front of the vending machine, pressing buttons. The contraption opened and he stepped inside. Imaginary alarms blared in Y/n's ears as Soos let the memory play. "Soos, wait, let me explain-" Y/n whispered harshly.

"Boring," Soos cut off, closing the door abruptly. And at that, Y/n raised an eyebrow at his uninterest. Did... Did Soos just call possibly one of the most dangerous secrets unfolding right in front of his eyes- boring?!

Y/n stood still, while the rest went forth, following Mabel. Said girl found a trapdoor with the words TOP SECRET above it. "Alright, guys, I have a good feeling about this door," Mabel said before opening it.

Everyone watched as a memory of a shirtless Stan played with his belly button, giving it a voice and feeding it. Y/n almost gagged at the sight.

"Sweet sally!" Exclaimed Mabel.

"Oh, we've been searching forever! What if the triangle guy finds the memory before we do?" Soos expressed his uncertainty.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at the handyman. It wasn't like Soos to worry. In fact, he's been taking this situation very lightly– making dumb jokes, laughing at the memories, and smiling with Mabel. Something weird was going on, but she didn't know what.

Mabel placed a finger on her chin. "If we wanna find Stan's memory, we gotta think like Stan. He's always hiding stuff, right?"

Soos smiled, "Yeah! Like how he hides his arrest warrants under that rug in the gift shop?"

Wait, how did he know that?

Y/n felt a shiver running down her spine at the information. Only she knew that because she's the one hiding them under that rug.

"Soos-?"

Her question died in her throat when Mabel found the same exact-looking rug in one of the hallways. "Guys, look!" She pulled off the carpet and lo and behold, there was a random trapdoor. Mabel opened the door, and there Stan was, walking towards his vault with the deed in his hands. He placed it inside before closing the safe. He inputted the code, but Y/n closed the door just as Stan almost finished his sentence.

"Ok, we found it," she said. "Now let's destroy it."

Mabel smiled without a care in the world. "Good idea, Y/n! That way Bill wouldn't be able to get his hands on it."

Yeah, and even if the memory was disintegrated, Y/n knew the code. And even if Bill somehow got a hold of it and gave it to Gideon, she could easily change the code to the safe before Gideon could break in again.

She just didn't want to let him win.

Mabel saw a nearby ax and was about to hand it to Y/n until Soos stepped in between the two. "Wait! Maybe I should do it. My big fat arms are great at destroying stuff!"

Okay, Soos was bothering her now, but she refused to admit it. What happened to the Soos who had put his trust in her to do the job? Oh, it didn't appear to be the real Soos when he lifted the door with psychic power. A blue aura shone through the door.

"Hey, guys! I just saw a memory of Stan roller skating and wearing short-shorts!"

Their attention turned to the other Soos who was unaware of everything that happened. The first Soos laughed– his voice different now. At least he found it funny.

His two eyes become one and his body morphed back to a yellow floating triangle paired with a bowtie and tophat. He was floating again. "I knew it," Y/n seethed under her breath.

"Sure, you 'knew it'," Bill mocked through quotes. "Pretend you're the smartest in the room,"

She glowered more. She didn't like people belittling her intelligence.

"Face it, you won't beat me! You all are simply too gullible for a powerful guy like me." If he had a mouth, he would be smirking. "Later, suckers!" He breezed away before the human eye could blink.

"Come on, we gotta save Stan!" Mabel exclaimed. Y/n was rearing for a fight and was ready to agree with the braces-wearing gal, until-

"What's the point?" A voice sounded from the end of the hall. Dipper descended from the set of stairs. He scowled. "Why should I save him, huh? I work for Stan day and night, and all he does in return is say he wants to get rid of me," the boy fumed.

The group was quiet, until Mabel spoke. "Dipper, I'm sure that's not true," she reasoned, trying to ease his increasing temper. Leave it to Mabel to handle her brother's mood.

"I saw it with my own eyes in one of his memories, Mabel!" Dipper shouted. "He's always picked on me and now I know why. Stan hates me!" Then, his gaze flitted to the person standing behind. His glare only deepened. "Isn't that right, Y/n?"

Soos and the rest gasped at Dipper's accusation.

"What?" Y/n croaked a response. She wondered how she got reeled into the conversation between the twins.

"You were there," he began. "You asked Stan why he picks on me all the time, and you heard his answer."

She couldn't say anything.

"I'm weak, an utter embarrassment and Stan just wants to get rid of me. Does that ring a bell?" Dipper emphasized his phrases, and each time she felt guilt running across her veins. Upon seeing her face shift into one of shame, he grew even more angry.

Mabel stepped in, not wanting to waste any more time. "Dipper, it doesn't matter what you saw. If we don't stop Bill, we'll lose the Shack!"

"No!" He whirled to her. "You know what? Not this time. For once this is one of Stan's problems I'm not gonna fix." He folded his arms and stepped back.

Mabel narrowed her eyes. "Fine. Come on, Y/n, we'll save Stan ourselves."

When she heard her name, Y/n was startled and hesitantly stepped forward. The rest of the group followed Mabel, eventually leaving the two in the hall. Dipper was glaring so hard at the ground, he could practically ignite a fire with his gaze.

Y/n bit her lip in anticipation. "Dipper, I'm not sure what memory you saw in there, but you know Stan will always have an underlying meaning with his words." She had a feeling that what he saw wasn't all there is to it. There must be some way to convince him otherwise, but she didn't have time. "I hope you change your mind in saving him."

She waited, hoping for a shift in his resolve. He didn't move.

She left.

The group ran after the yellow triangle, following the path of destruction he left behind. There was one hall where all the doors of memories were opened so they ventured through. Mabel brought out a nyarf gun that she was hiding in her sweater's pocket the whole time.

Y/n heard a distorted voice in the next hall and urged the others to stay quiet. They followed her steps to the monochromatic corridor to see Bill talking to Gideon. He was on his way to disclose the code to him just as Mabel aimed for the trapdoor before firing. The plastic bullet directly hit the door, smacking it out of Bill's hand and tumbling towards one of Stan's memories of the Bottomless Pit.

Bill chased after the falling door with a scream. "Ah! No, no, no! Wait, no!"

The Stan in the memory watched as the door entered the pit and was plunged into the darkness. "Whoo! Whatever that was, it's gone forever!"

The door closes, leaving Bill petrified. Y/n stood proud of Mabel while the others cheered her on.

"She did it!" The two brightly colored men bellowed and gave each other a high five.

Soos raised his fist. "The Shack is safe!"

"The deal's off!" Gideon hissed.

Bill stuttered, "Wa-wait, no! Wait-!"

"I'm switchin' to plan B!"

The call ended before Bill could reply, and theatrically, his yellow body cracked into pieces and fell to the ground as if he wasn't of use anymore. His triangle form came back, but this time, it was bright red– like a warning sign and the edges of his shape illuminated like lightning.

He turned around and glared fiercely. "You! You can't even imagine what you just cost me! Do you have any idea what I'm like when.. I'm... mad?!" He roared the last part in a low, demonic voice.

Immediately, Y/n pushed Mabel back and shielded them. Bill wasn't playing anymore.

Several foreign characters passed by Bill's singular eye. The letters reflected on them, and Y/n could recognize some of them but she didn't entirely know what it meant.

All of a sudden, they were surrounded by tall fire. Encircling around them as if creating a cage, a trap. With no escape. Bill raised his hands and the fire only grew bigger until it was a wall of hot, scorching fire.

They were lifted off into the boundless panorama of inky blue, pink, and dark purple, littered with stars.

On the other end of the arena, Bill made himself bigger, towering over them like a skyscraper. Instinctively, the group huddled closer. They had nowhere to go. Behind them was the edge of the platform and one misstep might cause their demise. Meanwhile, in front of them was a raging demon who didn't get what he wanted. Y/n wanted to think that this is just a giant baby who's having a tantrum...

...who has the power to eradicate their existence with a snap of his fingers.

"EAT NIGHTMARES" Bill declared, his hands producing electricity, flowing towards them.

"AHHHHH!"

Meanwhile, the boy in a pinetree hat was desperately looking for a way out of here. He was helpless as he opened almost every door that might be the exit, but to no avail. "Ugh, how do I get out of this place?" He spoke to no one else in particular. "Exit? Hello?"

He opened a completely random door, but it turned out it was the same memory of him chopping wood. "Aw, this again?" he grumbled, his anger coming back in less than a second, but he was just exhausted.

However, he didn't close the door. Not yet. It was pathetic of him to listen to it again. Maybe it's just he was hoping it wasn't the same set of words he heard earlier. Maybe he just heard it wrong. Maybe Stan didn't really say those things.

"He's a loser. He's weak. I just want to get rid of him."

Yeah, why did he even bother expecting a different scenario?

Dipper started closing the door, but memory Stan continued. "Hah, yeah. Those are all things people said about me when I was a boy."

"Huh?" He opened the door again to get a closer hearing.

"It was terrible. I was the biggest wimp on the playground!"

A door opened behind Dipper. A memory. A younger Stan– a kid, stood under the rain and received a soccer ball to the face, displacing his square-framed glasses. He sobbed before running away, boisterous laughter followed him.

"So one summer, my pop signs me up for boxing lessons. It was even worse than the school yard!"

A door opened, playing the exact memory. Young Stan was pinned to the ground by a kid twice his size. "Left hook!" He punched his opponent. Someone watching from the shadows– his dad, nodded approvingly.

"Y'know, at the time, I thought my pop was trying to torture me!" Stan's voice continued.

Another door. It was of teenage Stan lining up at the local theater. Grandpa The Kid was showing, and he was outside, waiting in a line.

"But wouldn't you know it? The old man was doin' me a favor all along!"

A suspicious-looking man came up behind a woman while Stan was up front. "Give me that bag!"

"Help! My purse! Help!" The woman screamed.

"LEFT HOOK!" Teenage Stan bravely turned around and punched the guy in the face, knocking him out.

The people around him began cheering for him. The lady gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"So that's why I'm hard on Dipper," Stan told Y/n in the memory. "To toughen him up. So when the world fights he fights back. Look, it's working."

They watched as Dipper successfully chopped the wood in half. "I... I did it!" Memory Dipper was ecstatic. "Haha, yes!"

Memory Y/n couldn't help but smile.

"He's really comin' along!" Stan said with a smile. "When push comes to shove, I'm actually proud of him... just- don't ever tell him that. His head's big enough as it is."

She smirked at that, shaking her head.

Dipper from outside the door, grinned and placed a hand on the memory. But the memory hadn't installed some kind of invisible wall. Dipper accidentally fell into the memory, facing Stan and Y/n.

The two glanced at the other Dipper still very much chopping wood before reverting back to the Dipper who had just evaded their conversation. "Whoa, kid, what are you doin' here? Want a soda?" Stan flamboyantly flipped a hand and the can appeared in his hold.

"Wha- what the- how did you do that?" Dipper stuttered in wonder.

Y/n leaned on Stan's side, facing Dipper. "Word to the wise, Dip. We're in the mind! You could do whatever you can imagine here!" She demonstrated, generating two cans before outstretching her hand towards him, but he didn't take it. "What's wrong?" She tilted her head.

"I... I'm sorry,"

She hummed in intrigue.

"You were right," Dipper said. "Stan does have an underlying meaning with his words. He doesn't hate me. I didn't mean to be mad at you."

A short laugh resounded. Y/n smiled widely, "Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a memory. Although, judging from your apology, it seemed that you didn't see the entire picture until now. So if it was up to me, I forgive you."

Dipper smiled gently.

"But you should probably be saying that to the real me. I'm sure she's still thinking of how to make it up to you. Just explain and I'm sure she'd forgive you too."

He eventually took the Pitt Cola in her hand and opened it. But before he could take a sip, he heard sounds; Bill's maniacal laughter, Mabel's screams, Soos' shouts, and Y/n's yells.

"Oh my gosh, what am I doing? I gotta stop Bill!" Dipper blurted out, leaving the can of soda behind.

Stan watched his great nephew go. "Huh. Fighting back."

Meanwhile, the gang was still being tormented by the giant, red Bill Cipher. "One nightmare, coming up!"

"Nightmare?" Soos asked anticipatingly. "Hope he doesn't mean that British dog man I'm always dreaming about."

A bright red laser zapped a spot beside Soos and indeed, a British dog man appeared in front of him. Mabel was hit by the red beam too, and her nightmare came true. Her skin changed into a sickly green hue and her braces were unbelievably bigger. Her voice changed low and slow. "What did you do to my cuteness!"

Bill didn't spare Xyler and Craz as well, getting knocked out by Bill's ray of light. They burned and vanished into space. "My dream boys!" Mabel cried out

"Don't think I forgot about you, Daisy!" Bill rubbed his hands together as he prepared a bigger laser. He pointed his black finger at her as she prepared for his attack. What are her nightmares consisted of? Sure, she is plagued with a constant state of anxiety but fear is a trivial thing to her. She began listing off things she's afraid of, and things she wasn't. Monsters don't scare her, poison is the least of her worries, bugs and creepy crawlers fascinate her...

"Hey, Bill!"

Dipper swooped into the scene like a superhero, flying around with a bright blue glow surrounding him.

Bill stopped in his movements, his eye widening at the sight of Pinetree. "WHAT?!" He was stunned. Who told Dipper that everything is possible in the mind?

"Nice bow tie!" The boy made a hole in Bill with lasers from his eyes, causing him to scream in a panic.

"Dipper!" Mabel exclaimed in joy.

Dipper grinned back. "Guys! I just learned that you can conjure whatever you can conceive in Grunkle Stan's mindscape!"

Well how about that. Y/n looked excited, while Soos and Mabel remained confused. "Huh?"

"You can do whatever you can imagine!" She looked down at the gaping hole in her chest and when she lifted a finger, she was whole again.

"Woah!" The two gasped. Soos stretched a palm and the British dog man disappeared. "Ha, ha. He's dead now."

"What?!" Bill shouted, "Who told you that?! Don't listen to him!"

"We can do anything?" Mabel asked, a sense of exhilaration coursing through her. She made herself go back to normal. "Like have kittens for fists?" Immediately, her small knuckles turned into precious pink furballs. She began shooting them towards Bill, kitten heads firing from her sleeves.

Bill screamed, either from fear or annoyance- no one could tell- as the kitties bunched up and covered the large triangle area.

"Anything, huh? Soos loves stomach beam stare!!!" Those were all words.

Colorful question marks blasted from Soos' tummy and aimed directly at Bill's face. The being tumbled away.

Y/n bounced into the air freely, before doing a twirl and summoning a large sledgehammer and gracefully slamming it down his eye.

"AHH! Oh, my eye! AH!" Bill writhed in pain, kneeling down.

Mabel lifted her arms. "Rise, Xyler! Rise, Craz!" The two radiant boys emerged behind her back with musical instruments. Xyler played a key-tar while Craz handled the electric drum kit.

"No! Synthesized music! It hurts!"

This powerful being had some weird weaknesses.

"And now to imagine your worst nightmare," Dipper pointed at the triangle. "A portal out of Stan's mind!"

Mabel sang, "Out of Stan's mi-ind~!"

The gang closed their eyes tightly as a portal materialized under Bill's feet, planning to swallow him down. "No, no, no!" Bill wailed before he made everything white. Everyone was floating in nothingness. He became yellow again as he dusted his top hat. "You know, I'm impressed with you guy. You're a lot more clever than you look. Especially the fat one."

Soos leaned down and elbowed Mabel slightly, dropping his voice into a whisper. "He's talking about you!"

Bill spoke again, placing his hands on his side. "So I'm gonna let you kids off the hook. You might come in handy later. BUT KNOW THIS: A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when everything you care about will change!" A six-fingered hand appeared on top of Bill- like a symbol. A sign. A forewarning.

"Until then I'll be watching you!" He tipped his hat in farewell. "I'll be watching you...!"

A wheel with eleven distinct symbols hovered around Bill, illuminating a bright blue. Y/n wasn't sure if she's seen this exact image before. And if she did, she must've forgotten. Before she knew it, Bill disappeared, his voice echoing. He'll be watching.

Eventually, their bodies began flickering rapidly. "Stan must be waking up."

"Will I ever see you guys again?" Mabel asked the two boys.

"In your dreams."

The group woke up on the living room floor, shouting in surprise. "We did it!" Mabel cheered after a moment of silence.

"What? Did what?" Stan voiced out, scratching his head. "What are you all doing here? And why was I dreaming of two brightly colored and radical young men?"

"Grunkle Stan, you 're okay!" Dipper expressed glee as he went to hug Stan. The older man was frozen in his seat, exchanging glances with Y/n who feigned the same expression.

"What is this, a hug?"

"Nope!" Dipper remained cheerful. "It's a choke hold." He went behind Stan and proceeded to wrap his arms around his neck tightly, making him squirm in his seat. Mabel, Soos, and Y/n laughed at that.

Dipper eventually let go as Stan chuckled. "Not bad, kid. Not bad." They shared a content look.

"I'm just glad Gideon didn't get into the safe. I really love this old shack."

"GROUP HUG!" Soos declared out of nowhere. No one batted an eye. He paused. "No?" He frowned. "I never know the right time!"

"I'll hug you, Soos," Y/n said, enclosing her arms around Soos' stomach. He gladly returned the embrace.

Dipper pouted. "Hey, I want a h-" The Shack began to shake, cutting Dipper off. "Hey, do you guys feel...?"

An explosion blew up and burst through the living room. It came from the office, launching everyone off. The quintet watched Gideon walk out of the destroyed wall. The vault was torn open, the furniture were wrecked, and the deed was in his hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pines family. Did I wake you?" He asked in feign pity.

"But... we defeated Bill...!" Dipper was confused.

Gideon retaliated, "Bill failed me! So I switched to plan B: dynamite!"

"What? Bill? Who?" Stan was left puzzled. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Spoiler alert, Stanford! I've got the deed! The Mystery Shack belongs to me! So get off my property!" Gideon then brought out a handheld transceiver, striding back. "Daddy? Bring it around the front."

"Don't worry, guys! It's just part of the dream!" Dipper tried to assure, but he wasn't even certain himself. "We're gonna wake up any second now! Right?"

Right?

***

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 18!

kimmiepines originally published: may 22, 2023 words: 11,003 words

LW ZDV QLFH VHHLQJ BRX DJDLQ

[4sk-0liver4nd3milly]

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U-uh... H-hi everyone! my name is Oliver but if you want to call me Ollie i don't mind! -OP Oliver, (he/they are an anxious little mochi person, he/they are really friendly and adorable in every single possible way! please, be gentle with him/them... they/he would be a dandere type).

Hello, the name's Emilly... and i want to be called THAT way. -OP Emilly, (she/they are like a hard jawbreaker: sweet but also really, REALLY hard to crack open... i wouldn't nag her if i were you... they/she would be either a shundere or kuudere type, or even maybe both)

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H-hahaha...! Emmy, please...! we need to be nice with our readers! (·•᷄_•᷅ )

. . .Fine... but i still don't want to be called Emmy by others... it... feels weird...

Alrighty then! i guess we should introduce ourselves to them, right Emmy? (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

hm, sure... whatever... ( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,)

Good! now let's get started! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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We both live on a small town named "Telltown"! some of you have probably have heard of it! this is the town where the greatest, the most evil and cutest villain lives: Dr.Phantasmo~! -OP Oliver

and his arch-nemesis (and honestly even more cuter than him): Charlie Champ. she was also known as "lily" but she decided to change her name to suit her growing popularity... (to be honest... fair... she really is a champ~) -OP Emilly

My pronouns are: he/him//they/them and Emilly's are: she/her//they//them! We are both genderfluid and we love everyone for who they are! -OP Oliver

they (Ollie) meant we are both pansexuals. -OP Emilly

We both have the same age and Brazilians! -OP Oliver

uhhm... what do we say now...?

Hmm... O-Oh...! we could talk about our hobbies and jobs!

Hm. k.

Okay! my favorite hobbies are: creating things (i'm an inventor! i love cogs and machinery!), reading, cooking (although my cooking are very simple things... but hey! at least i won't starve to death when Morgel isn't around! :D) and consuming mangas and anime! woohoo! -OP Oliver

Mine's are sewing and doing crochet dolls, collecting buttons, reading and baking... i hate cooking... i can only cook with Oliver or Morgel's help... they forgot to say it but they also love decorating my desserts, right Ollie? -OP Emilly

Yup~!

So... now we should talk about our jobs... right...?

Oh! you know what? we forgot to present Morgel to our readers!

oh... you are right... sorry Morgel...

(it's all right, i want you two to show the world yourselves first, i can introduce myself on other posts.)

if you say so...

Alright! but don't be shy when you want to say what's on your mind to our readers! after all that's what the internet is for! :3 Emmy, i think you should say first what you work with! (it's far more interesting than what i do anyway :p)

Alright...

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I work with nude art (and nude sculptures) and on a maid cafe called "Sweet Cinnamon Babes"... drop on by if that's your thing... your turn Ollie... -OP Emilly

A-ah...! already?? o-okay then...! i work home office!. . . yeah... not a "very interesting" activity... but it does pay well... i guess... Alright! let's change the topic! Emmy: who do you admire the most?? Morgel doesn't count and neither Tippa... (btw, Tippa is Emmy's emotinal support pet! she's a cute little mouse!) -OP Oliver

Ah... i would say... Charlie... she's just so... dashing and strong and intelligent and~♡-

Okay, okay... i said who do you admire... not who you drool over like a lovestruck idiot...

WHY YOU-! at LEAST I do NOT simp over an absolute asshole of a ghost like Phantasmo!

You do though~

NO I DON'T!!

don't shout and yes you doooo~~~

Stop being childish!

Nope~ ;P

(while these two are fighting, yet again..., i shall write some boundaries for this... blog... also some rules to make sure this is a safe place for them and for you readers):

Do's:

you all may send any kind of questions for them as long as they are not: hateful, spams and/or inappropriate... now, what, exactly would be inappropriate vastly depends on what I deem inappropriate... so, please be considerative and have some common sense before typing something you may regret if you make this place uncomfotable for them... (this is a threat) (but do not worry... much... 18+ questions are (frankly sadly) allowed... because, as much as I personally hate the very idea of sex and everything that is releated to that... i know when to treat my two children (i know they are not children but please bear with me) like the very mature adults that they are. (they are both 22 years old young adults)

you all may do "fanart" of us if you all want to.

you all may give us "suggestions" or "requests" (like do some silly trend challenge or... something else... i honestly not as good with creativity as my two "children", but, if you all want to be creative, go ahead. just remember: don't go too crazy... okay?)

you all may do... *sighs* "anon magic"... but nothing embarassing them, okay? good. (also that's the only reason why i am allowing such thing: because Ollie has always loved "anon magic". so... here we are... and don't use the anon asks for ANYTHING else. just "anon magic"... why? because i've seen what some of you are capable of... and honestly it sickens me. so that's why i am ONLY allowing for you all to use the "anon asks": just to entertain them and others with silly shenanigans. if I see any of you trying something "funny" behind anonymity... i am going to turn off the option until you all can behave.

you all may write stories featuring us (if you want to), but keep in mind that it may not be canonical to our story...

Don't's:

Even if, somehow, some of you want to draw some... ahem, "spicy" drawings of us... here's some things we won't allow (and i WILL even block if i deem too inappropriate):

R4p3

P3d0ph1l14

N4z1

H4rdc0r3 F3t1sh3s

1nc3$t

i think that's it... (but if you want to draw us, keep that in mind and know that besides from the things we won't allow, all the rest is allowed... urgh, just don't draw me in compromising poses or... worse... and to the younger readers that stumble upon this blog, worry not, for i will put a warning if something similar of this naughty nature appears on our asks. (and i kindly ask you, younger readers to NOT see if i put the warnings on a post to exactly NOT to view said post.))

Hateful speech won't be allowed nor answered (i will block you if you do so)

Political speech will also not be allowed (we'll just erase your ask and ignore you if you do)

Please, i kindly ask you readers to NOT bring any unnecessary drama to this blog, we are not the news to cover this kind of thing. (nor a opinion blog or channel).

.

.

.

(and i believe that's all. Oliver and Emilly fell asleep from fighting... now if you excuse me readers, i shall place my "children" to bed. i really hope this blog distract them from... Oh! zippers! i am thinking out loud again...)

[elizabethplaid]

late-night-note - mouse trouble

I noticed my wireless mouse's clicky buttons weren't interpreting signals well tongiht, so I decided to open it up and shake out any debris. Yup, had a few choice dust bunnies just under the clicky bits. Easy fix!

Except... I had to move the scroll wheel to get to the bits. Dislodged that and the scroll-spring also came out. Pretty sure I faced this exact problem last summer. I distinctly remember looking up the solution on my phone, while the mouse was disassembled.

Pulled up the same tutorial, put the spring back in place. Uh, it's only hitting the rubbery edge and not the inner ratchet texture? Hm, maybe the wire got bent a bit wrong? Bendy wire, nope still not working. Maybe it needs to slide further over? Nope, that lets the spring sproing out of place.

Idk what else to do. Fussing around with the placement isn't getting me anywhere, even when I get it like the tutorial pictures. I can live without a scroll wheel. Hell, I didn't even have a right-click button when I first started using a computer! (Ye olde macintosh)

Here's the tutorial I used. I don't think mine is this exact model, but it's pretty close. There isn't a notch for the shorter leg of the spring to rest upon, so I just had it within that space. If someone wants to help, I can edit a pic to explain where things are.

Next step is to check my archive to see what solution I found. Otherwise, I'm shrugging it off for now. (Scrolling still works, just not precise)

[novelmonger]

My rambling thoughts on these games:

Paris 1313: The Mystery of Notre Dame - Honestly, not surprised nobody's played this one. It's probably the most obscure game I've ever played, and for good reason: it's also the worst game I've ever played XD I bought it because it looked like it was going to be like Myst. Well, it is a point-and-click adventure game, but it sucks. It's supposed to be a mystery about a suicide/murder of a clock maker working on the clock on Notre Dame Cathedral. You follow three people who are involved in some way, and you're supposed to be able to piece together what really happened by combining the information each of them find. All of the puzzles are very clunky and hard to complete. For one of them, you have to trace the VERY SPECIFIC AND INTRICATE outline of a flower in the soot of a fireplace, but if you mess up even slightly or accidentally let up on the mouse button, you have to start all the way over again. And then there was a "combine parts of sentences together to make clues" puzzle...but it was all in French. Even though this game is in English. And there is no help given. So it was trial and error the whole way through -_- Add to that all the glitches and some hideous graphics (even for 1999), and it's just a horrible game no matter how you look at it. The one good thing about this game is that it actually has pretty good music. When it would remember to play it ◔_◔

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - This one wasn't a very good game either, if I'm being honest ^^' I remember it glitching a lot, and the level design was...interesting. And the broomstick controls were awful. But it did give me the spell "Flipendo," which I will still occasionally quote to this day (my siblings and I would make fun of it by saying "Nintendo!" with the same inflection when we'd turn on our N64 :P), and it was fun to run around Hogwarts. And they actually had Peeves! Kind of impressive, considering he was completely cut out of the movies and this was ostensibly a movie tie-in game.

Star Wars: The Force Unleashed - I was told I would feel like I was actually using the Force if I played the Wii version. I did not :( It's been so long, I honestly don't remember much about the story, but uh...I guess it was nice there were multiple endings? I feel like they could definitely have done better with the Wii version of this game with the MotionPlus add-on....

Final Fantasy I - What a classic. I played the GBA remake, and I had to keep a notebook beside me to keep track of all the sidequests that came up XD I wish I could remember what my party consisted of, since this is the one Final Fantasy that doesn't have pre-existing characters with backstories and personalities and everything. The soundtrack is still so good, too; I love "Matoya's Cave" especially.

Lighthouse: The Dark Being - Also not surprised this didn't get any votes. Another obscure Myst wannabe, though this one was actually not too bad. It's been a while, so I don't really remember how everything went, but it's something like a portal to another world opens up in your house, and a creature comes through it and steals your baby? And so then you have to go through the portal and hunt down the creature through this other world to get your child back. I don't remember whether you ever find out how the portal got there or why the creature wants your baby, but yeah. Kind of a creepy game, but I liked it.

Math Blaster: In Search of Spot - Classic. You solve simple math problems and zap asteroids and garbage floating around in space as you search for your missing robot. I would usually make my brother play it, though, because games with any sort of time limit or possibility of Game Over stressed me out too much when I was the right age for this game ^^'

Emily Is Away - Kind of a cute concept, hitting the nostalgia with the old chatroom look. I didn't personally find the story that interesting or relatable, though (particularly because I was playing as me and there's a possibility to pursue a romance between the player and Emily). And the illusion of typing out IM texts broke pretty quickly as I ended up just keyboard-smashing my way through.

Lifeless Planet - This was a weird game, but I had fun with it. Basically, you're the only survivor of a crash-landing on a distant planet, and so you end up wandering around alone through the wilderness...until you stumble upon an abandoned Soviet base??? How did that get out here? It was just intriguing enough to hold my interest all the way through, and I liked that the emphasis was always on exploration. It wasn't an especially pretty game, but it was interesting to explore.

Arbitrarily-Chosen Video Game Tournament, Round 1.1

Welcome to the Arbitrarily-Chosen Video Game Tournament, where we will find out which of the games I've played is the best game of all time!

Why? Don't ask. Just vote and reblog!

[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

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