#he literally sits in the damn dark too so my friend pointed him out after we passed i want to die

[chiistarri]

done with him 🙏

[tired-biscuit]

18+ fem!reader / suggestive themes, oral fixation, established relationship

the thought of bakugou with an oral fixation just crossed my mind.

but the interesting thing about it is that he's not infatuated with his own mouth, but rather with yours instead.

so it's no wonder that katsuki catches himself zoning out whilst staring at the way it moves. you walk with your hand subtly resting in his amongst the crowd that's gathered at the local fair, fingers intertwined tight. he can barely acknowledge the people to surround him, despite the fact that he's skilfully avoiding collision every step of the way.

the people you pass by consists mostly of chatty, slightly awkward teens that stick to their own groups in hopes of not embarrassing themselves, overly-hyperactive children who seem to be unable to stop themselves from running around with their equally as rowdy friends, and all of the kids' parents, who insist on shouting their heedless warnings of 'slow down!' and 'be careful!' - all of which katsuki is pretty certain will be landing on deaf ears throughout the rest of the night ahead.

but luckily for him, none of those people stop to talk to him or, even worse, ask him for pictures. the reason for it may be because he turns completely unapproachable whenever he's with you; looking like some big, scary guard dog that seems like it'll sneer and cause hurt if one comes too close. or perhaps, quite possibly, it is because he's put on a disguise for tonight - a rather bad one, but still a disguise that works.

it's simple, yet effective. a black baseball cap, which he's pulled down low on his head, keeps his unruly hair somewhat in check even if strands of ash blonde stick out underneath the brim where his ears and nape are, tickling his tan skin that's been kissed by the sun throughout the warmer months. a pair of sleek sunglasses sits on the bridge of his nose, hiding his crimson eyes from view. his hero gear is sitting at home in his closet because he's replaced it with shorts and a simple t-shirt that makes him sweat less instead of more.

glancing down at his attire, katsuki knows he may look like a douche; wearing sunglasses when it's already dark out. however, he's certainly not willing to risk being recognized. after all, it's rather nice when random people don't care all that much about him for a change. it's quite pleasant, actually.

and as is expected, he couldn't care less about them either. it's hot out tonight, the peak of summer is right around the corner. and that means that the entirety of his attention is on you. you're all pretty-looking in your light sundress and sandals; the latter being something he particularly likes because of the way they keep your footsteps light and show off your nail polish in the shade that he knows damn well is your favourite colour.

thoughts preoccupied with your bare legs, katsuki's hand leaves yours so that he can rest it on the small of your back instead. but as his fingers graze the thin fabric of your dress, he catches himself not caring all that much about your attire either. because when you turn your head to look at him, your smile wide and your teeth repeatedly sinking in and out of the pink chewing gum you've been terrorizing for literal ages now, his interest remains solely glued to your mouth.

and surprise, surprise: you don't seem to be showing any signs of stopping the chewing any time soon. he really is a lucky man today!

katsuki huffs at the thought. watching you from the corner of his eye, he's almost positive that the sugary flavour must have vanished from the gum by now, and yet he can still smell it every so often - the fruity scent wafts to his nose whenever your lips press together and a bubble pops right beside him, filling his lungs with phantom strawberries just like your chapstick has a tendency to do.

pop, pop, fucking pop!

you're relentless.

"wanna go grab a bite to eat or somethin'?" he asks at some point, his voice gruff. strained. chewing noises normally bother the living fuck out of him, but when it comes to you, he's instead attracted to hearing more. how odd. "'cause a cheeseburger sounds real good to me right about now."

amongst other things.

"mhmm, mhmm!" you hum in answer while nodding, your lips still pursed because of what must be the hundredth bubble that night.

however, as your boyfriend sinks his teeth into his burger a couple of minutes later, all your own teeth sink into is cotton candy. and katsuki, trying to appease his lewd interests right there - at the table, watches as you nibble on it, of course he does. he borderline leers at the sweet threads of sugar that stick to your fingers. how they melt in your mouth because of your saliva that he's yearning to have mixing with his own right about now. at the leftover splotches of artificial colouring that now stain your fingerpads and tongue whenever you stick it out to lick the former clean.

and goddammit, it all makes his adam's apple bob as he swallows - prominently, audibly. his toes wiggle with an evident wish to curl in his sneakers before he forces them to stay put as he angles his foot further forward on the footrest. there's a heat present in the pit of his stomach now, and it's not because of the chili flakes that he'd asked to be put into the meat of his burger earlier.

"you okay there, kat?" you ask at some point, licking the last remnants of the cotton candy off the stick in one slow, long swipe which he definitely doesn't miss. he swears that he catches you smirk slightly against the wood when you reach its end and suck on it a little.

his eyes narrow behind the sunglasses as he readjusts in his seat. his shoulders feel stiff, his skin hot, his underwear uncomfortably tight. it's a good thing you can't see him openly gawk at you like this because of the shades, but he has a feeling that you know what sort of thoughts are lazily rolling around in his head anyway.

great.

"babe?"

"m'fine. just eat your goddamn food," he grunts finally, tearing his gaze away from you. "if you can even call that heart attack on a stick food, that is."

the last bit, he speaks just a little bit quieter. softer. your giggle is as sweet as your mouth probably is as you say, "you're the one that ate a greasy cheeseburger, you know... besides, i've already finished it."

he studies your fingertips again. your mouth. remembers how it had moved before he sighs into the warm summer air. "guess we'll have to get you some more, then."

"well," you mumble, a smile ghosting over your lips, "if you say so. but i don't want more cotton candy anymore."

of course you don't.

and so, the candy apple he buys you afterwards smells like caramel. you absent-mindedly tell him how it reminds you of him as you press your mouth against the hard, sugary shell and your teeth get to work on breaking little bits of the caramel off the fruit. it's spoken without a second thought, completely out of the blue. and katsuki, poor, poor katsuki, doesn't know why, but the words send heat searing over his face; send his heartbeat into fucking overdrive.

thump, thump, thump. his heart is going wild in the same way his thoughts are.

"you like caramel?"

"yeah... you could call me a fan of it, i suppose."

it's like you've placed your mouth on him as you say that - on his burning, licked by constant flames body - instead of the stupid apple. it's like you've kissed him before tasting him properly; all tender and soft and loving before adding just a little bite to it like you're doing now. just like you do whenever you sleep over and he comes home from work all beaten up and covered in grime. just like you do whenever you're happy and whenever he's sad and needs some comfort.

by the time the comically oversized lollipop comes into play, he's done for; you've practically sent him into heat even if he's nothing but a mere human. the twirling of your tongue against the hard sugar reminds him of something else, the fullness of your mouth whenever you push the sweet towards the inside of your cheek makes him think he can do the same thing to you with another kind of sucker instead. the way you suck and lick the damned thing nearly sends a shiver down his spine despite the heat that lingers all around him, because he can feel it, too.

it makes him throb. makes his pulse thunder inside his ears like a drum, and it causes his underwear to not get just too tight, but somewhat sticky, too. your mouth is constantly busy and he wants to be a part of the rush, so it's no wonder that the blood that suddenly travels south turns him impatient and makes him hold onto your hand just a little bit tighter as you continue to walk around the fair. the sudden urge to go home and take care of himself roars within him like a beast on a rampage.

"are you gonna spend the night at mine tonight?" he grits out as he hands you a plushy he's just won for you. it's still a pretty new relationship you're both in, but he's finding it quite pleasant; sharing a bed with someone other than his dog from time to time. perhaps the stuffed bear you're now holding in your hands could join you as well.

"sure," you reply whilst grinning again; showing him your teeth. making him sweat despite the casual t-shirt and its light cotton. "what are we gonna do at yours?"

"i dunno. we'll see," he says, shrugging nonchalantly even if he's feeling far from it. he represses the urge to wipe away the thin film of sweat that's gathered on his brow even if it makes his hair stick to his skin underneath the cap. no risks when it comes to uncovering his true identity.

"oh, are we gonna kiss? we can kiss!" puckering your lips until a repetitive smooching - and awfully childish - sound comes out, you wink at him playfully and grab hold of his bicep. "because i know you've been wanting to do it sooo bad... better yet, c'mere! we can start right now, lover boy."

"aha, sure we can," he indulges quietly, thoughts already running wild on ideas of different kinds of kisses he'll surely be leaving all over you later. and even if he tries, katsuki can't possibly hide the pink blush that tints his cheeks and that forces a cord in his neck to turn prominent the moment you step onto your tippy-toes and plant a quick peck onto the corner of his mouth. it's so sweet that he might just melt. his heart is a puddle already.

maybe he'll give that wretched mouth of yours something else to do besides eating candy and teasing him all night.

you do love to keep it busy, after all.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 22: apology fic

Based directly on S2E17

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

tw: Reid's addiction, withdrawal symptoms, it's more like hurt/comfort but I think that was the point of this prompt, haha

You hugged your pillow tighter as you looked out the jet window, feeling too sad to try to fall asleep, but tired enough to do anything else.

You felt hurt by the argument you had had with your friend, with whom you had previously sat in an armchair to sleep together, but who was now sleeping alone on one of the longest seats.

Spencer had been weird, and with good reason, since Tobias Hankel had deprived him of his freedom and you honestly didn't know how to help him anymore. You had tried approaching him to chat and constantly asking him if he was okay, always getting the same fake response from him. During cases you would offer to accompany him wherever Gideon sent him in an attempt to monitor his mood, but he always looked just as sad, quiet and tired.

However, things changed drastically when you heard the presentation of the case the day before and you saw Spencer arriving late, staggering and with a look that no longer seemed sad at all, but angry. There was something about the way he slurred his words that worried you and his dark stained eyes around him didn't help much.

It made you feel a little better that he offered to visit certain places when you were discussing responsibilities on the jet and you thought that if you accompanied him you could find time to talk to him, but you were taken by surprise by the cruel rejection he showed to your idea. Hotch noticed it too and forced your friend to accept your help, which he didn't seem too pleased with.

What you didn't expect was to see his ruthless and unconscious attitude when you visited the homeless shelter, hinting to the manager that literally anyone who entered could be a murderer and then just walking out of there.

“Okay, what the hell is happening?”

“What's happening with what?”

“With you,” you murmured, frowning at your friend “You've been so strange lately and now you're upset and… what's going on?”

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding almost offended “I don't know Y/N, what do you think? Did you want me to be happy and smiling like a little child after everything that happened?”

“Spencer, I know, but…”

“No, you don't” he interrupted you, with a reprimanding tone that took you by surprise. Since you had started in the unit, he had never spoken to you that way, as if you were incapable of understanding things and that irritated him “You don't know anything and I ask you please not to get involved in things that don't concern you.”

“Things that don't concern me? You... I'm worried about you. We are friends, of course I am going to care about your well-being”

“Do you care about me or do you care that I don't screw up the case?” he spat. No matter how much you tried to make him see reason, he was still locked around that black cloud that had been following him for weeks “Don't be a hypocrite.”

“I am not a hypocrite, it isn’t my fault that you believe that you only deserve good treatment when there is an interest involved”

Things had started to escalate, because if you weren't angry before, now you had started to feel that way.

“It's my damn problem whatever’s happening, not yours. You just mind your business and leave me alone, will you?”

He walked away and you stood there, contemplating for a moment what had just happened and feeling hurt. For the rest of the case you didn't speak and on the trip back you made sure to sit far enough away from him so you wouldn't have to face him. Only you and Hotch were awake that night and the man's voice asking if you were okay brought you out of your thoughts.

“I talked to Reid to find out what's going on and he told me to go to hell,” you responded, shrugging your shoulder and with a tone that denoted that you didn't want to talk more about the matter. Aaron just nodded and offered you a polite sorry, concentrating on the paperwork he had to fill out.

A week passed before the silence became unbearable. He wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't know how to do it and he didn't know if you would agree to talk to him after the way he had treated you. It was a Friday when he gathered his courage, so when he observed that you were about to go home he decided to cut you off by standing in front of you.

You didn't talk about the incident with anyone else, but as the days passed the whole team noticed the barrier that had been installed between the two of you and that you were not willing to repair, after all you had been the one who had offended after trying to show to your friend your concern. At the same time, while you felt the resentment brewing in your belly, Spencer was freeing himself from the suffocating effect of the drugs and with each moment of clarity that came to his mind he became more aware of the mistake he had made.

"Can I talk to you?"

“You're doing it,” you responded, looking at him from your seat seriously. Spencer noticed Morgan and JJ whispering in the distance, probably about the two of you, so he turned his eyes to you.

“Can we talk in private?” he rephrased, with a cautious tone that bordered on pleading. You didn't respond verbally, just nodded and he followed you towards the elevator. You went down in silence and once you were at the reception you continued walking to the parking lot, stopping next to your car.

Spencer didn't want to be the first to say something, almost like he was afraid of you.

"And then? What do you need?"

“I want to apologize to you,” he said quickly “For what happened the other day in Houston. I shouldn't have told you what I told you, I'm very sorry."

You were a little surprised because, although you assumed it was about it, you didn't expect him to tell you so directly, but rather you thought that he would try to justify his actions in some way. Still, you seemed a little reluctant to answer and Reid noticed that.

“It's okay, it doesn't matter.”

“It does,” he insisted and the parallel with your argument added a certain sensitivity to the moment “I was very rude to you and you didn't deserve it.”

“Reid, I think I should have respected that you don't want to talk about it.”

“Don't apologize, I'm the one apologizing here,” he murmured, not sounding annoyed, but desperate. He ran both hands through his hair and then thought that if he wanted his apology to be worth it, he would have to be honest with you “Listen, I haven't been having a good time since… that day” He swallowed, refusing to call the event a kidnapping “And when Tobias… when he…”

“Don't tell me,” you said softly, breaking the physical and emotional distance between you by taking a step forward “If you don't want to talk about it, I'm not going to make you.”

“I want to do it, but I don't know how. I’ve never known how to ask for help,” he sobbed. Suddenly his grumpiness in Texas seemed like nothing compared to seeing him this sore, which made your chest hurt “I feel like I'm falling into a bottomless pit and the only way to keep those I love safe is to keep them out of my own misery and thus free them of my burden.”

“You're not a burden,” you murmured, your voice shaking slightly at the thought of him feeling so worthless. “You were kidnapped, Spencer. You said it yourself, how can we expect you to be as if nothing had happened? I didn't want you to think I was pressuring you to be okay, I just… I wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help you. Because I want to do it, but only if you want me to do it”

“I'm sorry for telling you to leave me alone, I don't want that,” he cried and nothing more was needed for you to wrap him in a hug that he gladly accepted.

You could feel his silent tears on your shoulder and with every drop he let fall he felt more and more guilty, because he never intended for things to end like this. He was supposed to apologize to you and now you were comforting him.

He felt so selfish.

“Please don't be angry with me anymore.”

"No, no. I'm not angry," you reassured him, raising your hand to the back of his neck to caress his hair "Why don't I take you home instead? And I'm staying with you today, what do you say?

"Would you do it?"

“Of course,” you replied gently.

He accepted your offer and you drove the entire way without exchanging a word. Only once you were in the safety of his home he dared to tell you everything that needed to be said, still with a hint of guilt. But when you listened to him, forgave him, and hugged him he knew that he had chosen the right person to trust. And he also knew that he would treasure your friendship for all that remained of his life.

taglist: @navs-bhat@reidwritings@tricia-shifting14@spencerslove@vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death and the Scarlet Witch

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face.

This probably makes slightly more sense if you've read Scarlet. Rio goes to visit the Scarlet Witch, during the time Wanda is hanging out in that cabin at the end of Wandavision studying the Darkhold.

This one has warnings for lots of mentions of death, small-d, and also Rio is not always very nice. She is, however, very romantic over Agatha.

Death is everywhere. She is on a Road that doesn’t exist and, in that same second, she is next to the hospital bed of a young man, both of them ignoring the flurry of activity around them as nurses and doctors try valiantly to save a life that has already passed into her hands.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says.

“Most people aren’t,” Death replies. “How was what you had?”

He thinks about it, then gives her a tentative smile. “It was pretty good?"

She offers him her hand. “Sometimes, that’s the best you get.”

In the same blink of an eye, she sits on wet pavement next to woman staring at a mess of twisted metal.

“I wasn’t ready,” the stranger says.

Rio keeps her sigh internal. “Most people—“

An elderly woman in a nursing home. A child swimming where they shouldn’t have been. A man killed in a fight gone wrong.

Death is everywhere she needs to be.

And simultaneously, she is at a cabin in a beautiful, remote wilderness, a cabin that radiates an achingly familiar dark power.

She pushes open the door, startles a woman making herself a cup of tea, and has to hastily deflect the bolt of red energy flung toward her.

It isn't a very good deflection and in her head, she can hear Agatha murmuring, you’re so sloppy. You have so much power, but your technique—

Yes, Ags, I know. Shush now.

“Hi,” Death says. “I’m Rio.”

The woman stares at her, then gives a short, mirthless laugh. “I know who you are,” she says. “You have followed me all my life.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rio says.

She can’t help but notice that Wanda is beautiful.

Not like that. No one is beautiful like Agatha, frustrating, gorgeous monster that she is. No, Wanda Maximoff is beautiful like an apocalypse. She is the end of any number of worlds, the potential for a sea of corpses the likes of which even Rio has never seen.

It does amuse Rio to imagine how jealous Agatha would be, though, were she here. She always hates when Rio is looking at anyone but her.

Rio never is, of course. Not really.

“What do you want?” Wanda asks, snapping her back to this moment alongside a million others. “Is it—is it my time?”

She sounds so hopeful.

"No," Rio admits. "I wanted to talk."

She isn't sure what she wants, not really. Revenge, maybe, but why should she? Agatha doesn't deserve her fury, would scorn her protection.

Rio wants to protect her anyway.

Still, there are rules. She can't simply take Wanda. And she's made enough exceptions for Agatha already.

Wanda's laugh turns softer and simultaneously more hollow. "To talk. Death wants to talk to me. Why not? I feel at this point we should be good friends, you and I." She sits in a chair that wasn't there a moment ago, and Rio is coming to the interesting realization that Wanda is not entirely well.

Agatha had told her once that the Darkhold broke weak minds. She'd told her that while throwing bolts of dark magic at Rio and crowing over her success in having mastered the Book of the Damned, of course, but the point still stands.

"Lots of people die," Rio says. "You aren't special."

"Aren't I? Aren't I special? The Scarlet Witch," she says the words with too much emphasis, drags her voice over the sounds. "There's a whole chapter on me in the Darkhold, did you know? If that is not special, I don't know what is." She laughs again and there has never been a more humorless sound.

"Riiiight," Rio says. She's starting to think she doesn't need to enact revenge, she can sit back and let the universe take its course.

Feels a little passive, though.

"What more can you take from me?" Wanda asks. "What more can I lose?"

Yeah, I'm trying to figure that out too, she thinks. "I'm not here to take," she lies. If Agatha can do it, so can she.

"…Do you understand grief? Can you?" Wanda asks without prelude, and now Rio isn't sure this broken woman, sitting in a chair that doesn't exist, is talking to her at all.

She's also starting to notice a very interesting similarity between that chair and a certain Road she's currently walking, a Road she always knew wasn't real.

"I do understand grief,” she says, no lies this time. There is something she grieves more deeply than she'd ever thought possible.

Wanda is still talking, still mostly to herself. "I had a husband. I had children. I had everything I ever wanted."

"The ones you made with magic?" It had taken her some time to find Agatha—she isn't sure how long, she's never been good with time—to find the strange little town and the stranger situation her beloved had gotten herself into this time. But find and save her she did, unsticking her from that miserable curse.

Not that Agatha had appreciated Rio sweeping in to save her. She never does.

Still, she remembers Agatha screaming herself awake, sobbing in Rio’s arms, and she does hope there is something more she can take from the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda nods in listless agreement, that family, the fake magic ones.

How fake is suddenly a very interesting question.

"Hey, I want to ask you something," Rio says.

Wanda only nods again, staring vacantly into the past with the expression of a woman who has not fully lived in the present for some time.

"When you broke the spell, you also broke a woman's mind and left her in that place, imagining she was someone else. Someone even more annoying. Why'd you do it, Wanda?"

Now Wanda's attention snaps to her, rivulets of scarlet magic racing up her neck and down her arms, and oh, she is dangerous, all that power with so little control. Rio can picture Agatha's sneer.

"Agatha," Wanda hisses the name. "Is that who you're here to ask me about? Death has come all this way to ask me about Agatha Harkness?"

"That's the one," Rio agrees.

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face. "Still. Aren't you supposed to be the good guy?"

"Not that good, I guess," Wanda says, and now even more of her attention is focused on this conversation. Though much like Rio, some part of her always lives elsewhere.

Motorcycle accident. Liver failure. A bad heart. Death deals with all of them without taking her eyes off the Scarlet Witch.

"Agatha did also break you out of your weird sitcom project," Rio points out. "Made you realize that what you were doing was hurting people. Did you know, I wonder? What you were doing to them? Did you know and try to ignore it, in order to keep everything you wanted?"

Wanda comes to her feet, surges like a wave, staggers like a corpse. Her teeth bare with fury, her eyes leak pain. "Of course I didn't! Are you just here to torment me?! Do you think that I don't have nightmares about what I did to those people? Do you know what I lost to make it right?"

Wow, she's dramatic.

"She only did it because she wanted my power. I was in her head. That woman has never done a single kind thing for anyone in her life, not without getting something in return," Wanda continues and Rio can't hold back her laughter, high-pitched, shrill giggles that contain a note of unfettered delight.

"You've got that right," she agrees, and ugh, she wants Agatha, Agatha smiling, Agatha laughing, Agatha complaining about things not happening fast enough, Agatha kissing her—

Agatha whirling her around with a crown of flowers in her hair, her expression that of someone being tortured on the rack. Agatha, laughing too loudly, cheeks flushed with cheap beer, toasting to them both. Agatha, explaining some ritual in intricate detail while she inscribes runes, talking to Rio mostly to keep herself on track.

Agatha, in their bed, lit by the fireplace behind her, head on her hand, looking at Rio like she hasn't in centuries. "I've missed you," she admits, with a sly smile. "I've been thinking. You and I always made a great team. What do you say we get the band back together?"

This isn't right. This isn't how it happened.

"Can you forgive me?" Rio asks anyway, hating how desperate she sounds.

Somewhere a man falls from the top of a building, several stories too high for survival to be a possibility and lives anyway.

"Of course I can," Agatha says. "I love you."

Hah, as if. Even during their best times, Agatha never would have said it so easily. But her hand is on Rio's cheek, and she's so warm, she feels so real. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her.

There’s something important she's forgetting.

An ICU has a quiet night, no deaths even among their most critical patients.

"Rio, kiss me," Agatha prompts, and the smile on her lips is so close to being right, a taunting, teasing, tormenting expression. "My love, come to bed."

This is what she wants, isn't it? This is what she's always wanted, Agatha, gentled a little, sweeter, softer, but still the woman she loves.

No, she thinks, this isn’t what I want. I want the real thing. I want the jagged edges, I want the cruelty and the manipulation and the way she screws up her face before she says anything even slightly romantic. I want the way she makes big, sweeping gestures to prove her own power, the way she kisses me like she owns me, the way she sings silly, made up songs to herself when she thinks no one is listening and how she can never sit still, not even for a minute—

I want my Agatha.

A girl falls from her bike, in front of a car and—

Death roars back into the world.

Now it’s Rio’s turn to stagger, as reality reasserts itself. "...You got into my head," she says, and she's still so shocked that she's not even angry about it, only impressed. "Congratulations, no one has ever done that before, not even Ags."

No wonder Agatha went after Wanda. Enough power to, however briefly, divert Death. And suddenly, she's very glad that Agatha, who at least claims to hate her, did not succeed in gaining that power, no matter how much Rio loves her.

"You love her," Wanda murmurs. "You really—kind of creepily—love her."

Rio throws her head back and laughs, a shrill, sharp sound, the squeal of tires on the road, the scream of witnesses. "I do," she admits. "I really, really do."

"I could see you, for a moment. The whole of you," Wanda continues. "All the places you are. All those people. So many, all the time. I don’t know how you stand it." She sags suddenly, leans her weight against the much more real counter. "…Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

"When I die, will I see them again? My boys and Vis?"

"Yes," Death says, with absolute certainty. "You'll see them again."

Wanda sinks to the floor, pulls her knees to her chest and shakes with relief, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. "That's all. That's all I needed to know."

"Not yet, though. It isn't your time. You still have things to do," Rio says. "Because you know what, Wanda?"

Wanda only stares up at her, face slick with tears.

"You're right. Death will follow you all your life. In fact, I think we'll be seeing each other again very soon," Rio says, letting her mask drop, and she can see her own skinless reflection in Wanda's widening eyes. "You and me? We are going to have so much fun."

Then, as Wanda starts to form a question, Death is gone. After all, how could she take Wanda now? There is still so much the Scarlet Witch can give her, so many bodies.

Besides, it would be breaking the rules.

But it turns out that there is something of Wanda's she can take. Something waiting for her on a Road that doesn't exist, something she's overlooked, something Agatha, manipulative as always, has been hiding in plain sight.

Rio will make certain that Wanda sees her boys again.

She leaves the cabin, but remains everywhere else.

Somewhere a girl sobs on her shoulder and Death pats her back with practiced movements, perfected over millennia. In that same blink of an eye, she holds an old woman's hand, kisses an old man's cheek, listens patiently to a priest perform his own last rites and guides a protection witch beyond the veil.

Then she steps back onto the Road, hands behind her head, whistling to herself. She's going to go find Agatha. She's already annoyed by all that has been kept from her, and she has no doubt it will be a fight, one where her beloved will probably say something manipulative, cruel or both.

Still, even knowing all of that, she can’t wait to see the real thing.

Want to read something sad? Try Nicky

Want to read something fluffy? Try Flirting

Want to read more Rio thinking about Agatha? Try the thief

[fruitsoxs]

Hello! I like your writing a lot and i was wondering if you'd do wolfwood x gn-reader, and the reader has a flirty and vulgar way of joking. I'm curious how would he react to that kind of chaotic person who likes to taunt and tease

I got a little bit nsfw with this haha-- a little full on smut drabble included so-

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! smut, swearing, make outs, blow jobs, face fucking wolfwood gets a bit rough, it's gender neutral but he does call you "angel" (my dyslexic ass is praying i managed to not put a single "angle" in there)

Okay I really do believe he’d probably think you are hilarious. He’d probably  immediately connect with you. 

You take his jokes, and then you tease him back?? Wowie he’s already in love lol

But here’s the kicker- I think eventually  he’d dish out more than he could take

Especially if he starts falling for you along the way

Like he’d say a whittle inappropriate joke and you would try and up him

And then this man would fold

Red face

Unable to talk

Completely and totally flustered 

One time you make a joke about him using something else for his oral fixation and he straight up walks away

He doesn’t talk to you until the next day

You think it’s pretty funny actually - so you decide to start seeing how far you can take it before he snaps

NSFW part below the cut!

Imagine one day you say something and he finally just explodes

Like you make a job about him fucking your sins away and you thinks it’s all witty because he’s a priest

But he literally is like “You know what?? I think I will-” And bam he’s got you bent over screaming his name lol

It’s a particularly hot afternoon, and in order to keep group morale up everyone has decided to make a little stop to drink some cool water. Maybe even eat some food if money will allow it. You’re pretty thankful. One more moment in that damn car and you’re sure you’d burst - it’s WAY too hot with both Vash and Wolfwood on either side of you like that.

It takes only a couple minutes for your dark haired friend to saunter up to you and sit down, throwing his arm on the seat behind you. Not close enough to touch you, but close enough that you can almost smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. He’s, thankfully, curbed the habit of smoking inside. With a sucker popped in between his lips, he lets out a small sigh.

He doesn’t like sitting still, you know that. He hates when the group decides to take breaks like this. If it were up to him, you all would be moving non-stop into the dead of night. Thankfully, it’s not. So he’ll just have to live.

“Feeling restless?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

“What do you think, angel?” he sighs again, his voice slightly horse.

You smile softly at the nickname, a bit unsure why he calls you that still. He told you once before that it all started when he saw your worried face after he was hit by a car.  He said you looked innocent, and pure. He’d find out minutes later that you definitely weren’t- yet the nickname still rolls off his tongue like it belongs there.

“Why do you call me that?” you ask, looking up at him. “You know why.” His answer is simple. He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, craning his neck. He’s too tall.

“Yeah I know why you started calling me that- but why still call me that?” you clarify rolling your eyes. He knew what you meant, he’s just being difficult. “I’m not really the most holy individual.’ You point out. He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me I know.” He mumbles, that smirk still present on his lips as he looks forward. “You’re the biggest sinner I know.” he jokes. He really walks into this one. He should know, with how much he jokes about being a priest, that this joke was always in the back of your brain. Always waiting for the right moment. Yet here he is, giving you the perfect opening. It’s almost like he’s begging for it.

“Oh? Am I a bad girl, father? Should I get on my knees and confess my sins?” You ask with a sneer. He freezes immediately. “Are you gonna punish me?” You go on, leaning in close. Man, this is a gold mine. You’d probably keep going too, if he doesn’t stand up and yank you out of your chair.

You let out a small yelp as he starts pulling you along, through the room, and into a little storage place that is probably only for employees. He throws you in, softly of course, and you stumble forward slightly. “What hell are you-” You’re interrupted by the door locking as he turns to you, shrugging the Punisher off his shoulder. He leans the giant cross against the wall, and sighs.

“You’ve got the naughtiest mouth angel, I can’t fucking stand it anymore.” He curses sauntering up next to you. “All you do is tease me, and yeah it can be pretty funny. Then you go off and say shit like that- and you have no idea what it does to me.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “And you know what? Maybe it is about time you get punished.”

A few moments later and his lips are on yours. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, open mouthed and messy. The sucker that was dangling from his lips falls against the dirty ground. You can’t help but moan into the kiss, as he devours you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat. His tongue invades your lips, and roams around every inch of your mouth. He drinks in your taste, and when he pulls away he’s got this shit eating grin that stretches across his lips.

“What do you think, angel?” He whispers, his hand sliding to the back of your head. 

Like you even have to think about this- Wolfwood is quite literally the hottest man you have ever been given the privilege to meet. Plus he’s endearing, and sweet when he wants to be. Plus that kiss was just about the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I have been pretty naughty.” Is your answer.

His grin widens, and his fingers dip into your scalp, pulling your hair so your head tilts back. You gasp, and he takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue back into your mouth. You’re not sure if it’s even really a kiss at this point, but if the noises that leave your throat are anything to go off of, you really don’t mind.

After a while he pulls away, his cheeks red. “Are you gonna make good on your promise and get on your knees, angel?” he whispers, lips dangerously close to your ear. Your cheeks instantly heat up. You just now notice something hard pressed up against your thigh, and you wonder how easy it was for him to so worked up on your teasing alone. 

You bend at the knees, and slowly fall to the ground. The floor is a bit sticky, but whatever. You have bigger things to deal with right now. And with the way he’s gripping your hair, you’re not sure if you can stop yourself from what’s to come.

He grunts as you slide your fingers into the waistline of his pants, and drag them down. His black boxers are already dripping with precum  from just the thought of what's to come. It makes your mouth water.

You press your lips against the fabric, and he growls softly. You take the hint, and slowly rid him of the undergarments. His dick flies free and you have to pinch the skin on your legs to keep from freaking out.

He’s big. Thick. Uncut and freaking beautiful.

“Like what you see, angel?” He asks, pressing your face forward. You nod, and reach a hand out, delicately tracing your fingers along the shaft. His hips jerk forward slightly, but he’s quick to let you know who’s in charge by pulling on your hair. You moan and lean forward, placing your tongue towards the middle, and licking a line up to the head. You look up at him, eyes wide, before quickly wrapping your mouth around the tip.

“God-’ He mumbles softly. “So perfect. Those lips are so Goddamn perfect angel.” He groans. You can tell he’s holding himself back, so you slide your head down and take in bit by bit slowly. He grunts and moans softly, clutching onto you for dear life. 

“Just like that angel, take it all in. You’re doing such a good job.” His praise ignites a fire in you, and you let out a soft whimper. The vibrations against his dick make the man freeze for a minute. He’s getting closer to losing control. But he wants you to take your time before he face fucks the life out of you.

“You like that angel? Like when I praise you?”

You try your best to nod, lips still wrapped around his cock. He gets the idea, and lets out a soft chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He mumbles, and his touch feels a bit softer for a second.

You continue on your journey of giving him the best blowjob of his life, licking and sucking as you see fit. One hand wrapped around the bottom of his dick, moving in unison with your head. You find the courage to finally slide it all the way into the back of your throat.  A cry escapes your mouth, followed by a gag, and tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. The moment you deepthroat him, his hands grip the back of your head, and keep you there for a few seconds. 

“Fuck- angel-” He grunts before releasing you. You slide your mouth off of him for a second. “I can’t hold myself back. You feel too good- can I fuck your pretty face angel? That okay?” He asks, his hand dropping to your chin for a second. You nod, and he smiles.

And then, he grips your hair so tight you might scream. Before you can even make a sound, his dick is in your throat again, as he slams his hips against your face at a dead pace. It’s rough, but not aggressive enough to make you uncomfortable. And the noises he makes are insanely hot.

You can’t help but choke and moan as his dick slides into your mouth. You try your best to move your tongue around it, but it’s hard to think straight. You’re almost drunk on his cock.

“Fuck- you’re being so good for me angel.” He coos. His soft voice is a pleasant counter to his rough grip on your hair. 

Finally, his movements begin to get a bit clumsier, and you can tell he’s close. “Angel, shit, I’m close.” He grunts. “You gonna swallow every last drop? Gonna let my cum clean your filthy mouth, angel?” You cry out a yes against his cock, nails digging into his thighs.

That’s all it takes for him to unload into you, letting out one final curse as his seed drips down your throat. He keeps your head pressed against the bottom of his dick until you’ve swallowed the last of it. He lets go of your head, and you fall backwards, knees starting to hurt.

After a few seconds, once his pants are back on, he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you back up softly. He lets you lean against him as you get your strength back in your legs, and kisses the top of your head softly. His arm is around your waist, his touch now soft and loving. 

“You okay, angel?” he asks, his mouth presses against the top of your head. “Of course.” You hum, and lean into his embrace.

[lexxspark]

Greened Out

Clapton Davis x reader

Overall gn!reader gender isn’t really specified here :3 lmk if I missed anything though!

A/N : hey guys thanks for reading! First fic since the damn renaissance (2015) this is also heavily inspired by Tednivisions story time about when he ate a 400 milligrams nerds rope💀

‼️mentions of the use of pot and smoking

Not proofread🙌🏻 wrote this this morning I think a ghost whispered this concept in my ear while I was sleeping.

A good night’s sleep. You’d think that’d be easier when you’re home alone but associating with Clapton Davis? Yeah idk about that. You were in the middle of drifting to sleep, wearing just some shorts and a band T-shirt you haphazardly grabbed last minute as something to sleep in, when you hear knocking at your window.

Normally this would be reason for panic, but when you look over to see a boy in a bright blue t-shirt, sunglasses dispute it being 11pm, you only sighed and walked over to the window to open it.

“Clapton what the fuck are you doing?”

“Listen, listen y/n okay? I’m-“ He paused and kindof stumbled a bit literally and over his words, but began again, “I need help ion- I don’t feel right.”

Then he gave you those eyes. Those stupid pleading puppy eyes.

You opened the window more to allow him to climb into your room. He did but almost fell flat on his face after his foot god caught in the window pane. He stumbled but fixed himself, standing straight and looking at you.

“What did you take Davis?” There was concern in your voice as you knew Clapton well and he didn’t do anything hard ever, nothing other than the occasional pot with his friends.

“Y/n im telling you all I took was an edible I don’t know what’s going on I’m like- I’m like aching every-time I touch something I can still feel it after and, and it feels like the room is spinning. It just I don’t feel right I think I was laced im telling you.” He said that last sentence while weakly pointing at the window, presumably at his friends.

“How many milligrams was it?” You asked, a very slight chuckle in your voice as you highly doubt someone had the brains to make a laced edible in the entire city of Grizzly Lake.

“Milligrams? Uhh what are those?” He furrowed his brows and squeezed his eyes shut making it look like he was really trying to remember what milligrams are.

“Oh my god.” You said under your breath as you walked over to Clapton and checked his pockets for the wrapper to his edible and to your surprise, you found a nerds rope wrapper crumpled up in his left shorts pocket.

“Wooah y/n” Clapton chuckled between his words, “Take me out before you get so handsy like that huh?” He gave you that big smile that may have made you blush, but your room was too dark to notice so you rolled your eyes instead.

“Relax Clapton, go sit down before you collapse on my floor okay?” You pointed to your bed as you started examining the wrapper.

“Yes ma’am.” Clapton said pouting and shuffling to your bed and plopping down at the foot of it, across from where you were standing.

That made you smile, the pout in his voice and the ma’am, he was such a sweetheart. However you and Clapton were on borderline opposite social circles. You only had a couple close friends where as Clapton was friends with practically everyone in town. Of course except for law enforcement. You liked him, of course you did. But everyone liked him and you just kind of figured that one of these days he’d meet someone cute and bubbly just as he is and forget about you. You were, however in your stubborn sarcasm, completely oblivious to Clapton’s shared fear. He thought that someday you would find some mature, older, more smart man to take care of you and forget all about him. So in return he followed you like a puppy everywhere, ensuring that you never would.

“Oh my fucking god Clapton.” Your eyes widened at the package.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it coke? Uh uhh what’s the one called? Oh my god Is it a Perc?” He was genuinely scared that he just took a Percocet nerds rope.

“No it’s still just weed but it’s 400 milligrams of it. Jesus Christ, Clapton it says ‘meant to be shared’ right on the package.” You pointed at it and handed it to him to read, all he did was squint you knew he didn’t even try to read anything on the package.

“Wow 400? That’s a lot. That’s prolly not a good thing is it?” He shook his head as he looked up at you, your brows furrowed with concern as u looked down at him.

“No, no it’s not.” Your eyes softened and shoulders dropped as you remembered he was still incredibly high and you were his only sober friend right now. “Have you eaten? Had water?”

“I ate an entire bag of family sized Cheeto Puffs, andd I also had a coke.” He smiled.

You tried your best to ignore his smile, “Okay well you need water, you definitely need water.” You walked over to your nightstand, Clapton’s eyes following your every move. You handed him the glass of water and he took a sip, realized how much he needed water, and proceeded to drink the entire thing.

“Jeez y/n do you have the air on blast in here? It’s like 40 degrees dude.”

“No, no you’re just cold, weed chills Clapton. Here.” You put the blanket around his shoulders and you saw him relax a bit into the blanket, still shivering though. This didn’t last however when he crawled up to where you were peacefully sleeping earlier and curled up into your pillows.

“Really?” You walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, looking at him at first with annoyance, but then it caved as soon as you saw how cute he looked in your bed, looking up at you. You sighed in defeat, looking at the calendar on your door, and then back at Clapton. Your parents were away for the weekend, some thanksgiving thing with friends so you had the entire house to yourself for a while.

Clapton’s eyes never left yours and in your head you swore they would be your downfall. “Alright, Alright fine. You can take my bed I’ll just crash on the couch.” You smiled at him, breaking eye contact as you grabbed a spare pillow and started to turn to walk out of your room.

This made Clapton’s stomach drop. “No, nono, please.” He grabbed on your wrist, softly in a pleading hold, like if he let go he’d vanish into dust. “Please stay with me. I really don’t want to be alone like this.” There was genuine concern in his voice almost anxiety.

He gave you those stupid eyes again.

Before you could even realize what was going on you got into bed with him and laid down, Clapton Davis laying in your bed agonizingly close to you. However you could still feel him shivering. He studied your face, his expression never changing as he looked at your eyes. God he loved your eyes.

You looked back at him and gave him a soft look, looked up at the ceiling, and opened your arm so he could lay on your chest. He didn’t waste a second curling up to you. You felt your heart race and Clapton’s shivering subside. Part of you wondered if he was even still shivering or if he was faking it to get you to hold him, you didn’t really care either way.

Your hand found its way to Clapton’s hair, playing with it in a soothing way to get him to sleep off the edible for two he just took. Chances are he’ll wake up high in the morning. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Holyy fuck.” Clapton melted into your arms as u played with his hair almost whining at the contact.

“You okay Davis?”

“Yes, yes m fine just that feels really fucking good Jesus Christ don’t stop.” He whispered and mumbled at the same time, you felt his hands rub on your back and bunch up your shirt as someone to grab and hold on to.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You smiled as you felt him calm, soon the shivering stopped. You and him lay in comfortable silence for a few moments until Clapton breaks it.

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?”

This caught you by surprise, all you could get out were a few “umms” before he started again, “You really are you know? You’re so smart and you’re funny. You deal with me and my stupid jokes. You’re just, you’re just you. And I really love that.”

He pulled away to look at you, meeting your eyes. You had no idea what to say to that. Even with him in your bed, you never thought that anything like that would come out of his mouth ever.

You paused, trying to come up with something to say, usually you’d have something smart or snarky to say but your entire mind blanked. All you could think about was him.

Even the 400mgs of marijuana in Clapton’s body couldn’t stop him from being cocky.

“Are you gonna let me kiss you orr?” He smiled again and you rolled your eyes opening your mouth to say something but he placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you before you could say anything else. You both sank into the kiss as it melted away years of anxiety that both of you had built up over each other.

As you pulled away his arms held you closer and he sank back into the crook of your neck leaving little peppered kissed on your collarbone.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” You finally said, smiling while returning your hand back to his hair.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes again but smiled, kissing his hair. “Can I, can I be your boyfriend? You don’t know how much I care about you and I just- I want to be here for you always. Take care of you like you always do for me.” He mumbled that last sentence, thinking about tonight when you didn’t even hesitate to open your door, or window, and take care of him when he needed you. When you stayed without hesitation when he pleaded with you not to go. He wanted to treat you and show you how much he cared.

You wanted to say yes but you remembered he was high. A sudden fear flashed over you that he would wake up in the morning and not remember anything from tonight. You faltered when you said, “Clapton you’re high, are you sure you really mean that?” Fear of this all being an elaborate prank came across you, no way this was real.

It was like he could read your mind, that’s kind of how it’s always been. “I’m serious y/n. High words are sober thoughts right? If I wasn’t high I would never have the courage to ask you, or even tell you anything I just did. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

You sighed in relief, holding him closer.

“Let me be here for you like you are for me?” He pulled away so he could look you in the eyes, have gave you that pleading look again. “Please?”

You nodded and said, “Okay Clapton.” In such a whisper you weren’t sure he heard you, either way he kissed you again, this time you holding his face and running your hand through his hair. He loved it. He loved you. And you truthfully loved him. But you both on your own decided that a kiss was enough for the night and you were going to save the I love you’s for when Clapton’s sober.

He fell back into the crook for your neck and soon the both of you fell asleep like that. Finally getting a good nights sleep with each other in your arms.

A/N: congrats on reading my first tumblr posted fic!! might write a smut alt ended to this if it does good who knowwws:3

[reigningqueenofwords]

What's Going On?

Word count: 945

Read on AO3

Part 4 of Dark Chocolate

While Sam and Steve went to the store, you went to sit out back with Bucky. Chewie happily followed, glad you were home. “So, I’ll be staying in your spare room, and the other two will take turns on the couch.” He told you, making you stare at him. “Not what you were expecting?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m still trying to wrap my head around why they kidnapped me, now you’re saying you personally want to stay at my house?” You blinked. “I’m sure your house is way nicer.” 

“Well, you’ll be here. So, I’ll be here, too. At least until all the security is installed.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his men, but he’d feel better being close to you. “Did they tell you why they took you?” 

“They said they wanted to hurt you.” You said shyly. “That they wanted to take someone you cared about. I thought it was ridiculous. There has to be someone you care about way more than me. I’m just your baker, and I hope your friend.” Your eyes went to watch Chewie play with his rope a few feet away. 

Bucky’s eyes darkened slightly. “Doll, I care about you a lot.” He promised you. “They knew what they were doing. Going after you. Didn’t end how they’d hoped, though. They didn’t know I had a guy who owed me.” He was thankful as all hell for Stark. “And I’m gonna get you a new necklace.” 

You shook your head. “You don’t need to do that.” You assured him. As much as you’d loved having that necklace from him, you didn’t expect him to get you a new one.

“Tough. I liked seeing you wear it.” He smiled. “Lemme take you on a date.” 

“What?” You gasped, looking at him. “You want to go on a date with me?!” 

He chuckled at the adorable look on your face. “Doll, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you since that first weekend.” He admitted. “The guys call you my girl. I stopped correcting them.” 

You blushed at that. You hadn’t heard that before. “Why didn’t you ask me out sooner?” You were curious. That first weekend was months ago! Nearly a year at this point. “What?” You asked when he looked more bashful than you were used to seeing him. 

“Honestly?” He asked, making you nod. “I didn’t want you to say ‘no’, and lose a really good friend. And damn good cupcakes.” He chuckled. 

“Well, you’re asking now, and I’m saying ‘yes’.” You told him softly. 

“I’ll plan something perfect.” He was very excited for this date.

That first date had been down right magical in your eyes. It was two weeks after he’d asked you out, wanting to give you time to settle from being kidnapped. He’d taken you on a romantic sunset dinner, a boat ride on the lake, and walked you to your door at the end of the night. He’d asked if he could give you a goodnight kiss, and you’d happily agreed. 

Six months later, you were staying the night at his house when there was a loud banging on the door. Jerking awake, you sat up, holding the sheet to your chest. “What was that?” You asked him as he slipped out of bed, pulling on his boxers. 

“Stay here.” He told you firmly as there was more banging. He rushed out of the room and went to the front door, just to be met with the cops. “Can I help you?” He asked, confused. As far as he knew, there was no way they’d have enough on him to arrest him. Him, and his men, were careful. 

“Sir, we have a warrant here for your arrest.” Said the man in front. 

“Babe?!” You looked down at the scene from the banister, wearing his dress shirt. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky looked up at you, hating the look on your face. “It’s okay, baby. Call Steve.” He told you. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

“Hands behind your back.” The officer told him, as another stepped in the house. 

“Ma’am, can you come down here so we can speak with you?” 

“Leave her alone. She’s got nothing to do with this.” Bucky snapped, now cuffed. “Doll, go call Steve. Don’t talk to any of these guys without my lawyer. Steve will arrange everything.” He promised. You knew literally nothing about any of his business. He didn’t tell you about it for exactly this reason. 

You were shaking as you watched him get dragged out. “I need to call Steve.” You told the officer, sniffling. “I’m just going to get my cell phone.” You told him before rushing back to the bedroom. Cell Phone in hand, you made your way downstairs. 

“Y/N/N?” He yawned as he answered. “What’s going on?” 

“Bucky was just arrested.” You managed. “He told me to call you, and not to talk to anyone until you arranged it though his lawyer.” You hiccuped, looking around as cops were all over. “Please hurry.” 

“Shit, doll. I’ll be right there.” He told you. “Sam’s at your place tonight with Chewie, right?” Sam had taken a liking to the dog, and sometimes stayed over your place to keep an eye on your house and Chewie when you were at Bucky’s. 

“Yeah, he is.” You hoped that the cops weren’t after the other guys, too! 

Steve was clearly moving around while keeping you on the phone. “Call Sam. I’ll work on getting things sorted. He can comfort you while I do all that, okay?” He said gently. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you were feeling. 

[aaaaaaaaaaaa-hey-its-jude-or-bee]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

REPOST//UPDATED POST

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Updated COD persona art // more detailed lore.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Judicial wasn’t something that appeared by himself, friends and others called him it and said the name fit him, he didn’t understand completely why he was being called such a name, nor did he understand, (he is like a judge, and goes by justice and law stuff grrr) and I guess he’s judicial, even if he was apart of his old team they called him that because he did things and acted like a judge but never really realized, he was still nice to them but if they did something wrong like damn… but Orchid surely cannot be Judicial for that long yeah, things often change, for the best, and for the worst, nothing ever stays the same.

He has to run away and hide of his past eventually of course! so, that’s what he does, he left everything he had, everything he made and built all behind, he soon changed a lot about himself and made sure he got rid of the people from his past even if it was hard and he didn’t want to, but even if he tried to get rid of some people he just simply couldn’t get rid of them, even if he was held at gun point,

But soon this man somehow ended up being in a taskforce he thought he’d never even be in, he didn’t understand how but he did soon realize why after he heard a lot about the captain and how Laswell knew him well, and he heard from the whispers around base how captain price picked up a new stray, they talked as if it was so normal, either way he was placed into work so quickly, not that he cared, a lot. It was better than orchid sitting in absolute silence, in his dark room, having old memories replaying in his head, sounds replaying, some he wanted to try and at least remember but honestly? He couldn’t.

But during one of the missions, the team and him were walking throughout the forest, the wilderness of all things for said mission yeah, but when they were walking through flowers, orchids. He started screaming and panicking, his screams were filled with terror and they didn’t know what was going on with him, with orchid, he has a heavy phobia of bugs, and there were bugs on the flowers, and on him, the others couldn’t see it of course but orchid could. And he tweaked the fuck out completely, afterwards they started calling him orchid, because all they seen was orchid, screaming and being terrified of the orchid flowers, and every single time he tried telling them it was the stupid damn bugs, they were just “Yeah totally uh-huh, yeah we hear you.” And so every time they bring it up (they even go as far as pretending there is a flying bug near him or coming at him) and it tweaks him the fuck out completely, and mind you, he’s a grown man rounding up to his late 20s to early 30s. He’s just, special. (Literally he literally had AuADHD because I say so!!! *I like giving my persona characters traits of myself*)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Obviously the art style WILL NOT STAY THE SAME BECAUSE EVERY SINGLE TIME I DRAW IT CHANGES BUT IM UPDATING THE ART SO PLS WISJEJD

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s making friends, new friends, meeting new people, he does suffer from a lot of issues and mental health stuff but he’s trying his hardest to work on himself, and well if you read the tags (OK SOME I PUT BC I NEED PEOPLE TO SEE THIS) and look at the last one you see very well what I have in store for him (who knows I might change the outcome for roach and him, but yeah it says he is a love interest, but I might plan to kill him off so Orchid continues to suffer and be alone, Makarov is involved in this a lot.)

I also tried the texts somewhat faded but not too faded so you are able to read what it says, I might make a docs abt him soon but I like drawing and talking abt lore for him when I do so, since it’s more fun but I will definitely do more stuff that includes my stardew valley farmer oc and this oc of mine (I’m getting good with the mark)

And also he was like young when he loses his spouse because it was like years ago so when he joins the 141 he’s like, in his late 20s to early 30s and this is basically getting into his backstory, also he has sessions where he has to basically talk to Laswell about Makarov and everything he knows abt him because, (listen even if he’s apart of the team he still has to because it’s Makarov? It’d be weird to hold out information of knowing him) but he still knew Makarov nonetheless, having him talk and tell them stuff abt Makarov, but not almost everything, some of it is just too personal for him to share with the team.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

@cupiddoves //reposting(updating post again) so my apologies for doing the @ 🫶🏼‼️‼️//

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[kaileywritesstuff]

Prompt #9: Put two people who hate each other in an elevator together for twelve hours. What happens? (Written February 26, 2023)

“God damn it!” Emily screamed, banging her fists against the elevator wall. “Of course I’d be stuck in this fucking elevator with you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sadie asked from the opposite side of the elevator. 

“It means, I cannot stand you and I have no fucking clue when we’ll be getting out of this metal trap.” Emily slid to the floor and hid her face in her hands.

“Do you think I’m happy about this? I am going to miss an important meeting if we’re stuck here much longer. But, since we are stuck together, the least you can do is stop acting like this is the end of the world.”

Emily slowly looked up at her from behind her dark curtain of hair. “I’m just going to put my earbuds in, close my eyes, and pretend that I’m not having to spend my time stuck in this cage with the person I hate the most at the moment.”

Sadie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fine. I’d rather sit in silence anyway.”

*Three Hours Later*

Emily’s earbuds died, her phone only had ten percent battery left and she had no rational explanation for what she was going to do next.

“Sadie, why did you do it?”

Sadie looked up from her book. “Why did I do what, exactly?”

“Why did you sleep with Patrick? You knew damn well that he was my fiancé and you slept with him anyway.”

Sadie carefully placed a folded piece of paper into her book and set in on the floor beside her.

  “First of all, Patrick told me that you both had broken up. By the time I found out that you were still in the picture, I told him that we had to end things. Of course, it was too late at that point because you literally walked in right after that happened.”

Emily pushed her hair behind her ears and glowered at the red head in front of her. “I have the hardest time believing that. You know, considering the fact that you were messaging Patrick about how the sex was so much better knowing that you were sleeping with my fiancé! You actually mentioned me a lot.”

“You are really reading way too far into all of it. I only hooked up with Patrick a few times. If I’m being entirely honest with you right now, I think you should be thanking me.” Sadie sat up a little straighter and smirked. 

“I should be thanking you?! For what? Ruining my relationship?” Emily leaned forward, feigning curiosity.

“If Patrick was so willing to sleep with me, he could have been sleeping with anyone else. He was not the right person for you.” Sadie relaxed against the wall, as though she had made her point loud and clear.

Emily could feel the heat of her anger rise up in her chest. What gave Sadie the right to determine whether Patrick would have cheated no matter what?

She slumped back against the cold metal wall and closed her eyes. Maybe sleeping through this nightmare would make it end sooner.

*Six Hours Later*

“Hey, Emily,” Sadie nudged Emily awake.”The front desk just called. The fire department will be here soon. Apparently, they forgot about us. That, or we are very low on their priority list. Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

Emily rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Thanks.” She cleared the fog from her mind and looked directly into Sadie’s emerald eyes. “Can you be completely honest with me about something?”

Sadie pondered it for a moment, a deep v forming between her eyebrows. “Sure, I suppose I could spare some complete and unadulterated honesty.”

Emily took a deep breath and looked down at her hands as though they may hold the weight of her question. “Did you do it to hurt me? I thought we were friends and then I found out that you were hooking up with Pat-” 

Sadie stopped her mid-sentence by placing her hands on Emily’s shoulders and looking deeply into her eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I honestly didn’t even want to hook up with Patrick the two times that we did. I wanted to get closer to you and I thought the best way to do that was to get to know you through the person who was supposed to love you. Then I let him do what he wanted to do and I was going to tell you sooner but then you figured it out. What you never seemed to figure out was why it mattered to me at all… 

“I have no good excuse for sleeping with Patrick besides to prove to you that he was not worthy of your love and attention.”

Emily looked at her as though she were nuts. “So, you slept with Patrick to prove that he was somehow worse than I thought he was? But didn’t that tell me the exact same thing about you?”

The corners of Sadie’s mouth turned down into a soft frown. “I guess you’re right. I fucked up. I know that you’ll never even begin to forgive me and I think I can accept that. But, I needed you to know why I did it. I started to fall in love with you and knew that you could do so much better than Patrick.” She let go of Emily’s shoulders and let her body slump against the wall. 

Emily stared at her incredulously. “I still don’t think I understand. You say you love me and then decide the best way to show me that is to hurt and betray me the same way that the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with hurt and betrayed me? You would have been better off setting him up with someone else and then showing me the evidence and being my shoulder to cry on! I have hated you for months! I have spent so much of my free time wondering how you could have done this to me! You’re kind of an idiot, you know that right?” A gentle chuckle escaped her lips.

Sadie looked up at her, confusion and sadness filling her teary eyes. “It’s not kind to laugh at someone while they’re down.Not that I deserve even an ounce of your kindness.”

Emily closed the space between them and gently placed her hand on her knee. “I’m an idiot, too. I still don’t understand your reasoning and you hurt me. We’ll have to work on building trust and friendship again but I’m willing to give it a shot. No one is perfect and if you are willing to show me that you’re not a terrible cheater and a liar then maybe one day we can begin a romantic relationship. Until then, friends?”

A small smile formed at the edges of Sadie’s soft, pink lips. “I think I can do that. I promise that you won’t regret giving me a second chance. I will just communicate with you about my stupid thoughts and feelings and maybe we can avoid another disastrous event.”

Suddenly a loud banging noise interrupted the moment. “Ladies? Are you alright in there?”

“Yeah, we’re fine!” They answered in unison.

“Sorry it took us so long to arrive! We should have ya’ll out in just a few moments. Stay clear of the doors!”

The two women stood and stepped to the back of the elevator car. Emily reached down and grabbed Sadie’s dainty hand and intertwined their fingers, ready for a new beginning.

[luv-u-itz-aster]

Dark... Just How I Like It

The first day of school, if you have anxiety, is not a happy day. Waking up at 5 am is even harder… Taking my body to the kitchen, I asked my mother what she was going to pack for lunch, "Since it's your first day I packed ramen for you…do not skip lunch or else you will get a smack on your head when you come back home."

Mama is always the one to smack me if my lunch is left unfinished. I dragged myself to the washroom and brushed my teeth. I don't tend to shower in the morning since well I'll just get a fever. Getting dressed is not fun… I just want to lie in my bed and snooze off…its just three feet away from me damn it! No Aura fucking get a hold of yourself, you are not going back to sleep.

5:30 AM. I'm standing at the bus station. Well, I don't know who my classmates are going to be, or how this school year is going to be. After spending about 2 years inside my home. "The bus is here" A commoner shouted. I boarded the bus and what I saw told me that this year's school is going to be either great or worse than my whole damn life.

9th graders occupied the front seats and the 6th to 8th graders got the backseat.

I ran to a single seat and settled in. My social anxiety was fucking with my head. As we approached school by 6 AM. "It's Huge" I murmured to myself little did I know someone had heard me "I know right- Oh well nice to meet you I'm Ridhi 7F" "Nice to meet you too Aura here 7B" "Let's go to class together! We're on the same floor aren't we?"

She dragged me to the staircases and we took the flight of stairs to the first floor. We parted ways and I entered the classroom.

It was dark and quiet…just as I liked my room. I went straight to the third bench and sat down. I didn't bother to switch on the lights. I only switched on the fans. Little did I know I would fall asleep.

I woke up to children screaming and shouting. That was when I saw him - Yusra. He was so cute and looked so sweet. I could just go and become friends with him but I chose NOT to.

The day went pretty well. I met the girls and we became friends quickly.

Now comes the hard part…we just got dismissed and now we have to wait for about an hour until the bus comes up…

I was looking around when my eyes fell on Yusra, standing on the other side of the barricade dividing the courtyard from the canteen, waiting for his parents to pick him up.

I was checking him out literally…How did that boy I knew from grade three, change to the boy standing in front of me?

Suddenly someone tapped on my shoulder and I expected it to be Ridhi. But when I turned around a slightly taller girl with tremendous curly hair greeted me. "Hey aren't you that kid who was quiet? By the way! I'm Tanushri." Shit, she was my senior what the hell was I going to say to her…

Well since I'm going to be here for six more years…there is nothing wrong with showing my true colors…"I'm not quite naturally just a little bit nervous actually!"

"Nothing to be nervous kid we are not going to judge you! And you seem very fucking cool" "Re-really?" "Yea…Since it's your first day any wish kid we are going to fulfill it" "Can I be friends with you and the ninth graders and sit with you…Cuz I kinda feel lonely in the bus…" "you're asking me that kid?! We are already friends with you! Wanna take the last seat with us!?" "Sure"

The time came our bus was announced and we boarded it. Tanushri took me to the last seat and guided me where to sit.

We started to talk about what high school or rather a middle school life is actually like.

Soon ten minutes before her stop, she told me… "You're cool kid, don't worry about your nervousness 'cause I know you are going to be just fine…The school needs more on-point students like you…"

Well, the first day wasn't that bad either………………

[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

[dmwrites]

(kind of a prequel to this fic) 

xB paused dead in his tracks.

It was a quiet night in the huge cave he called his home, or as quiet as the slime and iron farms could be, anyway. He was weeding the mossy floor, an all-too common pastime, but a different noise within the usual ones had caught his attention. The gentle thud of something being set down on stone.

He remained still, eyes on the ground, listening hard. He flipped to his bow in his inventory, knowing whoever was here could see it- it wasn’t exactly a small weapon. And then, the all-too distinct sound of a disk being placed into a music box. A familiar creepy song began to play, and xB snorted.

“Jeez, Pearl, you had me frightened for a minute there.”

Pearl giggled. xB turned around to look at her, bow fitted with an arrow but pointed at the ground. She was stood on a small outcropping in one of the natural pillars in the cave, dressed in a hoodie and shorts, nodding along to the creepy music.

“What’s up, xB?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re in my home, after all.” xB nodded in time to the music. This standoff was familiar to both of them- Pearl had done a similar thing to him the night of April fools- played this creepy music, standing in the dark, watching him. He’d done a little dance, and she’d laughed through her complaint that he was supposed to be scared. He wasn’t scared.

“They sent me to subdue you.” Pearl said quite quietly. The music stopped, she’d taken the disk out, and the silence that sentence had brought on felt dangerous.

“Subdue me?” xB kept his voice light, calm, controlled. “I’m very subdued, what do you mean?” He wished he could feign a more casual stance, but he knew Pearl was eagle-eyed, so he let his body tighten up, eyes locked on Pearl’s. Ready for whatever came next

“You’re too clever to be let free while we talk to you. So, this is what’s going to happen.” Pearl jumped down from her perch and landed several blocks away. She was taller then him still. Damn it. “You’re going to give me all of your weapons. All of them. And you’re going to sit down and be tied to a chair and wait for the rest of the soup group to come so we can all chat.”

“Literally no.” xB snorted. “I’m not gonna do that, I’m not rolling over for you or Gem or Impulse. Like, come on now. You can’t have thought I would just give up, Pearl.”

Pearl took out her sword. “You feeling lucky, xB?” She was grinning, more like bearing her teeth at him. Like a wild dog or something.

xB pulled back the bow string so the arrow was pointed right at Pearl’s face. “I’d hate to kill you, Pearl. So I’ll just give you a little warning. You may have your demanding words and your reputation, but I have a very, very good aim.”

The cave went quiet again as the two stared each other down. xB wondered if she knew how scary she was now. If she knew that her new reputation proceeded her like a funeral march.

“Funny.” xB said after a few moments.

“What’s funny?”

“We’re hunters, you and I.”

Pearl adjusted the grip on her sword, but said nothing.

“You’re a lot more badass when you’ve got friends on your side, though. Without people to love you or pseudo-love you, you’re not much of a fighter at all.” xB said.

Pearl looked rather taken aback, eyes wide. It was no secret that the Life Games were televised, but many hermits didn’t like to watch them, too unnerving for their taste. But xB watched it. xB knew who Pearl was, knew that if he bent low enough he’d rattle her.

He didn’t dare make the next move, and Pearl seemed too stunned to speak. Perhaps it had been too much. But xB couldn’t lie- he was scared of the victor standing in front of him.

They remained in stand-off until Gem arrived to tie him to a chair. xB never took his eyes off of Pearl, whether in apology or wariness, he wasn’t sure.

[mylittlesyn]

Demon!Toji x You

𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪, 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

CW: Dubcon, noncon creampie, squirting, literal demon fucking, belly bulge, cervix fucking, pussyjob

Premise: You were a semi-successful actress who was dating someone who turned out to be a married man. The wife found out and you were blacklisted. Desperate times call for desperate measure, and you find yourself calling upon a demon to try to get your chance at fame, but it seems it might cost you a fortune.

Long Awaited Part 2

Masterlist

Event Masterlist

You swallowed hard and lit the last candle needed to complete the ritual. The stupid ritual. You weren’t even sure if it would work. Knowing your shit luck, you know it wouldn’t… But you were desperate. Rent was past due, you had nowhere else to go, no usable skills, the only life you knew was acting. You were good. Damned good. But you slept with one wrong man who turned out to be married, his wife found out, and you were blacklisted from anyone who mattered. You just needed one shot. One shot to redeem yourself. To get the claim to fame you so diligently worked for. So here you were, performing this ritual to summon the demon who was supposed to grant you your wish. You spoke the words your friend wrote on the piece of paper and wind swirled around you, lifting your hair before forming a little whirlwind in front of you that turn off all the candles that you had just turned on. In the flash of an eye, a tall figure stood before you. You would swear he’s a giant as you were left looking at the top of his abdomen, his body shirtless, only wearing black pants. His muscles were glistening under the moonlight that crept into the cleared out studio apartment, and when you tilted your head up you could see his smirk and his horns… 

“Why have I been summoned? I was in the middle of things that I’d like to get back to.” He grumbled while moving back to sit on the couch. With a flick of his wrist, he lit all the candles and with you in the center, finally lit, he looked you up and down. 

“I need an opportunity… I was wronged… I need an audition for a part.” You tried your best to speak up, but your voice was far too shaky to exert any power. 

“Fame…” He hummed with a devilish grin that sent a chill down your spine as he switched his eyes from your lips, to your chest, to your hips. “It’s always fame or fortune. Alright.” He looked dead into your eyes with his grin fading, the serious look somehow more chilling. “I’ll give you what you want. But in exchange…” Your stomach sank as you watched the smirk form back on his scarred mouth. 

“What do you want?” You asked, finally growing some courage. 

“I want you, to hump my thigh, and squirt for me.” He huffed a dark chuckle, watching as your eyes widened with your gaze falling to the floor. “Oh don’t act all coy now… You’ve been lusting after my body since I first arrived. I can smell it on you.” Your head jolted up, eyes practically bulging out of your head as you processed what he just said, squeezing your thighs together as if it would somehow make it better than worse. “Just a little demon trick.” He tapped his horns and watched the blood drain from your face. You were frozen in place. This was what you had to do to make it. He was so big his hand could probably wrap around your entire thick thigh. With a gulp, you took a step closer, only to have his sharp, pointed tail graze your skin, just at the hem of your pants. “I’m waiting, meek little girl.” He teased with the sharp pointed end scratching your hip that was exposed by your crop top. His tail went to his tongue where he licked your blood off of the tip. Your shaky hands went to undo your pants, slowly wriggling them down your hips. After sliding off your panties, his rough hands grabbed onto your hips, forcing you to straddle him with your knees planted around one of his thighs. Losing your footing, you found your face buried in his neck, and although you couldn’t place the scent… It was alluring. Everything about him was alluring, really. From his piercing green eyes, his touseled black hair, the sexy scar on his lips… The sheer size of him… It felt like he was built to be attractive… Attractive to you. “Why don’t you get started, fuck doll?” He grabbed onto your chin to force you to look at him. 

“I… I-I can’t.” You stuttered with your heart beating ten miles a minute as he clicked his tongue. 

“Fuck this.” He scowled as he started to lift you off of him by your hips. 

“Wait!” You squeaked to have him place you back down on his thigh. 

“I can only squirt through penetration.” You spoke all in one breath with your eyes squeezed shut to hear his dark chuckle ringing in your ears. You felt his hands leave your body to hear the sound of pants unzipping. 

“Well why didn’t you say so?” He teased with a shit-eating grin that had your stomach turned in knots when you finally opened your eyes again. His hands traced up your thighs as your eyes wandered around his body, admiring the ripples of his muscles before your eyes began to bulge. A sick sadistic chuckle ran in your ears as you stared at his girth. It was thicker and longer than any that you had ever seen, and you were certain there was no way it could fit. “Don’t worry… You can take your time prepping yourself to make it fit.” He whispered into your ear before leaning back into the couch, his arms extended over the top of the backrest, with that same smug grin. With a large gulp, you leaned closer into him, and readjusted yourself to straddle at his hips. His naked length now pressed between his stomach and your heat, you started to rub yourself on it, letting it dip between your folds. Your slick coated his length as you pressed your hands to his chest, letting out a few whimpers. “Come on… Let me hear you my fuck doll.” 

“Demon Lord!” You whined as you started to move your hips a bit faster before you felt his chest rumble in satisfaction. 

“I like the use of lord.” His hand fisted your hair, tugging it back so he could look at your face. The pointed tail lightly grazed along your exposed stomach before moving up and cutting the fabric of your crop top. The tail continued its way upward, tracing along your neck before almost caressing your cheek. His eyes stared at your lips seemingly locked in place as you continued to move your hips, nearly feeling yourself there as your hands gripped onto his shoulders. “Say it again.” He demanded.

“Demon Lord!” You cried out as you came, your walls squeezing around nothing while you hurriedly tried to reach down at his length. Your hand couldn’t make it around his girth, but yet you lifted your hips and pressed it to your entrance. His mouth latched onto your neck, and you could swear you heard him let out a muffled groan as you added weight, trying to push him into you. Your walls still fluttered and you could feel the tip stretching you almost painfully so. Gripping tighter onto his shoulders, you gritted your teeth, feeling both pain from his length and the pleasure from him sucking on your neck. The tip finally was in and you let yourself still for a moment as his lips unlatched. You let your forehead rest on his shoulder breathing in his musky scent that had a faint wooden air to it. 

“You’re doing well fuck doll.” He hummed while moving his hands onto your hips. “Why don’t we sink you further onto my cock.” He gripped tightly and moved your hips lower with you crying out in pain. You felt like you were being split in two with tears pricking at your eyes, trying to keep still as you felt his tip pressing at your cervix. 

“Please.” You begged.

“Don’t worry… It’s all up to you now.” He laid back into the couch, angling his hips a bit before placing his arms onto the back rest again. After a deep breath, you slowly started moving, pain still prominent, but mixed with it was pleasure as his girth rubbed that sweet spot within you. Your hands were lightly placed on his shoulders now, slowly moving them along his large pecs that you admired. The pace was slow, trying your best to let the pain within you subside so you could complete the request. His tail tilted your head upwards and your eyes both met. “I’m going to need you to pick up the pace fuck doll, there are others who want to summon me.” You nodded hesitantly, picking up the pace and pushing through the pain, feeling the pleasure that came along with it. Soon enough the pain subsided and pleasure started to consume you. Everything felt hazy and blurry. It was like you were intoxicated, only being able to feel the pleasure that this stretching girth gave you. Your pace grew quicker still, but it wasn’t enough. You needed to pull out more, to really drop down on his length, feel it push into you. Your hands traced up from his shoulders, with you watching his piercing green eyes. “That’s it fuck doll… Give into me… Feel the lust take over.” He grunted with your hands on his cheeks. Your hands continued their journey as you moved up, gripping your hands tightly around his horns. Pulling yourself up, you used his horns, stimulating yourself further. “Fuck…” He muttered under his breath with a groan as you started to move faster and more rhythmically. You clenched your walls around him as you moved, and his hands flew to your waist, gripping tightly as you nuzzled your face into him. With new found confidence as he muttered more curses, you licked up his neck. 

“You like that?” You asked with a smirk pressed to his cheek as you continued to pull on his horns. His groan was all you needed to know how good you were making him feel. You were making a literal demon feel good. Nibbling on his ear, you felt your muscles tighten as your pace quickened further. Letting go of his horns, you placed your palms on his thighs behind you, still keeping a decent pace. 

“Fuck…” He groaned again as he smoothed a hand over your stomach, and when you looked to his hand, you could see his girth bulging out from within you. He pressed his hand against the bulge and it pushed at your sweet spot within you. As you keened you desperately rode him, trying to reach your high. He left his hand pressed to your stomach, and it was just what you needed to push you over the edge. Liquid covered his abdomen, spewing out of you as your breasts bounced with him staring. You started to slow your pace as you felt yourself coming down from your high, only to have him grip onto your hips. “Shit.” He mumbled before he started to roughly lift you and start ramming himself into you. You felt so dizzy, utterly consumed by lust as you furrowed your brows in confusion. His grip on you was so rough, and his length was pushing into your womb with each jerk of his hips. Each one was making your walls flutter, more liquid gushing out of you until you felt it. Hot ropes shot into you with his girth twitching as his hips started to sputter. A choked groan left his lips as he bottomed out into me, where I felt him in my throat. 

“Did you just?!” Your eyes widened as you looked down where you both met. He gripped your chin and leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Relax… If you bear my child, I’ll make you my queen.” He shed a wide toothy grin, his tail caressing your cheek. You breathed in heavily through your nose, but a part deep within you wished it all to be true. “I’ll grant what you want, and I’ll make sure it’s a big part… You’ve entertained me, my doll.” His grin faded to a smirk as he lifted you off of him. You readjusted yourself so that you were now kneeling on the couch with his seed dripping down your thighs as you whimpered from the empty feeling. The sound of a zipper rang in your ears as you watched him walk over to the circle on the floor. “Feel free to call upon me again, pretty thing…” He spun around to flash you a cocky toothy grin. “And come sit on my lap again when you die.” He winked before disappearing, the candles all turning off at once with the studio apartment growing cold.

Taglist: @toshibaby​ @tojishugetiddies​

[sluttywonwoo]

desperate || c.sc x reader

Summary: the first time seungcheol fucks you raw (sponsored by irresponsible decisions)

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: oral (m receiving), choking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (bathroom), creampies

“Baby,” Seungcheol groaned against your neck in an attempt to get your attention, but if you’d heard him you were choosing to ignore him as you continued to grind down onto his lap with your head buried in his shoulder. “Baby,” he tried again, “I don’t have a condom.”

He was still desperately rifling through his wallet with one hand and digging through the pockets in his jeans with the other in the hollow hope that maybe he’d find one.

He always carried condoms with him, he had since before you had started dating. How the hell was he missing one now- then it dawned on him. Last month, at that bar back in London when you had been wearing nothing under your tight black skirt and he just had to have you… god damn it, Cheol, he thought to himself. He had used the last one then, when he fucked you in the bathroom that night. But now you were the needy one and he couldn’t even take the edge off for you.

Despite the circumstances at hand, Seungcheol’s body was reacting accordingly to your actions. His cock was straining against his jeans and he was almost positive you could feel his erection against your thigh. And if your moans were any indication, he was right.

He sighed into your shoulder, and used his hands to still your hips. Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout momentarily before you began pressing languid kisses to his neck, sucking hickeys right underneath his jaw.

“Y/n, I-I don’t have a condom,” Seungcheol stuttered out again and pushed on your shoulders to make sure you heard him this time.

“I don’t care,” you whined, slumping forward onto your boyfriend in defeat. “I want you so bad.”

“I know, darling,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to ignore the way your hips were still rocking instinctively on top of his.

If you were at home it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Seungcheol could just pop out to the shops and be back within the hour with enough condoms to go as many rounds as you wanted. But you were all the way in Monaco at the F1 Grand Prix- it wasn’t like you could just come and go as you pleased, once your ticket was scanned at the beginning of the day you were stuck there because the no re-entry policy was strictly enforced at all exits. You’d learned that the hard way on the first day.

When asked later, your friends would claim not to know where you and Seungcheol had run off to. But everyone knew. You were a bit infamous for bathroom quickies, hence that night at the bar last month, and you had been before Cheol was in the picture. Bars, restaurants, movie theaters, clubs, and department stores were all fair game to you. Today was no different. Seungcheol was sitting on the counter with his back pressed against the mirror in one of the racetrack’s tiny, one-person facilities and you were straddling his lap.

Everything had been going routinely when Seungcheol broke the news and you felt your heart (or rather, your pussy) shatter into a million pieces. He just looked so goddamn good in that pink shirt with his hair slicked back like that… fuck. And the way he’d been acting this weekend, so casually confident with his friends and the racers, it brought out something primal in you.

“You want my fingers?” Seungcheol offered, holding up the middle and ring fingers on his left hand.

You shook your head. “Just want you.”

He chuckled lightly and brushed your hair out of your eyes. You knew you were being a brat, but you were too desperate to care.

“I know, but I already told you-”

“I don’t care that you don’t have a condom,” you sighed. “Just go without.”

Seungcheol blinked at you in surprise. “Wha- are you sure?”

In all the time that you had been dating, you and Seungcheol had never had sex without protection. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, you were on the pill, but you had always been overly cautious and you and Seungcheol had never really… talked about it before.

“Y/n?” You had fallen silent.

“Hm?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You could only nod at first before you could verbalize.

“I need to hear you say it,” he murmured, voice an octave lower than it had been a second ago.

“I’m sure,” you managed, “please, Cheol.”

He smirked, biting his lip. “Of course, baby.”

You pushed yourself off of him and watched as he unfastened his belt. Your mouth watered as he pulled at the button and zipper on his jeans and you thought for a brief moment about how pathetic you were.

But as soon as Seuncheol had freed himself from his pants you found yourself not caring anymore. The humiliation burning in your cheeks melted back into want and you felt the temperature in your whole body rise a degree or two.

Seungcheol pushed his jeans down to where they sat bunched around his thighs and looked at you expectantly.

“Ready, angel?” he asked, dark eyes giving you a onceover.

It wasn’t often that you were the one fully clothed and Seungcheol was the one exposed to you, but on the rare occasion it did happen you liked to take advantage of it.

“Wait, can I?” Your gaze fell to his lap and he cursed.

“Always.”

You smiled and licked your lips as you bent over to take him into your mouth. Seungcheol wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but his cock was still able to hit the back of your throat, which you loved. You suppressed your gag reflex as best you could while you sucked him off, feeling the arousal simmering in your stomach multiply tenfold just because of how full your mouth was. He brought a fist to his lips and bit down on his hand to stifle his moans, tangling his other hand in your hair.

He twirled your hair around his fingers into a makeshift ponytail and tugged gently. You moaned around his cock and took him even deeper so that the tip of your nose was pressed against his pelvis.

“God, y/n,” Seungcheol groaned, bucking his hips upwards into your mouth. “Sorry,” he grunted.

“S’okay,” you said with a smile, still somehow managing to keep your pace.

“So desperate for my cock, you’d take it any way you can get it, huh?”

You whined in response and nodded your head. You heard him laugh, then choke when you pulled off of him. He scowled at you as you licked a stripe from the base of his cock, along the vein, to the head, before taking him fully in your mouth again, making him throw his head back in pleasure.

“Stop, stop, I’m close,” he warned and pulled you off his cock by your hair.

If you weren’t so intent on having him inside you you would’ve finished him off there. He looked so hot like that- jaw clenched with restraint, stomach taught and firm, even under his shirt. And the way he looked down at you while you sucked his dick, fuck.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and leaned in to kiss your boyfriend on the lips. He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. The taste of champagne lingered on his lips.

“C’mon, baby,” Seungcheol grunted and motioned for you to climb on top of him.

You did just that and hiked your skirt higher up on your thighs, pushing your panties to the side so that he could have easy access to you.

You reached for him and used your knees to brace yourself on the counter before he held out a hand to stop you.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly, “let me taste you first.”

You watched as reached a hand under your skirt and used two of his fingers to collect your arousal before bringing them to his lips and sucking it off. When he was satisfied with his work he offered the same two fingers to you.

“Open,” he instructed.

You sucked his fingers into your mouth as he’d asked and moaned around them, which might have been a little over the top, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Seungcheol retracted his fingers after a couple seconds and kissed you again, cupping your face with both of his hands. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you whimpered. You could taste yourselves on each other’s lips, but as you continued to make out they became indiscernible, a mix of both of you. All you knew was that you couldn’t get enough.

Seungcheol struggled to pop the first few buttons on your shirt, but eventually got the hang of it, and unbuttoned the rest with ease, exposing your chest to the cold air.

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of your tits,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder lightly. “Cheol, stop teasing me,” you begged.

Your entire body ached. You were clenching around nothing at this point and it was torture. You needed something inside of you right that minute and if Seungcheol wouldn’t give it to you your own fingers would have to suffice.

“I’m not teasing you,” he insisted earnestly.

“Then fuck me already!”

He smirked for what felt like the millionth time and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re going to have to keep your voice down if you don’t want us to get caught, darling. Do you think you can do that?”

You nodded fervently, knowing it was a boldfaced lie. Seungcheol knew it too- you had literally just been yelling at him to fuck you seconds earlier, but you were already this far and he’d made you wait so long already.

“C’mere,” he said lowly and put a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer. “Spit,” he commanded and held out his hand for you. You spat into his palm and watched as he used his hand to pump his cock a couple of times, ensuring that it was lubricated enough for you to take comfortably.

He then lined himself up with you and held back a groan as you sank down onto his cock. You sighed in relief at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You stayed there like that for a minute or so, not moving, just enjoying how full you felt.

Seungchel always felt good inside of you, but like this… without discomfort of the condom, without the resistance of the rubber or the texture of the latex, without anything in between you… it was indescribable. You could feel every vein, every curve of Cheol’s cock. You could feel his pulse in your pussy and the sensation was enough to make you forget how to speak.

“G-god,” you gasped.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Seungcheol muttered through clenched teeth.

“Feels so good,” you mumbled.

Seungcheol managed a smile and brushed your hair out of your face. His smile faltered when you began to ride him without warning and he choked out your name along with a string of profanities.

You rocked your hips forward to meet Cheol’s over and over again, moaning quietly every time the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. It wasn’t long before Seungcheol was doing most of the work, slamming into you like his life depended on it. It was actually impressive, how hard he was fucking you in the position he was in. He was sitting upright with all of your weight on top of him and was still railing you like it was nothing.

“Is this what you wanted?” Seungcheol asked, voice low and gravelly. “For me to fuck you like a slut?” You could only nod. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Are you such a desperate fucking cockslut that you couldn’t wait a few more hours like a good girl?”

“Yes!” you cried.

Seungcheol brought a hand to your throat and wrapped his fingers around it, rubbing his thumb along your pulsepoint. He squeezed lightly, smiling darkly when your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” he asked, knowing you were close.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Do you think you can be quiet?”

“Yes. Please, Cheol-”

“Please what?”

“Please can I cum? I-I need to cum, fuck!”

You fell over the edge before your boyfriend could respond, not even allowing him the chance to get a word in before your entire body was overcome by waves of pleasure. Your vision went white as you rode out your orgasm and Seungcheol held onto you tightly the whole time, whispering praises in your ear as you came down even though you knew you were in for it later.

Your thighs were still trembling when the aftershocks had finally subsided and you gave Seungcheol a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he assured you. “I made you wait long enough.”

“You were teasing me! I knew it!”

He kissed you chastely on the lips and winked. “Couldn’t resist. You’re so fucking hot when you’re desperate.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did.”

“And if I remember correctly, you haven’t come yet. I could always leave you hanging-”

“No! No, I’m sorry,” he apologized hastily.

You laughed and pushed his curls out of his face as you began to ride him again, ignoring your own arousal still burning in your stomach. Seungcheol cursed, letting you know that he was right there on the edge.

“Where do you want me to cum? Your mouth? Your chest?” You didn’t answer and leaned down to kiss his neck instead. “Baby, I can’t,” he rasped, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

“I want you to,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I want you to cum inside me, Cheol. Want you to fill me up-” your pleas were cut off with a moan as Seungcheol came and you felt him tense underneath you as spurt after spurt of cum filled your cunt. If you thought you had felt full before-

You threw your head back at the feeling and helped your boyfriend ride out his high. It wasn’t enough to make you cum a second time, but the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he clenched his jaw and bit his lip as he came… it certainly… sparked something within you.

Seungcheol was out of breath by the time he could open his eyes again and when he did he smiled at you from underneath messy hair and hooded eyelids, completely blissed out. He pulled out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the counter.

He turned around and snatched a few paper towels from the dispenser on the opposite wall and handed half the stack to you while he used the other half to wipe down the counter.

“What a gentleman,” you said sarcastically as you used the towels to clean yourself off. You knew when you stood up there would likely be more dripping down your legs, and that was if you could stand, but you would have to cross that bridge when you got to it.

“And they say romance is dead,” he quipped back cheekily, holding his hand out for your half of the used paper towels.

“Can’t imagine why.”

You watched from the counter as he threw them away and washed his hands. He pulled a couple more paper towels from the dispenser and wet them in the sink before making his way back over to you and just tossing them between your open legs.

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[elysianslove]

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been. 

well, look at you now. 

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more. 

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?” 

“no, i—“ 

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation. 

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling. 

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?” 

had he not— heard you? 

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?” 

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.” 

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.” 

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.” 

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties. 

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm. 

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak. 

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.” 

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.” 

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish. 

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having. 

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs. 

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.” 

he’s going to kill you. 

he’s going to fucking kill you. 

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles. 

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now. 

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way. 

how is he fitting? 

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper. 

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?”  you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried. 

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder. 

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day. 

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you. 

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.” 

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily. 

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something— different. 

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours. 

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears. 

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry. 

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle. 

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking. 

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.” 

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you. 

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away. 

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?” 

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you. 

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?” 

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on? 

he doesn’t know. 

he settles for, “good weird.” 

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?” 

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off. 

“that’s so mean!” 

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead. 

worked in your favor didn’t it? 

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!! 

[vendettaparker]

Reckless [T.H]

Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming 

a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you. 

The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.

There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much. 

When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone. 

Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport. 

You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.” 

“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”

You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”

“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.” 

“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats. 

“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.

You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him. 

“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up. 

Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different. 

“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”

You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.

“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked. 

Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.

“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.” 

“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.” 

“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone. 

“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.

“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.” 

Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.” 

Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.” 

Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”

“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”

Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.” 

Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.” 

Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”

“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”

“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop. 

“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.” 

Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.

“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”

“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”

“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”

“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”

“That’s dumb.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone. 

“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room. 

“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“

“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.” 

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”

“I don’t know, what does she like?”

“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought. 

“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?” 

Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!” 

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”

Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping. 

“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“

“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.” 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.” 

“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”

“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?” 

Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago?”

Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.” 

“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.” 

Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years. 

The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs. 

However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around. 

Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning. 

“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair. 

Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?” 

“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested. 

“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.” 

Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next. 

The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself. 

“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison. 

“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.

“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.

“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.” 

“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?” 

“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged. 

“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”

“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”

“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?” 

“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”

“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”

You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons. 

“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar. 

“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!” 

The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears. 

“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub. 

“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.” 

“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?” 

Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body. 

You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.

“Harry I—” Tom tried.

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.” 

Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home. 

Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.” 

Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.” 

“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.” 

“Okay, okay, now tell me.”

“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.” 

“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys. 

Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine, 

Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her. 

Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half… 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there. 

“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”

The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry. 

“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes. 

“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.” 

“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway. 

“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?” 

Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—” 

“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”

“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”

You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.” 

“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.

“Help me understand.” He begged.

You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.

“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.” 

The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.” 

You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”

“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.” 

“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.

“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”

Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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