#this au has been bouncing around my brain since I made it help

[foxesfantasys]

Danny is a two for one deal.

Double Trouble AU Phantom and Fenton

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

@gilbirda Ok, so you made a snippet of on of your AUs a while back (braindead rejected! soulmate i think) and I haven't been able to think of much else since. So my brain made a little thingy for you!

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

1. Tim takes a risk one day by writing back to whoever was doodling on his body, with a glittery purple gel pen, asking them to stop trying to contacting him.

All the person asked was, "Why?"

Tim never answers.

2. Danny faces constant rejection from his peers, authority figures, his parents and sister neglect him and now his own soulmate doesn't want him. They hadn't even met before he was rejected. Jazz finds out about Dannys powers and tries to reach out but Danny rejects her pretty violently due to his own pain. Then the episode where Sam and Tucker ditch him for Gregor happens and he gives up.

The two people in his life that has had pretty much complete control over his life and trajectory just abandoned him and he does not take it well. He ripped the symbol off his chest, disappeared and never came back.

3. Danny zooms into a new dimension/universe/whatever to avoid his former friends and family from being able to track him only to land in a place called Central City and immediately getting roped into helping Captain Cold who gives him a normal domino mask and they end up working together for a while.

4. Danny somehow overhears one of the speedster talking on the phone about his friends brothers soulmate issue at some point and they perfectly describe the interaction that happened between Danny and his soulmate all those years ago, down to the glittery purple gel pen and the types of doodles Danny had made as a kid and the things he said.

Danny learned one of his soulmates belonged to a group of detective vigilantes in a place called Gotham. Unfortunately he was spotted by the speedster and Danny had to bounce.

5. The Flash made reports to the Justice League about a meta teen who hes been having trouble with for a while and can't seem to pin down. He only asked for tips though as he "could handle it himself."

6. Danny leaves for Gotham and learned about Catwoman and Batmans weird Master Thief and Greatest Detective dynamic and decided that's what he wants to do. He was going to make his soulmate chase after him one way or another. Someone was going to want him even if they were wanting him behind bars.

He begins robbing bank vaults and museums, leaving no trace or clue as to what happened until he starts leaving a calling card of sorts.

7. Jason, who's been on the outs with his family lately meets this spunky white haired meta kid running around with a sci-fi mask/visor thing and giving supplies to homeless encampments and keeping the less fortunate alive and befriends him. He learns that this is the guy everyone has been searching for and just...tells no one. Jason is all for a Robin Hood vigilante, and really, its kinda funny to see his family squirm.

8. Phantom and Catwoman rob the same museum at the same time but for different things. They stare at eachother from where they're both still crouched from thier respective landings until Danny breaks the tension with "I didn't see you if you didn't see me?"

Catwoman laughs, amused. "Sure."

9. Danny finally narrowed down which of the batfam is his soulmate and introduced himself to them as Phantom.

The first thing Danny did was hit on Tim. Tim is flustered but otherwise doesn't really respond to it and tries to fight Phantom into submission, so of course Danny ghosts him by disappearing through a roof mid fight. Danny made a big show of his intangibility in that fight and made it seem like it was the only power he had but he was very skilled with it and he wanted to impress him.

10. Phantom becomes well known to the underbelly of Gotham. Mostly the homeless and nightworkers. But Danny was open and friendly. Never judging and always ready to lend a helping hand. Even better. He never came to collect on favors.

Over time, they became loyal to him.

11. Danny gets framed for a series of murders and the whole gang (minus Hood) are trying to capture him, thus, motorcycle chase scene. They use the white of his tires to tell when he's gone intangible due to all the dirt falling off the wheels. Nightwing jumps onto the bike and shocks Danny with his encrizma sticks right before Danny grits out "bye bye birdy~" and makes a big show of taking in a deep breath and holding it.

Nightwing is forced to jump off the bike as Danny runs through the concrete abutment of the overpass and coming out the other side

12. Danny meets Tim and Duke in his civilian form while he was at a Wayne tech conference. Danny had been asked about one of his inventions and was trying to show off the blueprints and explain things and thats why he was there in the first place. Duke of course, was internally screaming because that's the guy thats the guy they've been hunting for nearly a year but can find nothing on.

Red Robin confronts Phantom that night on a rooftop and Phantom laughs at him, "Thats why I was avoiding Signal for so long. He'd see my magical girl form and know instantly."

RR holds out a pair of handcuffs and says "Its over Danny." Phantom smirks and says, "I don't think it is, Tim" before jumping off onto a different roof and disappearing into the night. Tim is shook.

13. Danny over hears Robin berating RR at an old clocktower and intervenes, "Little Wayne, you do realize you were the first person I figured out, right?"

Damian proceeds to lose his mind.

14. Tim accidentally finds a material that Phantom can't phase through and quickly gets to work making things he can use against Danny. What he doesn't know is that Danny can phase through it he just pretended he couldn't because he wanted to see what would happen/what Tim would do.

Danny can sense the material and it feels really wierd to him, but doesn't harm him at all.

15. RR manages to knock Phantoms visor off his face and realizing it was made of tech he swipes it and brings it back to the cave for study.

He wasn't ready for all the information on the computer. Not only was his nemesis(?) from another plain of reality (he thinks Danny is from the ghost zone) but he was once a superhero with his own Rogues Gallery and human city to protect. Which begs the question, why did he become a Phantom thief?

16. The Joker hears about Phantom giving the bats the run around and comes to a misunderstanding about which bat he's been messing with which ultimately ends with Joker saying that he is Batmans ultimate nemesis and Phantom asking what that had to do with him? The misunderstanding is cleared up when Phantom complained about Joker even thinking that he was flirting with Batman because "Ew! He's an old man!"

Joker still got a few shots in for the heck of it but so did our ghost boy but they were no longer enemies.

17. The whole batfam had been freaking out about finally capturing Phantom and celebrating and plotting on how they were gonna get him to keep his mouth shut about thier identities until Jason came in,

Jason: Need help?

Phantom: Please?

Jason: *escapes with Danny*

Batfam: What?! No!!! Why?!

18. The batfam have only a vague idea of the Robin Hood thing going on. They know he's doing it just not to the extent its gone to. They find out later on that Phantom had been working with RH and his gang to sell off the items and most of the profits go to helping people. Other times he strait up gives jewelry and whatnot to children and working girls because "Everyone deserves something pretty, and even if its not your style you can keep it for a rainy day"

Phantom quickly gains a following and Danny doesn't even know about it. Clueless indeed.

19. Dannys main motivation in this is essentially just playing Cops and Robbers with Red Robin. Nothing else really matters to him. Not the robberies, not the fact he's working with a crime lord, not even his own safety matters much to him anymore. Hes readily zooming down the path of self destruction and Hood starts telling his family stuff, but only because he was genuinely worried about "Casper" crashing and burning.

20. No one knows why Phantom is fixated on Red Robin. He refuses to tell them. Red thinks its just because he's the smartest of the bats and he's not entirely wrong.

21. Danny legit started scheduling his heists with Tim to ensure they're both free after one couldn't make it too many times which blew the birds mind. Phantom must have been just that confident that he would always win. The bats eventually think Danny will stop stealing if RR isn't in the city for a long period of time. Danny more or less followed him and stole stuff from whatever city Tim was in. If there wasn't any museums or banks then Danny would steal a local landmark. Tim still wasn't sure how Phantom stole an entire building that one time but it had never been seen since.

22. Hood grows to be very protective of our favorite ghost boy. They bond and are actually really close. Danny admits he always wanted an older brother.

23. Tim goes off world for a while to see how Danny would react and Danny just...drops off the radar. No one knows where he is and after a week or two they start getting worried.

Tim returns after three months and Danny reappears two weeks after him with a tan and keepsakes from the places he visited on his vacation. Tim later screams into his pillow.

24. Tim has made it his personal mission to figure out who Danny really is, why he's fixated on him, where he came from, ect. Hes trying so hard but can't find anything. Its almost like he didn't exist before. Tim suddenly got an idea after Phantom accidentally got hit in the face and got a nosebleed. Tim saw green blood and immediately realized Danny might not even be human. Fortunately for our little ghost, he thinks he's an alien. A Martian specifically. Tim manages to snag a good sample from treating Phantoms wounds. Ghostboy was so focus on his core thrumming and mentally comparing it to his heart racing that he didn't even notice.

25. Tim later freaks out because the meta is freaking made out of Lazarus water.

The entire batfam was not happy to discover this and decided to work together to pressure Phantom into telling them what he was and what exactly he wanted.

[mochiwrites]

I desperately need to do something with this secret life au I have bouncing around in my brain. so! snippet/warm up time.

( it’d be really cool if I got any asks about it. and maybe some reblogs 👉👈 )

———————————

Grian’s wings flutter at his sides as he stands before the Secret Keeper. He feels his feathers ruffle with the wind as a breeze goes past, the wings at his head twitching. He’s oblivious to the world around him, eyes glued to the mossy rock formation in front of him. It’s a good thing it isn’t night, else Grian could be at risk of losing very precious hearts if a mob were to sneak up on him.

Though that isn’t something he has to worry about, not at the Secret Keeper statue.

He purses his lips, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes practically burn holes into the statue. Or well, they probably would, if the statue were made from something flammable. He feels like he’s entered a staring contest with the Secret Keeper, a weird feeling for a lifeless statue.

Except this statue doesn’t feel very lifeless. It’s been making Grian a bit uneasy since the game began, leaving him to wonder if They did something to it.

There’s certainly something odd about the statue, Grian knows this for sure. He’s felt drawn to it since the game began, like it’s been calling to him. Whispering at him. He isn’t exactly the Listening type, it’s all lost on him. His Eyes don’t do him much either, unfortunately.

“What is it about you?” he muses, speaking to a statue that cannot speak back. He stares at its face, the wide eyes and curved mouth that seems frozen in a smirk. The hood looks like it’s been intricately cut out in the stone, like someone had been an agonizingly long time into making sure it was perfect.

This isn’t the first time Grian has done this, just stared up at the Secret Keeper. He can’t help it. The statue feels so familiar, like Grian has seen it somewhere before. No… maybe it’s more than that.

It’s like Grian knows this statue, the Secret Keeper. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, tugging on some part of him that he doesn’t have access to. It tugs on his soul, his very being and essence, and like being led by string, Grian finds himself back here every time.

He doesn’t understand.

Grian takes a step forward, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. The wings of his feathers fluff up. “Who are you to me?” he questions, desperate for some kind of answer. “Why do I feel like I know you?” It’s pointless, he knows. A statue isn’t going to suddenly start speaking to him. It’s inanimate. Stone. It will not answer. Yet Grian stubbornly asks his questions anyway.

He stares up at the statue, frustration dipping his brow as his lips tilt low.

“Whatcha doing?”

A startled squawk sounds from Grian as he turns around on his heel, brown eyes meeting blue. He finds the amused face of Martyn, forcing the avian to let out a breath.

“Martyn,” he sighs, “You can’t do that, man!”

Martyn immediately breaks into laughter, very clearly finding enjoyment from Grian’s reaction. “Sorry, sorry! You make it too easy dude. You’re even easier to sneak up on than Timmy is.”

Grian looks at him as if offended by the comment, “I’ll have you know that Tim is very easy to startle. You just sneak up on me when I’m deep in thought!”

“Too busy ogling the Secret Keeper to notice me sneakin’ up, huh?” Martyn retorts, lips curling into a slight smirk.

“I wasn’t ogling it!” Grian’s wings fan out, flapping slightly in agitation. “I was studying it!”

Martyn hums, not buying Grian’s excuse but not bothering to call him out on it. “And what were you ‘studying’ this time, Grian?”

He pauses now, steam being pushed out of him at Martyn’s question. His wings drop along with his shoulders as he lets out a quiet breath, turning his attention back to the statue. He doesn’t answer immediately, staring at it with a confused expression. “This might sound crazy but… does the Secret Keeper feel… familiar at all?” he slowly asks as he looks back to Martyn.

The man stares at him, looking absolutely lost, if a bit concerned. “You feeling alright dude? Or is this your task or something?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and no it’s not my task.” Grian frowns. “Can you just answer the question?” Thinly veiled patience is laced in his voice, something Martyn can pick out easily after having known Grian for so long.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs, directing his attention to the statue in front of them. He hums, narrowing his gaze slightly. “Nothin’ familiar about it I’m afraid. Creepy smile though.”

“Creepy?” Grian parrots, joining Martyn in looking at the statue. He frowns faintly, “I don’t know… I think it’s kinda nice. Cheeky. A bit silly, y’know? The smile of someone mischievous.”

Martyn turns to look back at Grian, eyes shining with soft concern, “Look, Grian, unless your task is to spend hours ogling this thing, you might wanna get a move on. We’re in a death game, remember?” His stare turns a little colder, harsher. “We’re not gonna be all buddy buddy for very long.”

Grian knows he’s right. There’s no point in wasting time trying to figure out a brain puzzle with no clues. He’s not focusing on what’s important (isn’t the important thing that missing piece? The fracture somewhere?) and it could cost him greatly. Except his eyes trail back to the Secret Keeper’s gray ones (he wonders what they’d look like if they were green), staring at them. It’s like those eyes stare right back at him.

He frowns before sighing. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just hard not to be curious,” he weakly argues, shrugging. “I feel like I know him from someplace, except I don’t know where.”

Martyn is quiet for a moment, eyes faraway. “…I guess I get that,” he relents, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Have fun with your stone Romeo. I’m gonna hit the road and get back to completing my task.”

Grian makes a spluttering sound at that, “S-Stone Romeo?! It’s nothing like that!”

( Above them, the Secret Keeper watches on in sadness. This feels like some kind of punishment. It’s agony, torture. It’s worse than hiding away in his valley all alone, wishing for friends. He wants to reach out. ‘I’m right here!’ He wishes to scream.

He Watches as Grian spares him one last glance, hesitation in his expression. He turns on his heel and walks away.

Scar wishes he could call for him.)

[gaycavendish]

Mml time travelers trio au is sooooo good! No thoughts head empty just thinking abt how cute it is... <3 actually now I'm somewhat curious as to like what Sara is up to, or how they got started with it, or if it's set in the far off future too... !!! :^D

HEHE thank you :] !! Under a Read More, i got chatty!!!!

Sara may occasionally join them, especially when they first start, but ultimately she prefers enjoying time travel from the safety of the TV LOL. She for sure has hours long conversations with milo about their adventures though, keeps a log of differences between time travel in doctor zone and the real world. I think she and milo probably made the doctor zone parts of his costume together :]. Milo brings her trinkets and such from the future & past when she doesn’t join them!

For how they got started, Melissa and Milo already have interest in time travel and, coincidentally, contact with the guy who invents it! One step closer to being queen of the universe for Melissa (also that ep where she goes on a mission with Savannah lives in my mind rent free as proof melissa is good at + enjoys time traveling), and a possible career choice for milo, where hes able to do all sorts of things and go all sorts of places (and, most importantly, help people + hang out with his friends!), since he wasn’t sure during the career day episode, and at the time hadnt known Time Traveler to be a viable option LOL. As for Zack, I think he likes the adventure + the glamour! Still a little bit of lumberzack left in him, plus he likes to hang out with milo and melissa of course, and theyd get in too much trouble to handle without him. Melissa is their sort of mission finder, since she has a good word put in for her at the time bureau and can get information. Milo of course taking the time travel expert role, and Zack being their damage control + honestly communications expert. This is entirely headcanon zone for me but i think he has a knack for talking to aliens and people from nearly every time period. Our charismatic boy!!

Its not terribly far in the future! If i remember right, doofenschmirtz is supposed to invent time travel 12 years after the pnf effect, and i sort of picture him, maybe in the latter half of the 12 years, having prototypes that he lets milo test out (it ensures durability, no? ahaha). Milo is in pretty big trouble with the time bureau for. being Milo and in contact with the literal entire spacetime continuum, so they try to avoid going too close to the bureau during any times where Mr. Block is, well, alive. (guy is Mean! and milo doesnt want to get cavendish and dakota in trouble, since god knows block would assume it was them that gave milo access to time travel)

I hope this answers your questions : D!!!!! thank you for asking HEHE they have been bouncing around in my brain foreverrr

[awkwardgtace]

🛒, 👀 and 💖?

Ask Game

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I'd say an unreliable narrator is a common theme. Usually I write from a character's perspective so it's their thoughts regardless of what others in the story may think. I think a common theme is also acceptance despite the character's own beliefs. A lot of my characters have negative self views and those around them accept them no matter what. I think I focus on eyes a lot too. Like reading emotions in them, or misleading others with something about them. It feels like in gt eyes are gonna be the most obvious way to read a person so I make a lot of use of it! Idk about scenes and imagery too much though. I jump between eras and set ups so much it's hard to track :D

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

ooooh ok so I have like so many wips lol. I'll go with Mafia AU for it this time! I'm currently working on the story for why Alessia has a fear of being near humans when Ryder joins the family. It starts with her being excited and helpful to humans only for something to go wrong and doubt herself. It's not a ton of interactions, but shows a bit of how she's both like her family and very different from them. Also a bit of what she sees her parents as in that messed up world.

💖 What made you start writing?

Ok I'm gonna go with start writing GT but also a little of writing in general. so a bit of a long answer.

I kind of always wrote a lot. In high school (like over ten years ago lol) I would write during classes to help stay awake. I'd written poetry and stuff a lot before that. Books were super important to me so it was a natural extension.

In college I wrote a lot more since longer classes and less sleep lol. I was trying different things, less just self insert into my favorite anime and video games. I never posted and a lot of it did happen to involve fairies which were always a minor obsession of mine.

After college my writing mostly stopped cause the stress of job hunting and less free time all that shit. Plus the jobs i got were pretty shit starting out. (Fuck FDM idc if this secretly doxes me. No one should fall for their shit.)

Then in 2021 I was in a good job and I got back into tumblr and gt. I was reading stories and a lot just weren't quite what I wanted. So I decided to start writing my own stuff. I'd been sending asks on anon and interacting more so I posted my first story and tagged someone who's writing was closer to what I wanted.

It was like I opened a door I didn't realize I closed. It helped me get through a lot again, even though I'd started a better job and was handling things better than I had in 2020. It was also a way to finally kind of shut down my head. My mind runs a mile a minute so putting the ideas I'd had bouncing around into words helped me slow down. I kept going after the first few stories because I finally got to remember how much fun I had creating my worlds and characters. Worldbuilding remains something I get so much enjoyment out of!

So tldr, I started writing because it helped me think and stay awake in classes. I kept going cause classes got worse. I took a break and started up again finally getting to put my ideas out. It helped slow my head down and is just a lot of fun.

I hope this last answer makes sense It's a bit all over imo, but that's how my brain tends to be too lol

[tiredassmage]

bouncing off your cipher quinn au, tyr and quinn for the ship suggestion meme?

First of all, this ask made me date-check how long I've been contemplating Tyr and Quinn kissing to begin with and the fact that it's almost been half a year (almost to the DATE even) is NOT real, time is SO FAKE oh my gooodddd...

Anyway, yeah. Tyr and Quinn kissing in my head is far from new, but I still have yet to do much about it because I can't quite puzzle out how I want it to... work. But its initial origins are in Tyr as Cipher Nine and Quinn still in his role as loyal officer to the Sith Warrior and I think so much of the appeal of these two in my brain is down to their individual, bone-deep dedications to their work. Quinn's whole entire loyalty thing really unravels me for his romance, tbqh.

And what I think gets Tyr so bad for him is his conviction (and, I mean, those incredible blue eyes of his certainly aren't a bad bonus). And also *honks clown nose* I have jokingly told myself this is that ship where Tyr takes one look at Malavai's weird loyalties with the Empire and mutters under his breath "I could fix him."

Tyr can't even fix his own sleep schedule, so like honks clown nose again, but I digress.

Really, this is probably one of those pairings that I can't get out of my system because I think both of them are immensely pretty and I think they should kiss because of it. There doesn't have to be a deeper reason even though stars help them, there certainly could be a lot for them to work through.

Loyalty is the catching point I predict for them. Quinn's dedication is as attractive as it is the one thing that Tyr is almost adamant he can change. Where Quinn sees duty, Tyr sees the trappings that nearly cost him his life and liberty as Cipher Nine, and Tyr has very strong feelings and opinions about how nobody deserves to go through something like that. Ever. Especially in the Empire. Them having a relationship at all relies heavily on Tyr being able to convince Malavai of this and for them to both come to terms about Tyr's less than stellar feelings about the Empire.

Still, Tyr tends to at least respect someone so strong in their convictions, even if he doesn't necessarily agree. I could honestly see this all starting as kind of an accident out of a very passionate discussion about the state of the Empire and then they're making a bit too much eye contact and oh, no, they're a bit up in each other's space and oh. Be a real shame if they kissed. Be a real shame if that was the way they ended this argument.

I have no idea how seriously or jokingly I suggest this.

It could go really standoffish or it could go incredibly, incredibly right. There's some kind of parallel in there to how dedicated Quinn can be to people and how dedicated to ideals Tyr is. Malavai is rather good at structure, so he'd be particularly good at reprimanding Tyr for his work-filled schedule. Tyr seems to have a way of making other workaholics (looking at you, Theron) seem mild in comparison.

Anyway/ultimately/what have you, it might even be good for them that they don't necessarily share the same views on how to handle perceived faults with the Empire. Malavai's loyalty probably errs him to the side of internal reform and that's a good temper for how Tyr's ready to tear the whole thing apart and leave himself standing in the smoking ruins if that's what it takes to finally end this war.

And Malavai's perceptive enough to figure this out and fuss over him, in a way. I kinda toyed around with what this relationship might look like in this wip (no don't look at me I haven't made any progress on it since that post), which also looks at him with both Theron and Tyr. Malavai's no-nonsense attitude is very good at catching his spy bfs in their spy workaholic bullshit, lol.

So, tldr, they could have a very good balance together. Malavai checks his expectations and goals in a realistic fashion that goes far in maintaining the honesty in their relationship to themselves and one another. They are both workaholics though for sure, so they'd... probably be just as likely to spend date night kissing as they are to get distracted talking strategy for an upcoming operation or going over a debrief until their cafs run cold and forgotten on the table kanflsadfs. Tyr's more likely to deploy a kiss as a distraction to coax him off of his work. ;)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

journey, m | ot7

full title: journey to the dick

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.

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

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

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

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

"It had potential!"

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

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

Jimin was being very helpful.

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.

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

Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You remember anyone in this outfit?"

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

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

"Oh, right. Who won?"

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

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

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

"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.

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

"Is this your dick?"

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

You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.

"Is this your dick?"

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

"Lemme check."

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

"Uh..."

You trailed off.

Taehyung blinked.

The bathroom door closed.

Pants unzipped.

"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

-

"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."

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

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

For science.

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

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

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

You glanced at the photo once more.

It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.

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

Hmm...

Hold on.

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

"I have to do this correctly."

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

"In the proper order!"

Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.

"The hell does she mean, proper order?'

-

kim namjoon.

“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”

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

“Pardon?” he replied in English.

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

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

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

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

Fucking.

Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.

(Usually, heh.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean, sure, if you want–”

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

“I’m on a mission.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Splendid!

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

Slightly less splendid.

“Are you choking?”

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

Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”

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

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

He left his round glasses on.

‘Course he did.

Damn you, Namjoon!

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

He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”

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

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

“Oh, fuck!”

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

The three taps applied to him too.

Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.

“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”

Shit, that’s right.

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

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

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

“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned. “Hurry up.”

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

You narrowed your eyes.

Growled.

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

“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to do the moving.”

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

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

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

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

“F-Fuck…”

“Listen.”

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

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

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

So close, so close, so close.

He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.

“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”

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

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

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

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

Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.

-

kim seokjin.

"Gah, fuck!"

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

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

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

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

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

Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.

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

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

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

"That was a special case!"

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

"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A dick. Is it yours?"

Seokjin made a disgusted face.

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

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

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

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

"How could that thing compare to–gah!"

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

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

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

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

"Oh, fuck..."

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

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

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

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

"Ah, yeees..."

"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"

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

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

You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.

"Yes or no?"

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

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

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

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

"Mmmphf!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, yes...!"

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

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

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

You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.

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

You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.

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

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

“B-But…”

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

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

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

You made a confused face at him.

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

“H-Hey…”

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

“S… Seokjin…?”

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

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

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

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

“Hey! I want that in me!”

“What? Gah!”

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

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

“F-Fuck– yah!”

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

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

“I like that shirt!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.

-

min yoongi.

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

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

"Yoongi!"

The bed shifted and hit the wall.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yoongi–"

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

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

"Yoongi – ah, oof!"

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.

"No, I do not..."

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

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

"Memoirs are written."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and Yoongi ignored it.

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

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

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

Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

You smiled.

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

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

“That it?”

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

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.

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

“Pretty dick.”

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

“That’s why it could be yours.”

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

“Stop.”

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

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

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

“Well?” he chuckled.

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

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

“Well, damn.”

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

“Tighter.”

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

“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi…”

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

“You want me?”

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

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Y… Yeah…”

That smirk.

“I know you do.”

You did end up coming back all the time.

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

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

“You wanna ride my dick?”

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

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

-

jung hoseok.

“Hoseokie…”

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

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

Your lips curved into a smile.

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

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

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

It wasn’t like this the first time.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not nice.”

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

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

You leaned in, whispering in his ear.

“Fuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this your dick?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh? You do remember?”

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

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

“No, sorry.”

“Then… can I see it?”

He grinned. “You have to earn it.”

Earning it could mean anything.

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

“H-Hoseok…!”

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

“Hoseok, p-please…”

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

Shallow gasps.

Peaking pleasure.

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

The song ended.

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

The music began again.

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

“Look.”

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

“Don’t choke.”

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

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

You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”

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

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

That seemed ages ago now.

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

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

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

“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”

“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”

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

It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.

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

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

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

-

park jimin.

“I hate you.”

“Come on, Jimin.”

"I was supposed to be first!"

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

"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"

"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"

"No!"

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

"You little–"

"Don't you dare call me little!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, in my car!"

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

"Fuck!"

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

Ah, so not you.

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

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

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

You grinned. "148."

Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit on my face.”

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

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

Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.

He was great at eating pussy too.

“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”

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

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

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

“Fuck, give it to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin was part of the reason you were good.

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

Win-win.

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

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

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

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

“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”

“And you aren’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

kim taehyung.

"You're so fucking stubborn."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have a virgin kink."

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

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

"And a glasses kink."

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

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

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

"Same reason why you got so excited when–"

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

Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.

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

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

His thumb was over number seven.

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

His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.

Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.

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

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

"That I wanna hear you say please?"

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, yeah?”

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

"You only want to think about me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.

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

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

"Mmmm, Taehyung...."

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

“Let’s play a little game.”

His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.

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

“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”

One more.

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

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

One more.

“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”

His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your magic word?”

“Please.”

He grinned at you despaired tone.

“That’s it.”

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

“Work for it.”

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

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

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

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

Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.

“Yes, please.”

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

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”

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

“T… Tae… the picture…”

“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”

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

“Serious?”

“Deadly.”

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

“Alright, let’s see.”

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

You wouldn’t question it if it was true.

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

Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”

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

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

“You like that he spends rumors.”

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

“Ready?”

“Mhm, do it.”

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

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

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

-

jeon jungkook.

“Jungkook?”

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

He froze like that.

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

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

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

Had he been watching porn?

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

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

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

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

REALITY SUCKS.

You pointed to the turned-off monitor.

"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.

Jungkook's ears turned red.

"Yes," he blurted.

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

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

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

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

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

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

You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"

Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.

"I was looking at your pictures."

You blinked rapidly. "What?"

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

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

"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."

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

Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.

You pointed between your bodies.

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

"N-No!"

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

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

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

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

His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.

A pause.

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

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

His eyes went wide.

You smiled widely.

Then he said something unexpected.

"Ow."

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

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

"We should just take it off then."

"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"

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

"Ah, fuck!"

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

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

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

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

"You're not a virgin?"

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

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

"You didn't like it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And what's that?'"

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

"Hot and horny."

Turns out.

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

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

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

"Please..."

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

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

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

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

"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"

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

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

"Jungkook..."

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

"There's this picture..."

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

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

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

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

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hm.

You tilted your head.

One way.

Then the other.

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmm.

“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.

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

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

“What?” He sounded startled.

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

“Still…”

You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.

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

“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.

You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”

He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.

“Oh well.”

You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.

“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”

Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.

That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.

“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.

You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.

“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”

Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.

“You can help, you know.”

Fun night.

His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.

“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”

You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.

You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.

“You always feel so fucking good…”

You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.

-

“Hah…”

You rolled over, sighing loudly.

“Haaaaaaah…”

“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.

You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.

“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.

“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.

“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.

“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”

You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”

“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.

“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.

“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”

“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”

You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.

“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”

You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.

“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.

Your eye twitched.

You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”

You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.

“So what’s the difference?”

“What?” you scowled.

Yoongi shrugged casually.

“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”

“That’s–”

Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.

Silence.

“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.

Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”

W… What?

Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.

Hold on.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”

They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.

As if…

“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.

As if they had expected to see such a photo.

Click.

You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.

“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”

No way.

“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”

One look at those seven faces and…

YUP.

Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”

You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…

“Oh my God…”

“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.

“I am not!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”

You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!

On purpose!

For what?

FOR FUN!

(GG, no re)

They got you good.

Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.

Oh.

Shit.

Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.

You stared into chocolate eyes.

Innocent.

Or…?

Jungkook’s pout disappeared.

His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.

And then, Jeon Jungkook.

“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.

These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!

You were positively fuming.

Silence.

An owl hooted outside the window.

“YOU PUNKS!”

You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.

-

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[kurosukii]

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your best friend has been dying to know the guy you’ve been fooling around with since your twenty-first birthday; you wish you could tell her, but the mystery man is no other than her father.

genre: smut, age gap, best friend’s dad au

warnings: 18+. DILF KUROO. dubcon, manipulation, slight somnophilia, spanking, pussyjob, alcohol consumption, dumbification, hair pulling, virginity loss (...social construct), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, size kink, corruption kink, daddy kink, daddy issues, dirty talk, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, nipple play, creampie, cumplay, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, choking, spitting, mating press, clit spanks, begging, fingering, slight exhibitionism, finger sucking, tie kink(?? he makes you wear his tie so...)

word count: 5.2k

author’s note: for @sugawara-sweetheart’s decadence collab! thank you so much for letting me join! shoutout to @stopisa for that ✨lovely✨ dilf convo. (dilf kuroo AAAAAAAAAAAAAA) (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

º thank you @meiansmistress and @ssrated1volleyballplayer for editing and beta reading <33

[12:24 PM]

“come on! you have to tell me who he is!”

you grip the handle of your spoon harder than normal, hoping your best friend doesn’t see your reaction.

you open your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off with a comment that makes shame and embarrassment burn through your body.

“you guys were really loud last night! well, you were. i didn’t hear so much as a peep from your man—well aside from the occasional murmurs, which i’m pretty sure was dirty talk…” she trails off, looking lost in thought.

you squirm and wince at the wet pool between your legs. the wet pool being cum that he told you to keep warm just before he left.

she sees your discomfort and laughs at your predicament, clearly thinking it was the aftermath of a hard night of fucking—it was, but she didn’t need to know about the sticky cum that was still inside your pussy.

“he clearly fucked your brains out! at least one of us is getting dick!” she exclaims, her lips forming into a pout as she takes her finished bowl of ramen to the sink and rinses it with water.

yeah, you are getting dick—not just anyone’s dick, however, because it’s her father’s.

your stomach churns at the thought, not from disgust, but from guilt and shame. you are way past getting disgusted with what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.

not when her father never fails to make you cum at least three times in one night, not when he calls you his good girl and cockslut, and certainly not when you called him over last night because you were so pent up and you needed your daddy’s cock.

last night…

“you’re such a cockslut,” kuroo growled, his balls slapping against your ass as he delivered a hard thrust that had you creaming and moaning all over his cock. you bunched the sheets in your hands, wincing with slight discomfort when he folded your body in half while he pounded relentlessly inside you.

“you should see how dumb you look with your eyes all crossed and teary while your tits are bouncing everywhere.”

you squealed when he roughly flipped you on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips as he entered you once more. he lifted one hand and slapped your ass in sync with his thrusts.

“so drunk on my cock now, huh? can’t live without it, hm?” kuroo taunted you, one hand squeezing your hip while the other spanked your ass until it was burning with pain. you moaned words incoherently, tongue lolling out as drool seeped from the corners of your mouth.

“daddy! more, please!” you moaned loudly, toes curling from the pleasure.

“you’re brave for calling me over, knowing that only a thin wall is separating you from my daughter’s room,” he hissed, pounding your pussy from behind.

“but i guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore as long as i fill this dirty pussy with my. hot. cum—fuck!” he ended each word with a hard thrust, cursing when your tight cunt clamped down on him.

“faster, daddy! your cock’s filling up my pussy so well—oh my god!” you screamed, partly aware that you shouldn’t scream his name, for fear that your debauchery with your best friend’s father would be revealed too soon.

kuroo indulged you, teeth bared as he pushed your back into a deeper arch, making his cock reach places he hadn’t before. you winced when his large cock teased the entrance of your cervix. it was always a trip taking him—no matter how many times he fucked you, his cock always stretched your pussy wide open.

“w-wait, it h-hurts daddy!” you whined, moving forward to escape the brutal thrusts of his hips so you could adjust your position. he growled in disapproval, tightening his grip on your hips as he roughly pulled you back on his dick.

“take my cock. i know you can do it, whore.” he hissed, moving your body back and forth on his cock like you were a fuckdoll. you moaned from both pain and pleasure as kuroo guided your hips, fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

you cried out when kuroo tugged your hair from its roots, pulling your body upright until your back met his sweaty chest. “yeah that’s a good fucking pussy. come on slut, squeeze daddy’s cock,” he whispered in your ear, teeth biting your earlobe.

“d-daddy i can’t—i’m going to cum!” you squealed, voice cracking as your body started shaking from your fast approaching orgasm.

“i’m going to cum too, baby—and don’t you fucking dare waste my cum,” he growled, wrapping his arms around your body.

you fell forward on your shaking arms, sheets bunched tightly in your fingers as moans and whimpers freely fell from your lips.

“i want it to stay inside your dirty cunt until tomorrow,” he ordered you, reaching for your arms and holding your wrists in one hand, the other slapping your already swollen ass.

you cried out when your face was smothered by the sheets, drool staining the pillow as the headboard continuously thumped against the wall. your body shook with his thrusts, breasts swaying with the movement.

“i want you to look my daughter in the eye and have a normal conversation with her—just like you always do—while you’re thinking about how slutty you are with her father’s cum inside your pussy.”

that was last night. a couple hours ago, if you were to be specific, since kuroo fucked you until you passed out on your bed. you only woke up when your best friend practically broke the door down—bed empty of him, thank god—saying that she made lunch. she looked pretty disheveled herself and she blamed it on your headboard hitting the wall all throughout the night.

you buried your face into the pillow to cover your guilty expression, groaning at the movement because your body was aching all over. she laughed and left you to your own devices, still recovering from him.

he has a crazy appetite for a man his age, to be honest. he may be an older man but he fucks like a teenage boy who recently discovered sex and became hypnotized by the pleasure of it. you lost count of how many times your best friend—his daughter—almost caught you and him fucking around in the apartment, their house, and even his car.

it wasn’t always like this though. there was a time when you only saw him as a fatherly figure and not someone who regularly uses you as a cocksleeve.

maybe it was the way he looked so good with a five-o-clock shadow, or how even with salt and pepper hair, he still acted youthfully. perhaps it was his signature cocky grin that lured your younger and more impressionable self towards him.

in truth, it was your daddy issues that led you to him.

you met your best friend the summer after high school. you bonded quickly over your common interests and quickly learned that it was just her and her dad. she confided in you and told you how lonely he was and she hoped that he would meet a nice and loving woman to take care of him. you comforted her and reassured her that he would meet that woman. if you only knew.

you couldn’t help but admit to yourself how envious you were of her and her father’s relationship, seeing as the one with your own was non-existent. you couldn’t wait to meet him, hoping that he would treat you as his second daughter since your best friend was basically your sister.

she failed to tell you—because why would she?—that her father is an attractive and charming specimen of a man his age. his eyes would crinkle at the sides when he laughed and his feline eyes would always look at you with warmth and tenderness.

you sigh as you put your chin on your fist, the sounds of dishwashing and humming filling your ears as you play the events that eventually led to your risky love affair with her dad.

you really feel ashamed, but it wasn’t your fault that her dad is so good to you. from the moment you met him, he made you feel so loved and appreciated. it was obviously innocent and familial at first, until it turned to something darker, more carnal.

his glances gradually became lingering and he started giving you sly winks that left you burning with desire. you tried so hard to fight it too, but you were too weak against his sweet talk and honey voice.

it was a year or two later that he finally made a move on you.

you figured that with a job that caused him to be in constant public eye, he would avoid fooling around with girls that were decades younger than him, but even with the heavy implications of a scandal, it still didn’t stop him from devouring you.

it all started one night when he invited you guys over, claiming that he missed the both of you. your best friend told you to go first because she was going to be out for her tutoring session. you internally shivered at the thought of being alone with him, not knowing what was going to happen once you were confined in a small space.

the sexual tension was so thick when you arrived and next thing you knew, you had your back on the dining table, legs spread in the air, with his mouth sucking and slurping on your pussy. you came with a scream of his name, cumming so hard for the first time in your life that your body ended up convulsing.

he had laughed at how blissed out you looked. “you taste even better than what i imagined, baby. thanks for the meal,” he purred, winking at you and leaving you to process what happened, hand wiping off the juices from his face as he went back to cooking dinner.

his daughter finally showed up and your face burned the entire time, unable to look her in the eye because not only did her father make you cum minutes prior, but he also was a tease and had his fingers inside your panties while talking to her, fingers slowly tracing circles on your clit.

the topic of conversation was your living situation. he was never happy about how the two of you wanted to live alone together because he insisted that it was better if you guys lived with him. at first you thought it was him being overprotective, but you came to understand it was because he wanted easy access to you.

he ended up fucking your throat that night out of sheer frustration, punishing you for being a bad girl and wanting to be away from your daddy.

you partly hoped it was a one time thing, but you were proven wrong when you had a movie night and your best friend dozed off on the long couch housing the three of you.

kuroo was under your blanket and between your legs in an instant. your shorts hung off of one ankle while he pushed your panties to the side.

“daddy! we shouldn’t be doing this—fuck!” you moaned as his lips sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue lapping up your slick.

“guess you just have to be quiet then, kitten,” he teased you. you arched your back and bit your lip to muffle your scream when he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt while his lips played with your clit.

you had no idea how your best friend didn’t wake up to the sounds of your muffled moans and whimpers, but that thought went away when you started riding her father’s face and cumming all over his mouth.

you became needier after that, eventually losing the hesitancy of being pleasured by him. instead, you anticipated the times when he would make you cum.

the deal was sealed on the night of your twenty-first birthday.

night of your birthday…

“hey girl, the postman came and said this was for you!” your friend slurred, clearly having had too much to drink for just a small and intimate celebration for your twenty-first.

you’d been buzzing the whole day, both from the alcohol and anticipation of what was going to happen later. you woke up to numerous happy birthday texts until you came across the one you’ve been so excited to see. your cunt gushed when you saw your daddy’s text, letting out a little moan at what he said.

happy twenty-first, kitten. you better be wearing my gift when i come over because i’m going to fuck your little pussy tonight.

you sucked in a breath as your face flushed. you held the smooth black nondescript box that was elegantly wrapped with a crimson satin ribbon. you had a pretty solid guess of what was inside and your best friend had as well, because she wiggled her eyebrows and teased you. you sighed, like father, like daughter.

how you were still able to look her in the eye after everything you’ve done and what you’re going to do with her dad is beyond you. his mouth, tongue, fingers—soon to be his cock—truly hypnotized and consumed your conscience and only left neediness in its wake.

you ducked your head to hide the embarrassment on your face while the rest of your friends that came over jeered and whistled as you walked towards your room to leave the box on your bed for safekeeping.

you left it sitting in the center of the bed and went back to the living room to enjoy, skin tingling the whole time in anticipation for your daddy...

you closed the door after saying goodbye to the last group of people and turned to your best friend. “thank you for the lovely little get together,” you thanked her shyly.

“you’re welcome, darling, but i’m sure the main event is just about to happen. tone it down a little, yeah?” she smirked at you, eyes glinting with mischief as she giggled on the way to her room.

you sighed, the guilt that was momentarily forgotten reared its head once more when you were finally alone in your room. it went away again when you studied the gift kuroo gave, nimble fingers leaving light touches on the box settled on your lap as you untied the ribbon.

you rummaged through the white crepe paper until you saw pieces of red lace that were as red as the ribbon that tied the box. he always loved the color, so it wasn’t a surprise that the lingerie he gifted you was of the same shade. your fingers shook when you took them out in front of you. these can barely cover anything, you gulped.

you caught a tinge of gold in the corner of your eye and saw that there was a white card peeking out amongst the paper. the card was lined with gold embellishments and there was a short message printed in red.

kitten, wear these for me. - k.t.

and who are you to not follow daddy’s orders?

you placed the garments at your side and set the box on the floor. you began to undress, removing your cotton bra and panties which you threw on the floor, somehow landing inside the open box.

your naked body was exposed to the cool air and you shivered, head buzzing and eyes slightly drooping from the alcohol you consumed. you took the lace with delicate fingers and gasped upon inspection of the panties.

you were taken aback by the design because not only did it lack enough cloth to cover your entire lower region, but they were crotchless. your mouth dried at the obscenity, hazy mind playing images of kuroo rutting into you without having to remove anything.

that was most likely his intention after all. you slowly stood up from the bed and softly moaned at the slickness between your thighs, pussy clearly excited and aching for his dick. you slipped your legs through them and grabbed the matching bra. you moaned when you clipped it on, nipples hardening when the lacy pattern rubbed against them.

you might as well be wearing nothing with the way you barely felt the fabric against your sensitive skin. you yawned as you laid on your back, the numerous glasses of wine you drank finally caught up with you.

you tried to fight it, you really did. but you were fighting a losing battle with your eyes and besides, you were only going to close them for a bit. you’d wake up before your daddy comes over, right?

you ended up dozing off. you woke up with a moan, alcohol already flushed out of your body. you slightly squirmed as you felt something wet on your tits and a moving pressure in your pussy. you slowly opened your eyes and found a large body looming over you.

“do you know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you?” kuroo asked, lips pulling away from your clothed nipple with a pop when he realized that you were finally awake.

“three fucking years. yet you had the audacity to be asleep when i arrived? i’m going to wreck your slutty pussy, whore,” he growled as he scissored his long fingers inside your pussy faster. you cried out in pleasure, hands reaching for his wrist as you tried to slow his movements.

“d-daddy, i’m sorry!” you cried as you arched your back. he just grunted and removed his wet fingers from your cunt. you whimpered at the loss because his fingers always felt so good when they moved inside of you. he stared you down instead, large hands loosening his red tie—you noticed that it matched the lingerie you were wearing—and promptly removed it.

he bit his lip as he reached down and made you wear it instead, cock twitching in his pants as he reveled at the sight of you wearing his gift, and in his favorite color no less. he unbuttoned his white dress shirt, muscles rippling from the movement.

even though he didn’t play volleyball all that much anymore, he still maintained his toned body. if it weren’t for his salt and pepper hair, you wouldn’t think he was decades older than you. not that it mattered, anyway.

“you look so sexy in red, kitten,” he whispered, the sound of his belt unbuckling mixing with your heavy breathing. you gulped when you saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, eyes widening at the sheer size of him. he stepped out of his pants and smirked when he saw your reaction.

“fuck, your pussy is so pretty. can’t believe i waited this long to fuck it,” he hissed as he spread your legs, your crotchless panties baring your pussy to his eyes, making them twitch under his scrutiny.

he groaned as he rubbed his hard cock on your slit between your folds. you moaned at the stimulation, thankful that he didn’t thrust inside immediately because that would’ve been more painful than pleasurable.

“i was e-eighteen when we first met, y-you could’ve fucked me—oh that feels good—any t-time you wanted to, why didn’t you?” you stuttered as you shivered from the pleasure his slick cock was giving you.

you planted your feet flat on the bed as you took hold of his cock and humped it with fervor, moaning at the slick sounds it made with your lower lips.

kuroo hissed at the increase in stimulation, warm hands grabbing the back of your thighs and folding your legs toward your chest as he thrusted faster between your folds. you moaned louder as you let go of his throbbing cock to bunch the sheets in your fingers.

“you know what they say, good things come to those who wait,” he grunted, hips thrusting faster, making your pussy wetter and slicker.

“besides, you were still a shy and innocent girl back then—until i corrupted you, obviously,” he teased you as he moved one hand to your mouth, inserting his fingers between your lips. you moaned as you sucked, slightly tasting yourself on his fingers.

“i don’t think you could’ve handled this big...fat...cock,” he grunted as he clenched his jaw from the pleasure.

“but now? now you’re my little whore who’s about to know what it feels like to get fucked by a man,” he growled, separating himself from your body. you whimpered, arms reaching out for him but he held your wrists in one hand and placed them above your head.

“you’re already dumb when i fuck you with my mouth and fingers...they’re nothing compared to my dick,” he said frankly, fingertips lightly teasing your puffy clit, aching from the lack of release from the continuous stimulation of his cock. he let go of your wrists and moved his hand to your thigh, fingers circling your skin.

“i-i don’t think your cock will f-fit daddy,” you said in a small voice, staring at his twitching cock.

“nonsense baby, i trained you to deepthroat me, remember?” he reminded you, memories of all the times you sucked his cock filling both your minds.

“i’m going to train this pussy as well. you’ll be begging me to never leave your cunt after i’m done with you,” he declared, positioning himself between your legs again.

“now hump my cock again, kitten. faster this time,” he ordered you, fitting his cock between your lower lips once more.

“yeah just like that—fuck,” he groaned when you ground your clit with more force on his shaft. you cried out at the movement, pussy gushing out more of your juices.

“you like that, hm? like how you’re making my cock wet with your slick?” he taunted you, fingers squeezing the skin of your thigh as he rutted his hips faster.

“can’t wait for me to—shit—bottom out in that tight cunt?” he growled, basking in the heat emanating from your pussy.

you moaned loudly, hips rolling as the knot in your lower stomach threatened to burst. your breasts were freely swaying with each movement your hips made. you threw your head back as your mouth fell open, uncaring of the volume of your cries and whimpers.

“i’m cumming, daddy!” you screamed, pussy clenching around nothing as you drenched your daddy’s cock with your cum. kuroo followed suit, groaning loudly when he released his cum all over your stomach, staining the front of your barely-there panties.

“such a dumb cockslut, you came by just humping my cock?” he teased you. your face warmed in embarrassment, hiding your face in the pillows. kuroo chuckled, honey eyes glinting in mischief. well, he came by just humping your pussy, so he was one to talk.

he spread your lower lips, puffy clit exposed to the air. you shivered at the chill but quickly yelped when he spanked your clit a few times.

“d-daddy!” you exclaimed but he just laughed at you. “just wanted to slap your clit, baby,” he chuckled, hand slapping it once more.

you tried to squirm away from his spanks but he held you in place. he held his throbbing cock with one hand and guided it back to your clenching hole. he rubbed the tip against your sensitive clit before inserting his cock in your pussy.

“t-too big daddy!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as his cockhead went past your tight muscle.

“shh baby, i know you can do it. you can take my cock, yeah that’s a good girl,” he cooed, palm flat against your stomach with his thumb rubbing the skin. you sucked in a breath as he slowly slipped his cock inside your virgin pussy inch by inch.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good with my fat cock that you won’t even care if my daughter catches us,” he growled when he bottomed out. you whimpered at the force of his sudden thrust and the implication of what he said. he only let you adjust to his large cock for a few moments before he started thrusting lazily.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted you as his thrusts increased in speed and strength. you moaned louder, body shaking with the thrusting of his hips.

“n-no s-stop! she’s going to hear you!” you begged, voice cracking when he folded your body in half. he began pounding ruthlessly into your pussy, the slick sounds of skin meeting skin filling the air and making you lightheaded from the pleasure.

“so? i dare you to scream my name, slut. watch her bust that door down,” he mocked you, hands pushing your knees further up your chest. you whimpered at the stretch, the sounds of the headboard thumping against the shared wall only served to make you clench around your daddy’s cock.

“fuck—how do you think her face would look when she sees you taking my cock like a good little bitch?” he growled when he felt you squeeze his cock. he grunted as he thrusted faster, balls slapping against your ass.

“yeah just like that, you want me to cum inside you? fill this slutty pussy to the brim? fuck my cum so deep into your pussy that you’ll get pregnant?” kuroo groaned, throwing his head back as he felt his abdomen tighten, the signal that his orgasm was fast approaching.

you held your bouncing tits in your hands, his silk tie only adding to your pleasure as it rubbed against your sensitive skin. “n-no please!” you pleaded, tears falling from your eyes.

“you’re on the pill, aren’t you?” he asked, jaw clenching because he was stopping himself from cumming immediately. he wanted to spill all of his load in one go, after all.

“y-yes daddy b-but—!” you squealed, stinging pain blooming in your chest when kuroo pinched your nipple.

“then take my fucking cum, whore,” he demanded, cock throbbing because he was so ready to spill all of his hot cum.

“n-no daddy! please don’t cum inside me!” you screamed, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tongue lolling out as his cock hit your g-spot.

“shut up and take it,” he growled, hands squeezing your waist as his thrusts grew erratic.

he groaned loudly when he saw your fucked out face, thrusting so deep that his cock teased the entrance of your cervix. his hot cum spurting out of his cock as he filled your pussy.

“daddy you’re cumming so much—oh my god!” you screamed as you came with him, legs shaking from the intense fucking.

“your cum’s filling up my pussy, fuck and it feels so hot too!” you cried out, throat raw from the sounds that came out of your mouth ever since he came inside your room.

kuroo removed his hands from your waist—one hand snaking around your neck, applying slight pressure to the sides as he rode your pussy to prolong his orgasm.

his other hand moved to straighten your leg, rubbing your outer thigh while he cooed at you. “you like my cum, baby?” he asked softly, hips slowly rocking back and forth. you whimpered, your overstimulated pussy aching from his never-ending thrusts.

his movements caused his cum to overflow and seep out the sides of his cock. the mixed fluids fell out of your pussy, sliding down your ass and drenching the sheets beneath you.

“don’t be shy, baby. you can tell daddy if you like his cum,” he encouraged you, leaning down to kiss you languidly on the lips.

“i-i love your cum daddy,” you tell him in between kisses.

“that’s my good girl. happy birthday, my sweet kitten.”

you open your eyes when your best friend throws the damp towel to your face. “quit daydreaming about him! you were moaning ‘daddy! daddy!’ like he was actually fucking you!” she yells while crossing her arms across her chest.

you duck your head in shame. great, now i’m even messier and wetter down there, you grumble. you wince when you hear the squelching sound—dear god i hope she didn’t hear it—as you shift to face her properly while she walks over to you.

“so! tell me more about him, what’s his name?” she asks animatedly, chin resting on her fists as she sits beside you on the island. you swallow thickly, a lump suddenly weighing down in your throat. you inhale a deep breath before coming up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“he’s a shy and private guy...i’m not telling you his name yet because...i really want you to meet him in person, you know...?” you already know him—you’re related to him! you scream in your head.

your palms feel sweaty as your nerves are on the verge of frying themselves. you bite your lip while you rub your thighs together, wincing immediately as you feel her dad’s cum drench your panties and shorts further.

“well, judging by your reaction right now and the sounds last night, he’s not really the shy type when it comes to bedroom activities,” your best friend pouts at your secrecy and then smirks, eyebrows wiggling.

your face burns in embarrassment and guilt, if only she knew she was talking about her dad.

“anyway, i’m going to the library right now, i’m so done with this paper,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“take care and have fun laz—dad! what’s up? what brings you here?” she squeals in delight when she sees him and jumps into her father’s arms while he kisses the top of her head.

your pussy quivers at the sight of your daddy, and when his eyes land on you, he winks deviously then places his daughter back on the floor.

“can’t i visit my favorite girls on my day off?” he says to her while looking at you. your best friend is clearly oblivious to the desire that was swimming in her father’s sharp eyes.

“well, i’m going to the library to finish my paper. you guys can hang out in the meantime, but don’t watch our show without me!” she says as she walks out the door and ends her sentence with a click.

kuroo locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting like a predator. he picks your body up and sits on the chair, settling you on his lap and wrapping his long arms around your middle. his large hand cups your cheek and he kisses you, earning a moan from your mouth when his tongue massages yours.

you kiss for a while and then he pulls away from your lips. he grabs your chin firmly, fingers squeezing your cheek open as he spits inside your mouth. you moan while swallowing his spit, hands reaching for his stubbled face before kissing each other sloppily once more.

“you keeping my cum warm for me, kitten?” he asks, lips separating from yours to leave kisses and nips on your jaw. you moan and squirm on his lap as his other hand sneaks inside the waistband of your shorts and inserts two thick fingers in your messy and dripping cunt.

“such a good girl for daddy. you kept his promise,” he growls lowly, biting the skin of your neck and leaving a mark which he soothes with his warm tongue.

“i think my kitten deserves a reward, hm? would you like that?” he asks you, fingers curling inside your tight walls.

“y-yes daddy!” you whimper, grinding your hips on his lap. he smirks and removes his fingers from your cunt and stands up from the chair. you whine at the loss of stimulation and he shushes you with his finger—the one he had inside of you seconds ago.

“let’s go to your room, shall we? daddy missed his favorite girl.”

[1:14 PM]

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look of who’s coming over to say hello!”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch.  If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away.  Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.  

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p.  You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

[wormstacheangel]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

wc: 1.3k tags: hunter!cas, human!cas, destiel au, case fic, a little grave digging and flirting never hurt anybody

This. This was the worst part of the job; Dean concludes as he shovels away another patch of dirt. He cringes when he realizes that actually the people dying are the worst part but digging up a grave is a close second.

“I am...never...playing that...stupid...fucking game. Again!”

He hated rock, paper, scissors anyways. Couldn’t they play darts or cards to settle bets? Why do they have to play such a childish game? And why does he always fucking lose?

Dean throws the dirt over his shoulder with ache arms. Sam suggested someone had to stay with the pretty girl and protect her from the ghost of some old-timey creep. So, now Sam is somewhere comforting the college cheerleader while Dean is struggling to climb out of the hole. He just needed a second—a minute.

Fuck, he needed a nap.

He was almost out when he saw someone running towards him.

“Shit!” Dean lost his footing and fell onto his back. Landing back into the grave with a loud groan.

He heard a loud chuckle before he opened his eyes and saw, “Wow. Aren’t you pretty?”

Dean saw the man roll his eyes, but all Dean could think about was how angelic the man looked with the glow of the moon behind him.

“Did I just die and gone to heaven?”

“If heaven is finishing this dig, then yes.” Dean barely heard his words cause he was putty under the voice. The deep fucking voice. “You’re Dean, right?”

Pretty boy knows my name! “Yeah.” Smooth. “Yeah, am I that famous already?”

“Your brother sent me over to check on you.” Pretty boy helped Dean out of the grave, holding his hand out and helping Dean regain his balance by holding a hand to his waist. “Says you were taking too long.”

Was this dude teasing him, or was he dead serious?

“Yeah, well, digging up a dead body isn’t as easy anymore.”

“I don’t think it was ever easy.”

Dean blinked at him, still unable to understand if the dude just had a dry humor or if he was fucking serious.

“Who the fuck even are you?” Dean finally asked, handing the guy the extra shovel before he could even answer.

He watched pretty boy take the shovel and jump into the hole with ease. Already digging when he answers in a deep groan. “I’m Castiel.”

It took a second for Dean to stop hearing the name bouncing off the walls in his brain. “Castiel?”

Cas gave him a slight nod, his lips in a tight line as he started to shovel off the dirt quickly. Dean sat down at the edge of the grave and watched him, enjoying the way his arms and back muscles stretch his shirt, but also in suspicion.

“And what the fuck are you doing here, Cas?”

“I was on my way to this hunt, actually.”

“So you’re a hunter.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

Yeah. Well. “Well, we did all the work already, so you can’t take the credit.”

“I don’t need credit. I just want to help.” Cas was already leaving a pretty good dent. “I was supposed to be here sooner, but my car broke down. Left it on the side of the road, hidden by some trees--can’t really call a mechanic when I have an arsenal in the back.”

Dean jumped in and grabbed his own shovel to help.

“Well, it must be your lucky day, Cas.” Cas looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together. “You are looking at one of thee best mechanics on this side of the country.”

“What about the other side?”

“I’m not so good over there.”

They both cracked a smile. So maybe Cas does have a dry sense of humor. And Dean...well, shit, Dean thinks he likes it.

“After we’re done here, maybe I can give you a ride back to your car? See what I can do.”

Cas was staring at him, almost as if he could see right through him, and Dean wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure as fuck can get addicted to being seen.

“I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. Maybe that would make us even.” Dean says as his shovel hits something old. He slams the shovel down harder and cracks the wooden box. “Jackpot!”

Cas climbed out of the grave with ease and quickly turned around to help Dean out again. He wanted to show that he could get out all by himself, too, but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity to hold the damn dude’s big rough hands.

Shit. It’s been a while for him.

“Dean?” Dean noticed his gaze had fallen to the other man’s lips. It was formed into a small smile. “The salt?”

He’s a professional! He should not be letting this pretty boy interfere with the job. Since when has this been a rule? Now. He is starting now.

Dean picked up the salt, and before he could pour it out into the grave, he felt a familiar push of something hard knocking him back. He landed hard against a gravestone, his back getting the worst of it, while he heard his name being called out but everything was a little fuzzy. The figure before him, dressed in an old prison uniform, grinned down at him before he took hold of Dean’s neck. It was choking him.

“Dean!”

His vision faded as he tried to fight the ghost, but his legs just went through him. But eventually, he fell onto his knees, sucking in the air before a coughing fit started.

He felt strong arms around his shoulders, protecting him. “Come on, Dean. We gotta burn the remains.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t just thrown across the graveyard like a damn rag doll.

Dean followed Cas’s lead without complaint, noticing now that the dude had a shotgun in hand. When they reached the grave again, there stood the ghost with the most fucked up grin that made the Joker’s scars look good. It gave Dean the chills, and he started to feel his body freeze up.

“Cas.” Dean tugged at the other guy’s sleeve. His hands felt so weak, and when he looked down at himself, he noticed they were starting to become purple. “Fuck.”

This is how all his victims were found. Shit, that also meant the damn ghost found him pretty enough to kill.

Cas noticed at the same time and gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze as he pulled it off of him. He gave Dean an apologetic smile before turning towards the ghost. “If you want him. Take him.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Dean complained as he watched the ghost’s eyes widen as he looked Dean up and down. “If that dirty hand touches me, Cas. You’re dead.”

“Then I suggest you keep him away from you while I burn this bitch.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. Even while being used as fucking bait, he could find time to find Cas as cute and funny.

Dean did as he was told, ignoring the way his lungs burned with every gasping breath as he tried to fucking run from the ghost. Like the first idiot who dies in a horror movie.

“You could have given me the gun!”

“Get your own!”

“Ass!”

Dean swore he heard laughter.

And just when he was cornered, with nasty fucking claws trying to bury themselves into his chest, the ghost backs away in screams. Burning up from the inside first and slowly spreading. Then, finally, the screams and remains become lost to the wind.

Dean fell back against a grave, his chest still ached along with everything in his body, when he saw Cas run towards him. He slid into his knees and carefully cradled Dean’s head between his hands, looking at him again. Looking at him like he knew him. Cared about him.

“Dean? Dean, you okay?”

Dean wanted to shove those hands away. He wouldn’t have let anyone take care of him like this, but right now, he didn’t care.

“You owe me, Cas. That grimy nasty shit touched me.”

Cas sighed in relief, knowing Dean was fine. Or at least, he was alive.

“I guess I owe you.” Cas helped Dean up. “Maybe after you fix my car?”

“Deal. But buy me breakfast first?”

“Deal.”

[thegremlincrowsnest]

Denki x Reader NSFW

This is my addition to the LoveIsland AU! by doinmybesthere

I'm saying I'm sorry now because I was very...under the influence so to speak when writing this.

All characters are 18+, All reader inserts are poc, ftm and use he/him/they/them pronouns. All reader inserts are plus size

CW: Pussy eating, fingering, creampies, multiple orgasms, no protection used.

Fragment 31V, Sappho

Silence breaks my tongue and subtle fire streams beneath my skin, I can’t see with my eyes, or hear through buzzing ears.

Sweat runs down, a shiver shakes Me deep — I feel as pale as grass: As close to death as that, and green, Is how I seem.

That was the poem you had memorized since you decided to join this stupid island show. Ok, you were lying a bit; it wasn’t all stupid, you did want to go in the first place. But since you were here, you suddenly wanted to leave. The constant cameras and eyes on you did grow on you, but at the same time, you despised them. The constant eyes on your curves and plush thighs, the quiet mumbles of how you looked like a god did make you smile but you were stand-offish. Not really shy, but definitely not in any immediate rush.

As you sat next to the pool, tanning with a copy of Sappho in your hand, your sun was quickly blocked from you. Looking up you were met with a brilliant smile and golden eyes. “Hey, there beautiful~” the ray of sunshine spoke. You felt your cheeks burn under his gaze, aware of how his eyes quickly took in your stretched out form.

“H-hey there,” you responded, brain fuzzing out quickly as you sat up to properly speak. Hyper aware of the eyes and cameras on you, you pulled your braids to the side, exposing your neck and chest just a little bit more. He introduced himself as Denki and said that he’s been having an eye on you for some time.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you on the first day. You’re just so beautiful,” he remarked as he licked his lips.

You both talked for some time, changing topics from shared likes to dislikes and passions you both have.

“I saw you were reading poetry and at first I was going to try and write something for you, to try and impress you,” he commented with a chuckle, blushing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, what happened to it?” You asked with a cocked eyebrow.

He was silent for a moment before responding, “I realized I suck at poetry…” You didn’t intend to laugh as loud as you did, but you couldn’t help it. He protested saying he was trying his best. “I decided instead I wanted to take you back to my room so I can read to you some of my favorite poems,” his voice was low and he leaned in close enough where you could smell him. Whiffs of sharp citrus and warm spices filled your nose, it made you want to lean in more, becoming enveloped in its intoxicating allure. He stared down at you with a very noticeable hunger in his eyes. So inviting and striking.

Denki couldn’t help, but lick his lips again, watching as a drop of sweat travels down from your neck to the valley of your breast. Your brown skin looked delicious in the warm summer sun, soft and subtle, perfect for marking. You make eye contact and silently agree. Quickly you both sneak away to his room, as soon as the door clicks shut, you’re pushed against it. Denki kisses you softly before deepening it as he lets his hands roam your plush body. You do the same, running your fingers across ropes of tightly wound muscle, squealing softly as you feel his hands grip your love handles.

“You’re absolutely stunning. I swear I’m not a perv, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about this body of yours.”

He kisses your neck, sucking gently as he tastes your skin. You whimper softly feeling his soft lips leave a trail of small marks, taking special interest in your stretch marks. He tugs your panties down in a frenzy, whining like a puppy as he smells your arousal. It's thick and sweet as it mixes with your sweat, he can’t help himself as he licks up the insides of your thighs. Placing your legs on his shoulder he lifts you up, placing you down on the bed so he could lift your hips higher. Resuming his ministrations he spreads your lips, slowly licking your slit, nuzzling his nose into you.

You try to hold back moans, whimpering and biting your knuckle as you feel his tongue thrust inside of you. His arms lock around your thighs, letting you squeeze his head with them, refusing to let up. He squeezes the rolls of your stomach and sides, sitting up slightly as he looks down at you. “Breathtaking,” he moans as he pulls his cock out.

He rubs your clit gently, gathering enough essence to slide two fingers into you. Jerking his cock in tangent with how he fingers you, spreading his fingers ever so slightly, wanting you to fall apart. You both watch each other, how you both whimper and whine at the softest of touches or praise. He finds your sweet spot and presses against it as he jerks he stops touching his cock, letting it throb as he fingers you faster, cupping your face with his other hand. “Let go for me baby, wanna see that face again,” he groans, rubbing his thumb against your clit, three fingers thrusting wildly into you. You can barely think straight before you throw your head back. Moaning loudly and gripping the sheets your body shivers, squirting across his arm and lower stomach.

You shiver as your orgasm begins to subside, as you sat up you were about to apologize when you’re being pushed back. Denki kisses you deeply, swallowing your soft moans and cries as he slowly pushed his cock into your sloppy pussy. Shivering he pulls back, panting softly as he begins a steady rhythm

Plap Plap Plap

“So good, you’re so good, fuck darlin.’”

Plap Plap Plap

“Fuck you’re so tight around me baby."

You can’t tell if the whining you hear is from you or him. He has your knees on his shoulders as he pounds into you, feeling his balls slap against your ass. You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you feel his thick cock hit the deepest parts of your body. Suddenly the realization that a camera could catch you both makes your blood freeze. As if he can sense your anxiety he pulls your face to him. “Keep lookin at me sweet cheeks. Look me in the eye as I fill this cute pussy.”

You fight to keep your eyes open as he pulls you down into his thrusts, borderline screaming as you feel his cock hit your womb entrance. Then as he reaches down to rub your clit, your body freezes as you squirt on his cock. His pace doesn’t falter as he watches you dissolve in front of him, body clinging to him like a safety line. He picks you up, bouncing you on his lap as he holds your face to his. “Good boy, take my cum, take my cock, fucking be a good little cock slut and take it all.”

Plap Plap Plap

He holds you tightly, biting into your shoulder as he cums deep inside of you. Growling, his nails dig into your thighs as you grind against each other, prolonging your orgasms. You collapse onto the bed, your head laying on top of his chest. Suddenly, you feel confident in this competition.

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

I’ve been a hermit ever since covid dropped lol. Yes, you’re doing social distancing right. Imagine going outside? Ptff, what a weird concept. But I’m happy you’ve stuck around for so long despite the constant brainworms I have. Oho?? More crumbs 👀 Lemme just crack my knuckles real quick. I’m throwing a reader in just so I have an excuse to tag everyone haha. These are a lot more scuffy compared to my usual HCs but let me brainrot for a sec. 

---

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Roomate HCs [V1]

Genshin: Mythos AU - Cat Xiao

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​​ @diaxfeliz​​ @wintergreen-aix​​ @aethwie​​ @thegayrubberducky​​ @lovelykittycatmeow​​​ @yuunoagivesmelife​​ @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​​ @minakohasmanyhusbandos​​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​​  @qimiie @onowie​​ @hanniejji​​​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @legionqueensav​​​ @castinluckgamer​​​

---

Zhongli

Your first impressions of Zhongli was that he was an egotistical and selfish brat. To be fair, you might have adopted some of those qualities yourself but you were both children at the time. Your sister, Guizhong, was tasked to take care of Zhongli in place of his parents which lead to your first meeting with the infamous Imperial Prince. At first, you were excited to finally meet someone who was the same age as you and Guizhong was always so kind. But when he turned to face you two, he just asked if Guizhong was supposed to be his concubine. You weren’t sure whether to gag or throw your shoe at him but Guizhong quickly intercepted before you could do anything that could get you killed. It’s only until you spent more time with him that Zhongli tells you that he has never had someone care for him or want to spend time with him without some alterative motive. 

Zhongli radiates sheltered child from birth. To outsiders, he seems really slow on normal everyday tasks but that’s because he’s never had to worry about doing mundane things. He’s always had someone else to do them for him that when he’s out in public, he just stands around and waits for someone to help him. It’s incredibly awkward for everyone in the situation when Zhongli forgets to bring mora and just stands off to the side until one of his servants comes to pick up his check. That’s how Zhongli got such a bad reputation of being a spoiled brat despite being a well-mannered and polite man. When he drops something he just turns to look at you, back at the object, then back at you. You have to pound it into your brain that no, Zhongli is not a lazy and he isn’t trying to be insulting, that’s just how he’s lived his life. When you tell him he is fully capable to picking things up, because what if he dropped something important when he was older and the wind swept it away, he pounders the thought as if you’ve just explained the meaning of the celestials to him that you give up and just pick it up for him. 

A Prince from Mondstadt named Venti used to come to Liyue for playdates while their father’s talked business and politics. He was the complete opposite of Zhongli but you genuinely liked him. While he was a bit more bolder and hyper compared to the calm and quiet Zhongli, he would always try and get Zhongli out of the palace and outside. You end up missing so many fun and interesting things when you’re locked up in your study room. How can the next Emperor care about his land when he doesn’t even know what it’s like to live there? It was the first time you and Zhongli went out just for fun and you might have gone a bit overboard in hindsight, but Venti’s personality and the feeling of freedom to do anything was addicting. Plus, watching Zhongli’s reactions to all these new feelings made him feel a bit more human. While you knew that Zhongli would do everything for Liyue, you never got the impression that his heart was in it. 

From then on, you and Zhongli try and carve some time out of his schedule to go down to the streets and have a little bit of a break. When you both built kites and scaled all the way to the mountains to fly them, it was the first time you’ve seen Zhongli be bad at something. He always had such elegance and perfection whenever his teachers asked him to do something but as soon as the kite took flight, it would stumble then come crashing down. Zhongli had the most heartbroken puppy expression on his face that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. While you’re on the ground gasping for air and probably have the most ridiculous expression on your face, Zhongli smiles gently as he looks at you then back to Liyue. The moment is ruined when Guizhong comes running towards you both and scolds you for sneaking out. 

While it’s somewhat annoying when other attendants in palace gush about how well Zhongli is growing into becoming the next emperor, both in smarts and appearance, you have to somewhat agree with them in some places. If you want to know the history of Liyue or how to properly place a tea set, he can tell you in incredible detail. However, when it comes to social cues and interactions, he’s awful at them. Everything is treated a business deal that it makes everyone somewhat nervous or uncomfortable that you’re internally dying at any social event he goes to. But despite the awkwardness, he has a lot of admires that frequently send him letters of marriage or adoration that you have to shift through. It makes you a bit uncomfortable reading the flowery language but it surprised you a bit how many people have the misconception that Zhongli planning to have you as his spouse. When you mention this to Zhongli as a joke, he returns to his thinking pose and he contemplates the idea before nodding and agreeing with the letters. He proposes to you right then and there and it’s such a sudden development that your brain has finally broke and you pass out. 

Venti

Venti is one of those royalty types that spends so much time outside and away from his duties that he’s basically thrown his cape and crown to the wind. The first time Zhongli visited Monstadt, his first impressions of Venti were him singing to a crowd. While Zhongli doesn’t understand why Venti would spend his time on music rather than his studies, they still get along well. Mostly because Venti has a very easy going personality, even if he’s a bit blunt, but whatever comments he makes fly over Zhongli’s head. Unlike him, you’re the complete opposite. You’re a knight in training with an earnest heart that wants to protect the City of Mondstadt with your entire being. While you don’t necessarily hate Venti, because he never asked to be born into the royal family, you can’t help but get frustrated at his nonchalant attitude towards everything aside from alcohol and music. 

Your first meeting with him was during your time training under the Favonius Knights. You wanted to get a bit more practice late in the night when Venti stumbled upon you bullying a poor wooden dummy before he announces his arrival. He laughs a bit at your fumbling as you quickly get into a proper kneel but he waves it off saying it was unnecessary before he asks what you’re up to. You’re in mid-explanation when Venti cuts you off with a yawn and you can feel the irritation creeping up on you as you snap back why he’s outside instead of inside the safe walls of the castle. Your irritation grows even further when Venti smugly grins, patting himself on the back from getting a rise out of you, before he reaches into the bag you just noticed he was carrying to produce sheets of music. 

While his teacher’s drone on and on about the production of wine, he is busy writing songs in his textbooks. While he understands the importance of his role, he thinks the people can rule themselves just fine without his help. He wants to leave his crown and become a bard and live an ordinary but free life. How he’s always sneaking out to go explore without the world constantly breathing down his neck. Whether his posture is correct or if he’s memorized the history of berries wouldn’t matter. Honestly, Venti is weighing his options of either staying as a royal or leaving everything behind to pursue the life he wants. When he finishes his heart-felt speech he expects you to give him those same pitiful and woe is you eyes but you’re just angry. You can understand his sentiment, living a life that you never asked for isn’t fun, but suddenly packing your things and jumping ship would only cause chaos and conflict. At least have some sort of replacement before you leave damnit. 

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, rather than taking offense to you, a nameless knight, basically insulting the him, the Prince, he lights up in excitement. He rips his cape and crown off before he’s shoving them onto you before you can even say anything. He’s almost bouncing on his feet as he tells you that you can freely take his crown and become the next in line. You have no idea how that would work but he mentions that he knows a man named Albedo that can help change your appearance to look like him. That way, you get to protect the City you love so much and he get’s to live the life he’s always wanted. It’s completely fool proof with no flaws whatsoever! Except for the fact, that he is jumping way too far to conclusions, he’s shoving his responsibilities onto you, and most importantly, you don’t the first thing about Venti and how to act like him. 

Before you know it, Venti has dragged you to meet his Father to personally appoint you as his personal knight. He doesn’t take no for an answer even though you aren’t qualified at all to be protecting someone of high position as him but Venti’s always been a handful that someone needs to watch over him. You have no idea how one night managed to throw your entire life into this chaos but you’re not sure if you can even get out of this situation at this point. 

Kaeya

It all happened so suddenly. You and him were playing in the gardens when his father rushed in and took both of your hands and dragged you to the border to Khaenri’ah. The land you were both used to seeing, the friendly baker that would always give you both sweets, or the magic that used to flow so freely was transformed into red cubes. You were both scared and confused but as you both reached the border oh Khaenri’ah, a large gate that leads to the above world of Teyvat, his father tells you both to run as far as you could and never look back before he pushed you both in. It wasn’t until years later that you both discovered that a corrupted god had taken control of Khaenri’ah. Now, everyone believes that the Khaenri’ah prince is dead because he’s been missing for so long and whatever hope Khaenri’ah has is gone. For his own safety, he had to change his name to Kaeya and you both found yourself at the gates of Mondstadt. 

It took a lot of adjusting for the both of you but Kaeya especially. Your mother had dropped you into the care of Kaeya’s family for a short while before everything went downhill. She was a bit on the neglectful side but she was still your mother and you knew she was alive. On the other hand, Kaeya lost his entire family and nation in a single moment. Whatever pure happiness and bright personality he used to have quickly regressed until he was a shy and quiet kid. You know he blames himself for what happened even if there wasn’t anything he could have done but he’s grown a fear of outsiders so he tends to avoid other children his age. Instead finding comfort in playing with the funny looking abyss mages and slimes that are on the outskirt of Mondstadt. While he doesn’t seem bothered by the weird comments other people make of him, you know deep down he does get hurt, that it makes you so mad that you end up lashing out. 

You end up getting into a few fights as Kaeya patches you up. He scolds you and says that he doesn’t need you to go so far for him is when you make him a promise that you’ll protect him with everything you have. It’s the first moment since everything happened that he seems to gain back that life in his eyes. He blinks at you before he chuckles sheepishly and comments that you can’t even tie your shoes correctly do you stumble a bit. You’re a bit embarrassed at your sudden proclamation but stand determined about it. You both end up making a pinky promise to stay by each other’s side until the very end. 

When you’re both older and in the position of Captain and Teacher in the Favonius Knights is when he seems to be a bit more open. You both end up gaining a reputation of the laid-back Calvary Captain that bother’s the strict but kind Teacher. He’s always waltzing in the middle of you class to tease you before you end up throwing something at him to get him to stop embarrassing you in front of new recruits. You end up getting back at him with your woe is me acting and push all your paper work on him. Since he loves spending so much time in your class, he should know how to do all your paper work right?. Despite all of this, if anyone needs to find Kaeya or you, you’re basically a packaged deal. Always attached to the hip. 

Kaeya knows deep down, at some point he’s going to have to go back to Khaenri’ah and save his people but he’s conflicted. While he knows it’s selfish that he get’s to live a life of freedom, he wants to be selfish. Not just for him but for you as well. You’ve both basically lost everything and now that things are okay, he doesn’t want to give that up. While you both promised to stay together until the end, you’re the only person he has left and he doesn’t want to rope you into his mess or have you worry about him. He’s heard of the blond traveler in black and blue that is searching for the lost prince of an unnamed kingdom, knows that the peaceful life he has right now will come to an end, but he pushes it aside. Besides, there are more important things to attend to. Today might be the day he tells your students about how you fell into a lake because you got scared by a frog. 

Jean

Jean is incredibly dedicated to her role and to her people because she’s genuinely a good person and wants to see people happy. Especially her sister Barbara. She’s a bit awkward and clumsy in her execution but she has a lot of heart. Being her personal knight, you know just how hard she works and you admire her greatly for her ideals and nature. She has such a professional and gentle façe when she’s out in public but as soon as she’s behind closed doors, she’s collapsing into your arms as the world lifts for a short while. You chuckle a bit amused at how different she appears to the outside world, how the ever prime and proper Princess wakes up with a rat’s nest, how her favourite food is pizza, or how she throws these 7 inch heels out the window as soon as a ball is over. 

Due to Jean’s kind-hearted nature, when it comes to more pushy people she can’t seem to say no to. Travelers or citizens that think they can take advantage of the Princess is what makes your blood boil. While she isn’t stupid and knows that people are taking advantage of her, she wants to extend any help she can. Not for her public image but because that’s how she is. While it warms your heart that people like her exist, as her knight you can only let so many things slide. When some shady peddler tries to lead Jean somewhere, you’re already stepping in and smilingly sweetly as you grip the peddler’s hand in a death grip and not so subtlety say that he better have a good excuse for why he wants to drag the Princess away or there might be a problem. 

When Jean is overworking herself and nearing her breaking point is when you step in. You may be her knight but you’re also her friend and you know when it’s time to stop her destructive habits. She might complain and reassure you that she’s fine but you don’t accept that. If she was “fine” her temperature wouldn’t be the same level as a pyro slime and she wouldn’t have such dark circles under her eyes. It’s a simple bend and lift to carry her in your arms that she ends up stuttering before going pink and let’s you carry her to her room. While she’s screaming into her hands, you’re preparing medicine and everything she’ll need to make a full recovery. 

The hardest times for Jean is when her Father constantly pesters her to find a husband. Jean is an independent person and while yes, while being a workaholic isn’t against help, but she doesn’t believe she needs a husband just to make her entitled to rule her kingdom. Besides, Jean is secretly a hopeless romantic. You’re very tight lipped about secretly finding her love story books hidden under her bed unless you want to see her self-combust. You try your best to comfort her but there’s not a lot you can do for her situation other than offer words of reassurance and try and get her mind off things. While you’re patting her on the back she’s looking at you as if you’re the most oblivious person in the world. 

Albedo

Albedo is a renowned alchemist that helps royal families with their problems with the use of his intelligence and abilities in alchemy. Something that only a few people can do throughout Teyvat, you being one of them as well. At first, you had admired Albedo and his abilities and saw him as a bit of a role model for young alchemist. Until you actually met him in person. He’s pretty much an emotionless void of a person that he comes off as extremely unempathetic when he listens to the woes of royals. While you sort of agree, the problems that royal’s commission you for are completely ridiculous and selfish, he doesn’t have a moral compass and if he can benefit from it. He’ll do it, no matter how questionable it may seem. 

Maybe it’s because you have a little sister figure in your life to stir your moral compass but it still get’s you irritated. It’s always a joy to see Klee when you come back home from your travels that whatever bad mood you were in suddenly washes away. But when you knock on Alice’s door only to have it open to reveal Albedo holding Klee in his arms does your world come crashing down. Klee is completely ignorant to your internal screams as she scrabbles out of Albedo’s hands to give you a hug and take your hand in hers as she leads you inside. You can almost feel the inner workings of Albedo’s mind as he stares at you blankly as Klee shows you the new art she drew.  

You both don’t mention or talk about it even when you happen to cross each other’s paths outside or you both end up seeing each other at Alice’s home. It’s a bit funny to you, to the outside world Albedo seems so aloof and untouchable, and yet you’re here watching him get tired from chasing Klee around and trying to stop her destroying her home with her bombs. It almost makes you smug when Klee listens to you better than Albedo, it might seem a bit petty and small but you don’t care. He ends up getting back at you when he ends up one-upping you in front of the royal court. He does a quick scan of the room before his eyes land on you and he shoots you a small smug smile before his face returns to it’s neutral expression. You’re clapping along with everyone with the most strained smile you can muster. 

You manage to find out from Klee that Albedo enjoys drawing that the next time you see him, you ask if you could see him draw something or if he had sketches on hand. You’re fascinated by his drawings, more so than his actual research discoveries, as you look at the tiny details he’s managed to capture. Outside of Klee, no one’s really been interested in his drawings that he can’t help but feel a little flustered when you’re gushing about his work. It’s different from people praising his alchemist efforts, you’re not someone whose staring at him like he’s on a pedestal when you say you like his drawings, and it feels genuine. He offers a small smile and says that if you’d like, he’d love to show you some more sketches. 

You’ve never noticed it until other people bring it up but Albedo seems close to you. Usually once he’s done his business he leaves but if you happen to be around, he sticks around a bit longer just to speak with you. How he seems comfortable to relax in your presence and even leans in closer. How he complies with your requests without any benefit to him. You’re not sure what type of relationship you hold with Albedo. You don’t think you’re friends but you’re definitely closer than acquaintance. If taking care of a a hyper active walking bomb doesn’t bring two people closer than you don’t know what does. But at the end of the day, you find you don’t really care. Not everything needs to be labelled and categorized like things are in alchemy. People don’t seem to understand but you always duck out and escape before you’re questioned further about your personal life. Unbeknownst to you, Albedo is watching you go as he ponders your words. 

Childe

Childe is such a clown. He’s an assassin that doesn’t know the first thing about being subtle and is just in it for the fighting. He’s really just an incredibly egotistical bastard that likes being friendly with his targets, just to see their shocked expressions when it’s him that comes to take their life. He’s actually a pretty down to earth guy. While other assassins in the Fatui either have tragic backstories or some sad pitiful tale, Childe just laughs at them. His family is still alive and he’s never had any true hardships in his life. He’s pretty disliked for this reason but he’s a skilled enough fighter that it somewhat makes up for it. 

Just when Childe’s life is at its peak, is when he slips and falls into the abyss. For the first time, he had to face against a threat and in a situation he has no control over which is completely foreign to him. He barely manages to survive until he’s saved by an unknown figure that goes by the name Skirk. While he’s grateful he’s still alive, facing his mortality for the first time gives him a lot to reflect about. Thus he makes the impulse decision to train under Skirk and grow stronger until he’s able to climb out of the abyss. That’s when he meets you who was travelling with Skirk for the same reasons. Your first interactions with this unknown teen is him challenging you to a fight, just for you to throw him over your shoulder as if he weighed nothing. You expected him to get angry or cry but instead he’s standing right back up and grinning like a psychopath as he asks for another fight. You’re looking at Skirk with the most, are we seriously bringing this child with us? look. 

From then on, it’s been the three of you travelling through the floors of the abyss. Skirk tells you the stories of this place, how it used to be a great nation before corruption cause the citizens to be morphed and transformed into monsters. You and Childe learn how to fight alongside Skirk against these monsters until it ends up becoming a competition between you and Childe on who can kill the most monsters. Skirk is a bit worried that when you both are back into the outside world, if he should be worried about how morbid you both might appear. But while you’re both yelling at each other who actually landed the last kill on the regisvine while the hilichurls are cowering in a corner does he just accept that things aren’t going to change. The world will just have to accept it. If you both actually teamed up, and you have before, he thinks you both would be unstoppable but you’re both too stubborn. 

Despite your rivalry, Childe still has his big brother instincts that whenever you get hurt he’s huffing over you like a mother hen as he scolds you for being so reckless. You’re ignoring the fact that he’s bleeding out while you have minor cuts because you don’t want a crybaby Childe on your hands. Even the harsh conditions of the Abyss, you both find ways to entertain yourself. Childe always challenges you to a fight every second of the day and he always ends up with a sore back when you knock him off his feet. And he always makes the joke that you’re sweeping him off his feet which ends up with him screaming bloody murder as you charge at him. It doesn’t help when he’s still yelling comments behind his shoulder that you might get mistaken for a gorilla when you’re both outside that Skirk has gotten so used to this that he simply ignores the attempted murder going on behind him. 

When you’re both strong enough to climb to the gate of the Abyss, Skirk feels almost like a proud parent. Giving you a head pat and a hard slap to the back for Childe does Skirk wave you both off. You’re trying to mask your tears as Childe grins and promises to see you on the other side, that you’ll definitely meet up in the future no matter what. But when he finally returns to the Fatui, works his way back up to being an assassin, he almost thinks Skirk is laughing at him when he realizes that his first target is you. Not that he’s bothered by it, he'll be happy to see you again and see if he can finally beat you. 

Baizhu

Baizhu is the most suspicious doctor in the history of all doctors. Some citizens aren’t even sure if he’s a qualified doctor but alas, he’s very good at his job and is a lot more tolerable compared to the Alchemist Albedo so that’s how he’s been able to keep his job. He works under the Liyue emperor so even if citizens had issues with him, it’s not like they could do anything in the first place. People aren’t sure whether he’s joking or being honest when he explains what he’s been privately working on behind the scenes. From experiments to rituals, they are taken aback but Baizhu just smiles and says he’s just kidding. Being his assistant, you have to constantly reassure others that Baizhu is a bit of a sadist and likes to get a rise out of people. Besides, why would a doctor be so interested in those type of things? It’s incredibly unnerving but no one questions it. They won’t know what to do in the first place if their suspicious are correct. 

While Baizhu knows how to do his job, he’s always sending you to do the dirty work. From getting medicinal plants up on the very top of mountains or bringing cranky old men their prescriptions, whenever you’re done one task he’s got three more for you. He could at the very least take the trash out while he’s busy doing nothing. At least the job has a few perks. You’ve always had numerous health issues and while Baizhu’s reputation is a bit on thin ice, you wouldn’t trust anyone else to look you over. He’s a bit weird about it, you’re pretty sure Baizhu will never love another person emotionally but when it comes to the science behind a human body, he’s absolutely smitten. He tries to reassure you that he does care for the wellbeing of Liyue but you wave it off at him trying to butter you up before he asks something ridiculous of you. 

You and his snake, Changsheng, do not like each other. You think she’s an annoying and bratty snake that Baizhu needs to throw into a jar to shut up while she thinks you’re a complete nuisance and doesn’t understand why Baizhu keeps you around. Baizhu has tried to get you both to reconcile but it always devolves into a petty argument of back-handed insults until Baizhu has enough and tells you both to quiet down. To be truthful, both of your hatred towards each other stems from two completely different reasons rather than disliking each other’s personality, but you can never bring it up to Baizhu. It’s not a conversation anyone wants to have. 

If he has one positive, it’s his adopted daughter Qiqi who is just an absolute sweetheart. She’s shy and prefers to follow after Baizhu and you like a lost duckling. While Baizhu might be the worst boss in this history of all bosses, it makes you grin smugly internally when Qiqi chooses to stay cuddled in your arms instead of his. Qiqi is 95% the reason why you stay in this job, not that Baizhu would ever let you leave, because you’ve genuinely grown fond of someone for the first time the same way she has for you. You bring her along whenever you need to give prescriptions to citizens just so she isn’t stuck in within the same four walls and the locals love her. From her forgetful nature or how she shy’s behind your legs whenever someone new approach's you both. It’s so cute that people tend to ignore the floating rumours that Baizhu is reanimating his previously deceased family. 

---

I have no idea if I’m just uncultured or if “Always and Forever” Au’s are a thing. I hope you all like this 👉👈 it’s kind of messy and all over the place and I lowkey don’t know if I like my brainrot (there’s a lot of issues ik). I kinda want to do a part 2 where I include other characters but let me know if that’s something interesting? Oh and feel free to add to this, I’d love to hear your ideas. 

[flareish]

Overwhelmed

kuroo x reader

summary: With so many deadlines coming up the reader is overwhelm and buried in work and can’t help but to lash out. However, Kuroo is always there to pull her back

genre: college AU, fluff, pinch of angst

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none I think

a/n: I have been trying to make all of my requests gender neutral but sometimes I slip up and throw in she/her pronouns so tell me if you notice any that I didn’t catch. Enjoy!

The teachers were out to get you, you were sure of it. You push yourself every day to be the best, to be ahead of everything, all the assignments, all of your classmates just so you could possibly enjoy college as well as have good grades. But what did that get you? Impossibly high expectations. Suddenly everyone around you expected you to ace every test you did and just pull perfect essays out of nowhere. Which is exactly what just happened. You had been working on an essay all night. It hadn’t been your best work but your brain just couldn’t make anything better. That was all you had. You were almost at your limit with no end in sight. Then, despite all your hard work, your teacher handed it back to you saying that “this wasn’t the best I could do and that I shouldn’t start slacking off now”. She thought she was being helpful but right now you wanted to do was strangle her. Sure you could do better. If you didn’t have eight more assignments to do after this. Each one more mentally taxing than the next. But it’s fine, let me just rewrite this essay.

Why couldn’t you just be the kind of person who didn’t care? Or rather had given up caring. They probably learned their lesson that when you try you don’t get the reward you get more work. Why couldn’t you just not care too?

Deciding to jump back into your workload, you sit down at your desk in your dorm and begin to type. Words were kind of flowing. They weren’t exactly coherent thoughts but at least it was something to work with. As if your day couldn’t get any worse, your roommate comes barging in with three of their friends. 

“Oh oops didn’t realize you were studying in here Y/N.” Your roommate said, not actually making an effort to be any quieter though. Shooting back a quick tight smile, not wanting to be rude but also just wanting them to leave. You were hoping they were just grabbing something and then would leave but they went and sat on the bed and turned the TV on. 

You made a show of checking the time before loudly announcing that you were suppose to meet someone at the library. As much as you wanted to be petty and make them feel guilty for interrupting your study time, it was just easier to just leave. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen them do anything except study. Talk about too school for cool.” You heard one of them joke as you left.

“Ugh tell me about it. You wouldn’t believe what time they goes to bed.” Your roommate adds. You roll your eyes and trying to ignore the comments. Is it really that crazy that you’re actually trying to learn at a place where you pay crazy amounts to be taught? You were just so done.

Luckily the library was fairly quiet since it had gotten quite late. You settled into your favorite spot and got to working. Although no matter how hard you tried nothing came to you. There was one sad paragraph on your screen, you must have reread it a million times hoping to spark some kind of inspiration from it. Nothing. Your brain kept drifting off on you and you would end up staring across the library without a single thought in your head. The time just kept slipping by. The more that went the more panicky you got. This was a time that you should be working but you just couldn’t. And of course the more desperate you got for inspiration, the more it avoided you. 

You just let your head drop and hit the table. You were so done. You just wanted to scream. There was no one you could talk to either. Recently anyone that talked to you got snapped at. They were just all so calm and relaxed despite all of the work that has been coming in lately. Here you were, drowning in it, and they were happily swimming. Just the other day you and Kuroo had an argument over homework. He’s taking one of the hardest chemistry classes and he was there telling you it was going to be okay?! It just felt insulting. You knew he didn’t mean it like that but couldn’t he at least pretend to struggle? Damn you boyfriend for being so smart.

You really wanted Kuroo right now. 

As if summoned by your thoughts, you felt hands slide onto your shoulders. You tense up kinda freaked out at who is touching you until you see that it’s him. Kuroo. For a moment you wanted to just throw yourself at him and forget about your homework. But then you remember your argument and how you’ve been a monster lately and resist. He’s having none of that though and keeps his hands on you.

“How long have you been here.” He asks gently. You glance at your computer and notice that it’s almost 3 am.

“What are you doing here?! It’s 3 am.” You say startled at the fact it had gotten that late and that he was also up that late. Usually, he is asleep by ten.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies as he straightens and starts packing up your things.

“Uh- Hey! Wait no- give me that! I’m not done yet.” You try and snatch back your stuff but he gives you a stern look and you sink back into your seat. You suddenly realize how tired you are and surrender. He’s finished putting everything away and throws the strap of your back over his shoulder. Prepared to carry your bag for you. Now you feel drained. Your limbs all feel heavy that it’s exhausting to even think about getting up.

“Come on let’s get you back to your dorm.” He mumbles pulling you up by your hand. You let him, flying up from your seat and onto your feet. You land right in his chest and you don’t want to go anywhere but here. For the first time in weeks, you feel calm and secure.

“Can I just stay here for a minute,” Your voice cracks as tears slip down your face. He didn’t say anything, he just wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close to his body. In this moment you felt nothing but love. The relief and comfort you felt was enough to make you cry harder. You don’t know how long you were stood there but no matter how long it was Kuroo never once rushed you. He just let you let it out. Once he saw that you had calmed down he gently pull back, bringing a hand to your cheek to wipe away any stray tears.

“You ready to head back now?” He asked again, planning on walking you back to your dorm.

“I don’t wanna,” You pout, “There’s a ton of people in there and I don’t wanna see any of them.” You are still salty at your roommate and their rude friends.

“Do you want to come to my dorm?” He asks, “Kenma was passed out when I left so it should be quiet.” You nod. You feel him put your backpack on you and you’re confused. You were kind of hoping he would take your backpack for you. You know be a gentleman and all. Then he squats down in front of you. 

“Hop on.” This was pretty normal for the two of you so despite your sleepiness you bounce up onto his back. He adjusts you higher on his back before leaving the library. Waving to library worker on the late shift who giggled at the two of you. 

You snuggled your face into his neck and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. His footsteps seemed to lull you like a lullaby. You fell into a weird state as your body sleeping but your mind was awake. Hearing everything clear as day but the thought of opening your eyes or moving a muscle seeming impossible. 

You start waking up more when you realize that you have made it to his dorm, letting him toss you down on the bed. You throw your backpack off to the side and head straight for under the covers.

“Ah ah! You’re in dirty clothes,” he gently complains, no real bite behind it. You grumble but let him pull you over to the edge of the bed. You had been so close to sleep. He slides your shirt over your head and replaces it with one of his hoodies. Only then once you’re in his clean clothes does he let you snuggle back into his bed. This time with him in there as well. 

“Goodnight my love.” You finally slip into a peaceful state. You still had a lot of work to do but at least for tonight you will rest without worry. Tomorrow you know you need to make up with Kuroo but you know he could never stay mad at you. Come the morning you know Kuroo will help you with everything. He’s finished giving you space, now you’re stuck with him.

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 1

Because this was my first time doing this I went a little crazy. If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Time:

- It had been welcomed with open arms.

- You two are literally the opposite but also very similar. Time is calm and stoic. You are chaotic and loud. But both of you are very cryptic.

- You’re the only person in the kingdom of hyrule currently that remembers what he had gone through. He feels like he can trust you with anything.

- It’s started with a slip up by wind and just spiraled out of control.

___________________________________

Time was discussing the groups inventory with Twilight and Wild when it happens. A small slip of the tongue followed by a laughter that could be mistaken as a fairy chime. He looked over to see your bright smile shining through under your hood. In front of you was the target of your amusement, the youngest link.

“That’s so cute!” You exclaimed to the horror of Wind, who was red in embarrassment. “Wait who’s dad?”

“Can we let this go?” The teen was covering his face now.

“It’s Time.” Four said without looking up from his book. Utter chaos broke loose in camp with just a few words. A chorus of any forms of agreement was making you laugh even harder. Time though covering up his true feelings about the situation was very lost. While yes, he acknowledged that he had slowly became the father figure of the group. That title didn’t involve you.

Unless…

“Time! I didn’t know we were married!” You bounced over to their leader looking at him with a playful smirk.

A life with you flashes in his head.

There could be a small cottage farm surrounded by the forest that reminding him of his old family and home. You could take care of the garden while he could take care the animals. In a few years the two of you might just have a few kids running around. Playing with each other without a care in the world. No more fighting. No more traveling. Just a simple lifestyle with a tight knit family. It looked peaceful. Everything he would want.

“You should have told me.” He was brought back to the present by your face looking up at him expectedly.

“I thought you knew.” He said super seriously. “We’ve got to raise nine children together already.”

“Hey! I raised you during the war old man!” Warriors called out from across camp.

“You’re the uncle then!” (Y/n) countered “I already say Twilight is our first born!” You declared pointing to Time’s flustered descendent. The rest of the conversation was tuned out as he went back to his thoughts once more.

Time lived longer than most of the heroes here by age 11. Yet not once did he stop to think about a future and family. He was so busy trying to keep out of hero work that it just slipped. Yet see you with the other heroes, knowing now that you were just as much a parental figure to the others as him. It made his softer just thinking about it and he welcomed that warm fuzzy feeling with open arms.

Reaching out he brush’s hair out of your face to kiss your temple. “I’ll propose to you properly later.” He said in a teasing tone to suggest he was only joking to hide the truth in that statement. Seeing your entire face flush red was really worth it.

“Gross Mom and Dad are flirting!”

___________________________________

- He’ll never once tell you straight if he liked you or was just playing along with the ongoing joke that the chain has.

- This time instead of you observing him. He wants to see how far he can go until confessing.

- It drives you crazy. Since you can’t get a read on him. You attempt to flirt back in retaliation. However, it always ends with you being the most flustered.

- Who knew the Old Man had it in him?

Twilight:

- It became a melancholic hopeless feeling that spiral out of control.

- He already had his heartbroken by someone before and he knows he shouldn’t get attached to you too.

- Yet he can’t stop himself from wanting to be near you. He heard you so clearly before.

- Now that he can actually speak to you directly, he wants to get to know his other travel companion more.

___________________________________

Being alone in the forest with you wasn’t what Twilight planned when dropped in a different Hyrule but here you two where. You offered to go on patrol with him when the others were setting up camp claiming it was too see if you could identify the era. It didn’t matter since Twilight enjoyed your company no matter what. The lack of conversation between the two of you didn’t bother him. If anything, it felt the most natural. Only a few words were needed for the two of you to understand each other. “Do you mind if I use my wolf form?” Twilight asked fiddling with the chain that attached to the shadow crystal around his neck.

You paused to think about it. “I mean you can. But be aware I will baby talk you.”

This got Twilight to stop walking. Maybe he lied. He doesn’t need a few words to understand your thought process. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t control myself around cute creatures.” You simply stated like it was the most obvious thing.

Instead, Twilight was burning up. You thought his wolf form was cute? Of all things you used that word? What did you think of human Twilight if you thought like that? Did he want to even know? He was searching for any way to take this conversation but it all lead to dead ends. “Cute?” Was all he could ask. His voice pitching up as he got flustered.

“Yeah?” You looked at him just as confused as he was. “Wolves are just like big dogs and to be honest you look more like a giant dog then a wolf.” Your explanation did not help at all with his situation. “If it makes you feel better you’re very handsome as a Hylian and also built like an go-“

Twilights brain was malfunctioning he couldn’t hear any more of what you had to say about him. He grabbed on to the shadow crystal, turning into his wolf form he ran. He didn’t hear you call out his name in surprise.

Hylia, what was wrong with him? You were just a friend. A very blunt yet gentle friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. Why was his heart racing so much? He had heard you shower him in complements before while on his first adventure. But hearing you say it to his face with no shame whatsoever was a different story.

Twilight knew what these feelings were and deep down he really wanted to act on them. But was it ok? Was his heart finally healing from his last love? Twilight was already aware this time that you had to leave at some point. He didn’t need to act on them despite wanting to. He could just be your friend and continue the relationship like that.

His heart was already breaking a second time.

Twilight was in love you and it was driving him crazy.

___________________________________

- Like Time, Twilight isn’t going to tell you about his feelings. Instead, he is going to forever pine for you.

- It’s going to be a slow process and you need to be aware that he will get hurt if you’re going to go back home.

- He’ll see you off with a smile, but as soon as your gone he will break.

Warriors:

- It was full of denial and fear.

- He went through the receiving end of someone’s obsessive love.

- And it doesn’t help that you’ve watched over their adventures. He vowed to not get that close to you.

- There was a need to destroy the endearing feeling he sees when you smile at him.

- Yet seeing you with a sad far out look on your face makes him scramble to your side to find out what’s wrong.

___________________________________

It was just the two of you. Weaving throughout the crowds of castle town. You were currently in Four’s Era and in the middle of the Picori festival. The group was long spilt up, leaving Warriors alone with the dimensional traveler. Soon even (Y/n) was walking away from him. He didn’t know why he followed, the argument in his head was telling him that it was so they didn’t get lost. Yet there was a part of him that knew that wasn’t it.

“Where are you going anyway?” He thought to finally ask as you reached a quieter area. “It’s going to be hard to spend time in the festival from here.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” You were a bit snappy today, “shouldn’t you find someone else to hang out with?” Warriors just shrugged as you slowed your pace down to pause in front of the small river that ran through castle town. The silence now filled with the rushing of water as you sat on the bridge.

Against his better judgement Warriors sat next to you. Finally, he got to talk to you one on one but the normally impulsive and excitable person Warrior’s grew to expect had changed in that moment.

You looked so tired.

“Hey Link?” You finally called out to him “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but…” hesitation was new to your character. “How do I even start?” You rake a hand through your hair. Sweeping a part of your hair out of your eyes. “Was I ever helpful during your Adventure?”

Oh… Oh he really wasn’t the right person for this talk.

You look back you and towards the festival and he followed your gaze. From where they were he could only spot a few of his party members. Wind was with Legend and Hyrule playing some of the stall games. While Four was with his Zelda holding hands as she pulled him further into the crowd. “Last time I saw this festival it ended up destroyed by Vaati.” The wind mage was only brought up a few times by Four. All Warriors really knew was that the villain was supposed to be sealed away by the Four Sword, and that his power was connected by the dark mirror. “I found myself wondering if my presence even mattered.” Your shoulder slumped in defeat as you curled into yourself.

The instant need to comfort shot through Warriors. He wanted to reach out. He fought the urge to hold you. He bites his tongue when he started to think of embellished words to make you feel better.

What was wrong with him?

Warriors had to say something though. “I don’t know about Four or the others.” He didn’t even think about your presence in his adventure too much. If anything, he actively tried not to think about it. Here you were though a person and not a figment of in his imagination. “During the war, your voice and presence is what broke the tension. The moments that could have been my lowest, you were there saying things that I wanted to repeat out loud.” There was a fondness while he was looking back at the memories. From the moment he ran on the battle field foolishly as a trainee soldier. His pride grew upon hearing your praise and surprise when seeing him fight for the first time. To your excitement while meeting his friends from the other Eras. He shared your sentiments about Mask as you cooed over the child as Warriors fought by his side. Then your anger, disgust and pity towards Cia. While on his side, your empathetic nature had you morning during her passing. These where just the tip of the iceberg.

Just having someone voice out mutual thoughts on a situation helps when you can’t do it on your own. You feel crazy thinking the way you do. “With you there it’s like you always have someone by your side cheering you on and supporting you.” He paused to look at you. Conflicting emotions clashing together. You turn to look at him, your eyes only briefly visible through your bangs. Curiosity and guilt were swarming with in them. “I’m not the person to talk to about this.” He finally admitted out loud. “But I would be lying if I said your presence wasn’t important to us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Was that not what he was supposed to say? Warriors tried to stay calm under your gaze.

You let out a huff of laughter covering your mouth and turning away from him a bit to calm down. “I didn’t think about it like that.” There was a pause where you looked back at the festive before turning back to smiling softly at him. “Thanks Cap.”

The smile that you had on your lips had Warriors stomach do back flips. A blush decorated his face as he turns away. “It’s something that should have been said a while ago.” He manages to say without stuttering.

You were really pretty.

The sound of a picto box followed by winds snickering, was ignored when the thought had just register in his head. He finally realized how far he fell for you.

___________________________________

- one by one his defenses lowered.

- With every smiled sent his way, with every laugh that he earned. He found himself wanting more.

- He slowly opens up, a slow process but it wasn’t as scary as he thought it was going to be.

- A teasing nickname here. A gentle touch there. He realizes he has gone too far.

(Part 2)

[aiekerman]

Easy - Eren Jaeger

Eren Jaeger x Reader - fluff, college!au

AN - If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t. But in actuality it is a repost I just changed it to second person oops. But anyway, hopefully anyone who sees it for the second time likes it again lol. 

(A part 2 and/or prequel does exist for this in my brain if anyone was ever interested!)

Song vibes: Easy by Troye Sivan ft. Kasey Musgraves

Summary - Just a pair of friends that definitely do not like each other. But leave their rooms at midnight for each other with no hesitation, and know each other’s food orders, and are low-key affectionate with each other.  A pair of friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: Hey :)

Eren drags his head out of his textbook as his phone goes off. Pushing stray hairs back off his forehead and out of his eyes. His tired eyes lit slightly at the sight of your name. His fingers quickly replying

Eren: Hey u

He glances at the time, 12.03 am, he frowns, worried whyyou were awake so late. Three bubbles appear on his screen as he waits for your reply to arrive.

Y/N: U up?

Eren: I’m texting u back aren’t I?

Her reply takes slightly longer this time, and his mouth crooks up at the side, picturing the eye roll you were most definitely doing.

Y/N: Shut up

You know what I mean

Eren: Yeah I’m up

Last minute studying

He pulls the phone from its charger and leans back in his chair, one foot against the desk leg and swinging back slightly. You take a little longer to reply and his eyes drift to the top of the screen where your contact picture is. His mouth betrays him again and a smile ghosts over it. 

The picture is simple. A candid of you sat proudly in front of a sandcastle you were making at the beach during spring break. Your legs splayed either side of it, covered in sand. You were smiling up at someone, probably Sasha, your hair a wavy, salty mess, blowing in the sea breeze.

Your reply finally comes, vibrating the phone in his hand and dragging him from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes at your message.

Y/N: Midnight Taco Bell run? :)

Eren: Have you been smoking?

Y/N: No I just also happen to be doing midnight work and have a craving

His fingers move to reply before another message comes through, very quickly, and he pauses.

Y/N: And I miss your dumb face

Eren: You mean my pretty face?

Y/N: I change my mind I’m asking Jean

Eren: Shut up I’m getting ready now

Y/N: :))

Eren chucks the phone over to his bed, staring at his textbook for a second. He knows he should keep studying, or better yet, go to bed. But he misses you too. He stands from the seat and shuffles around his room, quietly as possible. Armin was definitely asleep and would definitely make a dumb comment about Eren being whipped for someone he wasn’t even dating.

Eren brushes off the thought and pulls his sneakers on, swaps his gym shorts for sweatpants and scrapes his hair back into the best bun he can manage. 

After wandering out of his room he grabs his keys and wallet from by the door and shuts it over with the quietest click he can manage. 

On his walk to his car he sends one more text.

Eren: Getting in the car now

Eren: I’ll be like 10 mins

Y/N: I’ll be the cute one in pyjamas ;)

He laughs at the flirtatious message before switching on his car and driving off. 

His mind doubles back to what would be Armin’s comments on the situation. They weren’t dating, but flirting between friends was entirely normal. He shakes off feeling the need to justify his relationship with you. You were friends, best friends. That almost hooked up once. The first time you met. But now you were just friends.

Before he even realises it he’s pulling up at the kerb by your building, his eyes glancing up to the door and watching a shadowy figure emerge. His head leans back against the headrest when her form comes into the dim street lights.

You’re dressed the same as him, sweatpants hugging your hips and an oversized hoodie drowning your top half. He squints for a second, was that his hoodie? Nah, it probably wasn’t, you had similar taste in hoodies anyway. You push the hood back when you reach the car, a mess of hair tumbling out around your face. It resembled a bedhead, but he knew you well enough to conclude you’d been sleepily running hands through it all night to make the mess. Tugging at the roots in efforts to stay focused on whatever it was you were working on.

You tug the door open and pull yourself into the seat. Situating yourself before turning to him and pushing your glasses up her nose, foregoing contacts at this hour, ‘Hi.’

He smiles down at your smaller form, ‘Hey you.’

‘Let’s get going.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, watching you slide down in the seat. Your eyes are wide as you stare back, ‘What?’

‘Seatbelt.’

You roll your eyes and push yourself back up, reaching for the seatbelt, ‘Yes, mother.’

Hearing the belt click in place he pulls off, satisfied with your safety being secured.

You grab his phone from the cupholder, and push it under his face slightly, not obstructing his view but close enough for him to give it a quick glance and unlock his face ID for you. You start scrolling spotify and find your combined playlist, made with midnight food runs in mind. RnB starts flowing out of his speakers.

Dropping the phone back in the cupholder you turn to look at his profile, ‘So what you been studying for?’

‘Psychology final, not until next week but after I kinda bombed the midterm I don’t wanna be caught off guard. You?’

‘Final project is due in two weeks. I’ve kinda got it finished but I’m not sure.’

He smiles, knowing you were just being a perfectionist about it.

‘Am I gonna get to read it?’

‘Why do you want to?’ You laugh at him, looking over at his profile that was focused on the road ahead, but seeing his lip was pulled up in a smirk.

‘Cause you haven’t shut up about it all year, I wanna know if all the support snacks I’ve bought you have been worth it.’

You scrunch up your face and shove it down into the hoodie you were adorned in. It smelt like Eren. Wait, was this his hoodie?

‘Huh, nothing to say back?’ His grin is too smug as he steals a look at you. You glare up at him, ‘Shut up.’ 

Silence settles over you in the last minutes before you approach the destination. You push yourself up to sit when the glowing sign comes into view, your eyes lighting up again.

‘Drive thru or sit in?’ Eren questions, approaching slowly as he waits for an answer.

‘Sit in, please.’ He nods before swinging into a parking spot.

You both jump out and Eren rounds the car to your side, bumping you with his hip in greeting now you were out of the car. His hands are stuffed in his pockets but you grab hold of his sweatshirt sleeve gently as you start joking about how you had to sneak out without setting off Sasha’s food radar.

Inside you bounce ahead of him slightly, up to one of the self serve screens and start ordering. He smiles softly at how you had to shuffle the too-long hoodie sleeve up to let your hand emerge.

He comes behind you and places his chin on top of your head, watching as you confidently tapped at the different items.

‘You haven’t asked what I wanted yet.’ 

‘I know your Taco Bell order, idiot.’

‘Maybe I want something different this time.’

‘No you don’t.’

The screen goes black for a second while loading the checkout and he glances at your reflection. You push your glasses up your nose, looking up and sticking your tongue out at him when you see his eyes already on you. 

He smiles before ruffling at your already messy hair and standing back to pull out his wallet. Glancing up, he catches you doing the same and suddenly moves quicker, as do you. Whipping out his bank card and reaching around you to tap it on the terminal, the familiar beep of a successful transaction going off before you can push your card in the bottom slot.

Eren grins in triumph while you stuff your wallet back in the hoodie and grumble, ‘Stupid contactless card.’

You pull the receipt from the machine while he walks over towards a booth, dropping into the seat and stretching his legs out while watching you.

Your hands are shoved into the hoodie, you sway and shuffle around on you feet. Standing still was never one of your strong suits. 

A smile takes over Eren’s face as you yawn and rubs at your eyes, pulling the hood up over your head and pulling at the strings slightly. He chuckles at the image of your head being swallowed. You turn at the sound and frown at him, mouthing out ‘don’t laugh at me.’ Prompting his laughter to continue on.

He settles back in the booth when their number is called and you wander up to accept the tray of food.

Dropping yourself down across from him, the two of you automatically begin splitting out their food, almost instinctively knowing which packages were for who; Eren always had the nachos, you never deviated from fries. 

You ate in silence for just a moment before you pick up conversation again, ‘Are you gonna go to Jean’s party after finals?’

‘So bold of you to assume Jean could pull off a decent party without me.’ He smiled, stuffing a bite of his burrito in his mouth as you giggle. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean yeah probably, if everyone else is going.’

‘Well, Jean has got me and Connie roped in to help with set up, so Connie will make Sasha go, and Sasha will make Mikasa go, who will make Armin go, who will make sure I don’t flake off early and I’ll make sure you stay.’

‘Connie and I.’ You correct, reaching for your drink.

‘Shut up.’

‘Also, Eren Jaeger flaking early from a party is wholeheartedly unheard of.’

‘I left the last one early because someone needed to be walked home after throwing up.’

You pause with the straw at your mouth, eyes narrowing in a glare. 

‘You can’t get too messy this time anyway. Bertolt is gonna be there.’

You scrunch up your face in confusion, ‘Why’d you say his name like that.’

‘Because, you haven’t got laid since spring break, he’s cute and you said you guys have gotten super close from your fiction writing class.’

You roll your eyes at the tall boy’s explanation and shrug, ‘He’s kinda cute. I guess. And we haven’t gotten super close, we barely knew each other before the class.’

‘Exactly, he’s at perfect arm’s length for a hook up. You deserve it after all the stressing you’ve done this semester.’

You shrug again. Setting your drink back on the table and leaning back, your feet stretching out to bump against Eren’s, you think about it.

Eren watches you, yourr eyes staring out into space. Bertolt was cute, he didn’t get around that much from what Eren had heard of the boy, but he was sweet enough that he knew he could trust him with you, even just for a night.

But even as he looked you over, dark circles beginning to shadow under your eyes, figure swamped in your loungewear and hot sauce staining one edge of your mouth. You were way out of Bertolt’s league.

‘You’re probably way too good for him anyway.’

‘Even just for a hookup?’ Your eyes meet his green ones, your mouth showing a teasing smile starting to form.

He stuffs more burrito in his mouth and nods.

‘You think I’m too good for everyone.’

He swallows and reaches for his drink, ‘cause you are.’

‘Was I too good for you, is that why you didn’t have sex with me?’ You start grinning and laughing as he chokes on his drink. He leans an elbow on the table as he coughs, glaring at you through his lashes.

Eren sticks a hand out at you and gestures for you to cough it up. You pull a dollar from your wallet and stuffs it in his hand.

He imagines it’s the same dollar he gave you last week after he joked about your almost hook up. The metaphorical ‘don’t talk about the time we almost had sex’ jar was essentially the same dollar passed back and forth.

‘Was that one worth it?’ He raises an eyebrow at your giggling face as you reaches to open your crunchwrap, nodding in a satisfied manner.

You hold the hexagonal taco in your small hands and Eren chuckles. You eye him, taking your first bite and speaking out a muffled, ‘What?’

‘Your tiny hands always make those things look huge.’

‘Maybe your meaty boy’s hands just make it look small.’

He sticks a hand out in front of you, palm spread out to show the full size, ‘My hands are not meaty. And they’re no bigger than average.’

‘What are you talking about?’ You mirror him, lifting your hand to press a palm against his, the tips of your fingers just brushing above the second knuckle. 

‘Your hands are just tiny.’

‘No, they only look small because yours are huge.’

You both fall silent, two sets of eyes trained on your pressed together hands. Eren ignores the feel of his heart pounding up against his chest.

What was wrong? They’d held hands before? 

The ring of your phone blaring out an alarm drew both of them from the trance. Eren slid his fingers to interlock with your’s, playfully pushing your hand back towards your body.

‘Who’s calling you at this hour?’

‘No one, I, uh, I set an alarm for one thirty am. Otherwise we’d sit here all night, knowing the two of us.’

He lets out a small laugh, nods in agreement and starts to gather up your trash. His eyes run over your face just before standing, choosing not to make fun of the blush gracing your cheeks.

You stand and fall in stride next to him, bumping his hips with your own and poking his side, ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Got your eye on anyone for Jean’s party?’

‘Nah, I’d rather just chill. I’ll probably spend half the night making sure Jean stays relatively sober for his own party.’ You laugh at the idea, nodding your head fervently. Jean usually ended up the messiest of the bunch.

The exit into the cold night air, and your body is immediately taken over with shivers. Eren rolls his eyes but loops an arm around your shoulder, his own body a constant furnace. You hum in appreciation, leaning into his side as he rubs at your arm.

Climbing into the car, he blasts the heat. This time you pull on your seatbelt with no need for prompting, your head turning to stare up at him, the raise of her eyebrows translating to You happy?

He stays quiet, pulling on a cheesy grin that answers back, Very.

You flop back into your seat, a yawn overtaking you and the heat of the car soothing you The effort to keep your eyes open immediately doubled.

‘You can close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get to your building.’

You look at him with a sorry expression, ‘But I dragged you out I shouldn’t-’

‘Sleep, idiot,’ he cuts you off, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run over your hair, long fingers running through it. Always a surefire way to make you sleepy.

You drift off quickly, a smile softly laid on your cheeks.

Eren feels his heart beating hard once again. He swallows it down. Focuses on the road. Just friends was easier.

[chudleycanonficfest]

you belong with me

Day 11, story #1 is by @accio-broom

Title: you belong with me Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur Weasley / Molly Prewett Prompt:  Soulmate AU Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None, unless Arthur Weasley trying to enjoy his birthday offends you.

When Arthur Weasley woke on the morning of the 6th February, nothing was out of the ordinary. He took his time, easing out of sleep like a man with nothing to do. He stretched out his body with a loud yawn, then pulled back the curtains of the four-poster bed, ignoring the attack of the winter air that filled the dorm room.

He was going to have a perfect day.

Wiggling his toes on the plush rug next to his bed, he greeted his fellow dorm mates.

“Morning, Ry.” Arthur tipped his head towards the Gryffindor on the bed opposite him. “How’s it hanging?”

Ryan was not a morning person, and he grumbled at Arthur before snuggling further under the duvet. Arthur chuckled and joined in the conversation about the latest Quidditch scores, trying his best to not lament too long on the disappointing Cannons scores. He gathered his wash bag, and made sure he had clean briefs with his uniform, then waved a cheery goodbye as he wandered off to the bathroom, whistling as he moved.

Today was Arthur Weasley’s birthday, and the day he came of age, although the notion was rather peculiar to him. He didn’t feel all that more responsible than he did yesterday, but according to Wizarding Law, he could now leave school, get a real job and get married, should he wish.

He scoffed as the thought of getting married flitted into his head, disappearing as quickly as it came. That would mean actually landing himself a girlfriend, something he hadn’t yet achieved during his six years at Hogwarts. He hadn’t even come close.

As he showered, Arthur mapped out his day in his head. If it all went to plan, he’d enjoy a big breakfast with the rest of his school friends. His classes today were straight forward—double Muggle Studies this morning, then Potions this afternoon. Between these would be lunch, and a free period, where hopefully, he’d be able to go for a fly, if the weather was okay.

If he survived the day, then he and his friends were planning a night of wizard chess, birthday cake and butterbeer, which hopefully Ryan was going to sneak from the kitchens for them.

Shower done, he dried himself off in front of one of the mirrors. As he did, he examined his body. He didn’t look any older than yesterday, there were no new lines or hairs on his body. He was still the same gangly lad with violent red hair and far too many freckles to count.

Arthur settled his glasses on his face, then loosened his towel. Without warning, a soft femine voice filled his head, taking him by surprise.

Merlin, I hate red hair.

Tightening the towel around his waist, he looked around the bathroom for the source of the sound. 

“H-hello?” he called out, but the only reply came from the echo of his greeting bouncing off the tiles. “I-is anyone there?”

I wish I were blonde or a brunette—anything but this. Nobody fancies redheads. 

His heart pounding, he checked all the nooks and crannies in the room, only to find that he was the only one there. The tips of his ears turned bright pink as he turned his attention back to his reflection. Dark circles sat under his eyes, and a frown covered his face. He was tired. It was the only explanation for the voice that was still filling Arthur’s ears with insecurities. There had been a few late nights in the library recently, as well as some early morning Quidditch practices. They must be catching up on him.

He’s no spring chicken, after all.

Hurriedly pulling on his uniform, he combed his hair then carried on whistling, hoping to block out the now persistent voice in his head.

⁂

The girl’s commentary didn’t stop whilst Arthur ate his breakfast. It filled his ears, dragging his shoulders down with negative thoughts and observations.

Everything is so greasy here, the voice wailed. No wonder I’m putting on weight. I’ll get spots if I carry on eating like this. I wish Mary wouldn’t wear so much perfume. It makes me feel sick.

The negativity depressed Arthur and was the last thing he needed on his birthday. He’d hoped for a nice day, full of presents, and easy lessons and time spent with his friends, but instead, Negative Nancy was ruining his time. He didn’t even fancy opening his gifts, which had been delivered by owl mail just as he sat down for breakfast.

Glancing down the table, he tried to work out the source of the interference in his brain, but the Gryffindor table was full of people, and conversations flew around them from every angle. He sniffed, wondering if Mary’s perfume could lead him in the right direction, but all he could smell was baked beans.

With a sigh, he shoved his second sausage into his mouth, letting the taste of his favourite breakfast food cheer him up, even if it was only a little bit.

Muggle studies was Arthur’s favourite topic, but he found it hard to concentrate as his head filled with arithmancy. He hated the subject, there was a reason he didn’t choose to continue the subject after their O.W.L.’s, so it irritated him greatly that the thoughts were disrupting learning more about muggle bridges. They were such beautiful contraptions, too.

Lunch was just as bad. Although the voice was annoying, Arthur was starting to get used to it. However, what was infuriating him was how familiar the voice sounded, yet he couldn’t work out who it belonged to. Whenever it filled his mind, it brought warm feelings and stirred something new deep inside his belly. Whatever was happening to him, he felt awkward that he was getting a very up close and personal look into someone else’s thoughts. Throughout the morning, he’d experienced such a vast range of emotions, and he felt like he might explode.

His birthday was going downhill rapidly.

By the time Potions came around, Arthur was exhausted. He arrived at class before the rest of his peers, and as soon as he settled into his usual seat, he folded his arms and rested his head on them. He was about to drop off to sleep when…

“Good afternoon, Arthur. Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Arthur’s ears pricked up. It was the same damn voice he’d been hearing all day, but this time it was loud and happening outside his head. Peeking over his arms, he watched as Molly Prewett sat down next to him and gave him a warm smile.

It was her, the voice inside his head. How had he not realised this before now?

Although he and Molly weren’t best friends, she had been his potions partner since their first year, and they often found themselves sharing a table in the library late at night. Could she hear his thoughts the same way he could listen to hers? Or was this all one-sided?

“Oh, yes, it’s fine,” he said, finally lifting his head from the desk. “Perfectly spiffing.”

Perfectly spiffing? He’s never spoken like that before, and definitely not to Molly Prewett. He usually chooses his words carefully around her, not wanting to look like an imbecile.

She giggled, and Arthur goggled at her. Was she only laughing at his choice of words, or was his internal commentary amusing her. His pulse started to quicken. There had been many thoughts throughout the day, some that would mortify him if anyone else heard.

Arthur checked on Slughorn, who was distracted writing today’s recipe on the board. Summoning the courage, Arthur took a deep breath then reached out with his mind. He crossed all his fingers and toes that this would work as he thought hard.

“Hello? Molly?”

All of a sudden, Molly sat upright in her seat. Her face turned towards him, and even through the smoke from their cauldron, Arthur could see that her eyes were wide, and her jaw was almost reaching the desk.

“Arthur? Oh Merlin, is that really you? Is it your voice I’ve heard all day?”

“Yes? I mean, I think so. I’ve been hearing your voice since I woke up, and I was curious to see if you could hear the same.”

A red blush crept from Molly’s neck and onto her cheeks, and Arthur was sure it wasn’t from their cauldron or the heat of the dungeons.

“How much did you hear?” Molly averted her gaze from him.

Arthur paused, weighing up his options. Should he lie and protect Molly from inevitable humiliation? Or should he tell her the truth? It was a difficult choice, and both came with a list of pros and cons. But Arthur wasn’t a dishonest man, and if this problem continued for much longer, Molly deserved to know what she was exposing him to.

Plus, if she was experiencing it too, then she probably had a good idea of what he’d heard.

Reaching a decision, he flexed his mind again. “All of it. I’m sorry, Molly. I tried my best to ignore it all, but it’s all I can hear.”

“What’s going on? Do you think we should go and see Madam Pomfrey?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle. The mind-reading was not an illness or spell damage, and they hadn’t been near each other recently, save for right now. 

It’s no coincidence that this started on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, and his brothers had mentioned something similar happening to them, although at the time, Arthur put it down to them yanking his wand. They often liked to tease him, as older brothers do.

It was Percival who’d mentioned it, while they were tinkering with a Muggle car in their father’s garage last summer.

“So, this school year is going to be fun for you, Arthur,” he’d said, a smile on his face. “Coming of age, you’re allowed to go to Hogsmeade without supervision, you’ll hopefully get your apparition licence too.”

Arthur had smiled, his stomach lurching with excited nerves. “If I pass.”

Bilius had piped up. “The family record is five attempts.”

“And Dad has never grown his eyebrows back.” Percival smirked at his brothers.

Arthur joined in with the laughter, relishing getting to spend time with Percival and Bilius. Percival had married almost straight out of school, and although Bilius remained single, he was always away on secret missions for the Order of the Phoenix.

Grinning at Arthur, Pervial spoke again. “Of course, apparition isn’t the hardest thing you’ll have to deal with. If the voices start, you’re in for a treat.”

“Voices?” Arthur fumbled with his screwdriver as a frown appeared on his face.

“Yeah, don’t you know?” Percival continued, adding oil to the engine. “When Weasley men come of age, they have a special way of finding their one true love.”

“What? No, you’re making this up. This is all fairy tale nonsense, surely? Bilius hasn’t met anyone!”

“How do think Perce landed his wife so quickly?” Bilius laughed. “Wasn’t his charm or good looks, that’s for sure.”

Percival and Bilius had erupted into giggles again. The tips of Arthur’s ears burned pink. There was no way this sort of thing happened, they were just having him on. But still, the thought had appealed to him. He was so unlucky in love, that the thought of being able to automatically identify his future wife had piqued his interest for sure.

Would he be like Percival or Bilius? Only time would tell.

⁂

Arthur hadn’t thought back on that conversation since it had happened. But if what his brothers had told him was true, then there were worse women in the world to be hearing in his head. Molly was kind and pretty. He’d always had a soft spot for her, but he’d never acted on it for fear of being rejected. Now, he probably didn’t have a choice.

Taking a huge breath, he reached for Molly’s hand and squeezed it. His grip trembled but felt it pertinent for him to try and be brave, given the enormity of what they were facing. In an attempt to distract himself from her internal panic, he wet his lips before finally whispering in a low voice, 

“What do you know about soulmates?”