#oh yeah and not to mention sometimes it would “”work“” and the screen would shut off for eternity as it “”“”“”tries“”“”“” to load the input

[izeas-null]

for absolutely no fucking reason

my monitor today randomly decided to absolutely reject input

i tried multiple cords

multiple devices

multiple ports

only one decided to work at all BUT EVERY FUCKING 10 MINUTES IT WOULD CHANGE

I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FUCKING FIX THIS THING FOR ALMOST 2 HOURS NOW NOTHING EVER WORKS UNLESS IT JUST DECIDES HOW IS IT THIS BROKEN

ive just now got it to read all 3 ports and all 4 devices but i still had to repeatedly jam everything in and out and im scared to even stand up lest it piss itself all over my desk again because literally me standing up is a fucking factor in this shit show

fuck you acer

[princessbrunette]

reader who sometimes likes to point out really obvious stuff, but she’s always so proud of herself that the boys just don’t have the heart to bring it up. Like her & rafe could be sitting on the couch watching discovery channel, & something that is obviously a baby cheetah will come into the screen & she’ll be like “oh! that’s a cheetah, it’s only a baby though, it still needs to grow into a big cheetah.” or she could be with johnbee & there’s clearly something wrong with the boat, & she’ll go “The boats not starting up.” with all seriousness, & he’ll just smile & kiss her head. “You’re right, good job.” or jj could show up in front of her literally dripping in sweat, & she’ll say; “you’re sweating.” & jjs all like “really? shit i didn’t even notice, thanks sweetheart.” - 🍄

this kills me bc unironically this is so me, i do this all the time ! 😭

🌺⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚👙˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡🐚

john b n jj as a duo would get such a kick out of it, jj always coming back with something sarcastic to point out how obvious it is whilst john b simply absentmindedly strokes your head and says “yeah.” all quiet and calm, occasionally smacking jj to get him to behave.

john b especially is so used to it that he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. he’s laying back on the couch at the chateau with his eyes shut, listening to you repeatedly press the on button on one of the lamps, only for no light to come out.

“the lamp is not turning on.” you observe simply, and without opening his eyes, john b knows the resolution.

“why do you think that is, pup?” he asks gently in that low raspy voice he gets when he’s tired.

“because it’s not plugged in.” he can hear you turned to look at him to answer so he cracks an eye open, giving you a small smile and a nod as he rests a hand behind his head.

“right.”

jj often meets your obvious remarks with lighthearted teasing as mentioned before, the blonde leading you into an abandoned church with the pogues as you follow a lead.

“the lights are off because the church is very old.” you inform jj quietly, sticking to his side as you blink uncomfortably at a cluster of cobwebs in the doorway. he licks his lips, glancing as you as he’s halfway through working a torch out of his cluttered backpack.

“nothin’ gets past you, huh babydoll?” he sarks, gently moving you aside by the waist to walk infront of you for protection purposes.

with rafe he honestly pays it no mind even if he does think it’s kind of cute lowkey. you’ll have your cheek smushed tiredly to his chest as he steers his boat out on the open water and he’ll feel you wriggle an arm free to point tiredly at another boat nearby.

“theres another boat here.” the comment made sense to say in your head, rafe’s sunglass- shielded eyes flickering in its direction carelessly before returning his gaze to the open water, expression not changing.

“yeah, no shit baby.” he mutters, but a few minutes later he presses a kiss to the warm crown of your head.

🌺⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚👙˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡🐚

[eden-evergreen]

Your boyfriend walks in on you while showering

eren jaeger (aot) + ohma tokita (ka).

synopsis -> mini drabbles, with a whole lotta fluff <3. established relationships; eren’s story set in a modern domestic setting

warning -> mention and description of constipation in ohma’s story, nothing vulgar — just a heads up to not dent your appetite if you’re consuming food. it wasn’t meant to be as unhinged as it was, but i think it would’ve happened between him and his s/o at least once T_T

Eren

It was when he heard the whoosh of the shower and assumed you were going to take a while in there… as you always do… and he needed to use the toilet.

Slightly premeditated? Perhaps… but he couldn’t afford to wait 20 minutes and you decided to take a shower after you washed the dishes together… just as you warned him. He also wanted to see you naked, because it felt like forever since he last all of you… its only been two days.

You remained focused on yourself as he snuck through the door caressing your skin and humming a sweet tune… he was incredibly silent against the background noise of the shower.

You turn around to reach for the soap when a foggy big figure appeared in you peripheral.

“AHHH”, you snatched the glass shower screen open and peaked your head out, “Eren, you almost gave me a heart attack?! Can you let me know when you’re gonna come in please??”

“Sorry love”, he says as he flushes the toilet and washes his hands, “you look good, mind if I get a better view?”. He licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. If his eyes where a representative of his stomach it would be growling right now, you looked delicious and he was starving.

“Hmph, fine… but lets keep it PG okay?”.

He rips his t-shirt over his head “Yeah, of course”, the swiftness of his response was not very convincing. But then again, its hard to keep it PG when he looks as good as he does.

Ohma

Ohma is has a colossal appetite. Appropriately so, it takes a lot to maintain his broad physique and fuel his extreme training programme. As he’s off training the majority of the day, you’d sometimes make his dinner after work. He’d rather you not do it, especially since he comes back so late causing you to go bed much later than you should’ve. Plus its a lot to make at once… a family pot’s worth of food will only last about a 2 dinners with him.

Tonight you decided it was worth it as it was a weekend so you could afford the later night’s sleep — and hopefully some extra time with him. You made a hearty portion of mixed meat skewers — his favourite.

Ohma was very grateful for the meal, kissing your forehead before digging into the feast. You save some aside for yourself, eating alongside him in a comfortable silence. He continued to eat his meal as you finished yours and made your way into the shower. You assume Ohma’s going to join you when he’s done so you could wash his back.

Instead he barges into the toilet damn near breaking the door! He sits on the toilet seat letting a huge one rip he groans soon after.

“OH COME ON OHMA!!!”, you whaled, quickly grabbing your towel and escorting yourself out the bathroom.

“Too… much… protein —”, he groans continuing to defecate with the door open.

That poor man. You love Ohma, you really do… but his proteins sh*ts are none your business. Its given with how much of it he consumes on a daily basis, you’ve had a couple of blockages of your toilet before but he was careful enough to make sure you weren’t exposed to it. Until now… he was clearly suffering.

You swung the door shut behind him as he buried his head in his lap, groaning at the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. You put on some slippers before going downstairs, checking if he’s washed his dish(es). You come to find all the meat… two days worth is g o n e.

After an hour he seemed to have stabilised. He took a shower before joining you on the sofa with his head in your lap, cheek smooshed against your pillowy thighs.

You caressed his black locks brushing them out of his eyes, “you shouldn’t have eaten the 3 trays of meat Ohma”.

“I know, but it tasted so good…. And your cooking is much better than mine”. He winced in pain, closing his eyes in an attempt to mask the pain, “your ass looked sexy in the shower by the way”. He smirked before wincing in pain once more burying his face in to your lap. You scoffed at his comment:

‘Men are such simple beings’.

[modelbus]

streamer!reader who doesn’t like spending money on themselves x tommy who loves to spoil his gf

The man who refuses to spend money on himself spending it all on his gf… I like it.

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Spoiled Streamer

You aren’t sure why he’s like this.

Tommy won’t even spend money on himself! His biggest purchase was a hundred-dollar lightsaber he adores, and even then he still calls it stupid that he bought it. All signs pointed to him being a stingy motherfucker.

So why, exactly, did he buy you practically everything you use to stream?

God, if only you had the answer.

He just walks in, chucks something at you, then walks out. Sometimes it’s small, a thing of your favorite candy or a stuffed animal. Other times it’s the three-hundred-dollar headset that’s been sitting in your cart for months.

It’s not that you don’t love the gifts, or that you don’t appreciate them, it’s that you can only allow him to buy you so many things before you start protesting. Really, you don’t need anything he gives you! You keep it all, obviously, but still.

And it’s impossible to hide from your viewers. Once, you mentioned wanting a lava lamp on stream. After a moment, you had stated you’d never actually buy one, considering how you just never seemed to get around to it.

So how the fuck were you meant to explain the lava lamp that appeared next stream?

Tommy isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s spoiling you to death from your fans. He threw a stuffed animal of your favorite Minecraft mob at your face on stream! On three separate occasions!

So you might’ve started fighting with fire. He gives you a random mousepad? You give him a set of raccoon stickers. For some insane reason, you thought it would genuinely work.

Instead, you started a war.

On this fine Monday morning stream, you’re anxiously awaiting him to discover your latest comeback to him buying you a whole goddamn shelf. Not one, not two, but three giant Lego sets.

He’d probably be so in awe that he wouldn’t even strike back. It was the perfect plan! So, you weren’t too worried about him interrupting your stream. Until he does.

“How did the sheep escape again?! Where are they getting out?!” You scream, waving your hands fiercely at the screen. It was like magic! You look away and they're all over your house!

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, popping his head into your streaming room. He’s holding two bags, and you sigh.

“Hi, Toms. What’s up?”

“So, Wil was talking to me ages ago about back support or whatever. I completely forgot about it until today, Y’know?”

“Uh-huh…” you’re not sure where this is going exactly, but you have an idea.

“So I bought you a back pillow for your chair!” He exclaims, holding the item up.

“Tommy!”

“It’s for your health! And I bought myself one too!”

Oh, if he bought himself one, then it was fine. It wasn’t part of his spoiling war. You didn’t know when he started caring about back support or posture or anything, but maybe it’d actually be helpful. Especially because of how bad his posture was.

“Oh, and you know the gaming chairs we were looking at?”

“Weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I bought you that one you liked. It’ll be here in two days; I got the fast shipping.”

“The one I- Tommy!”

“Bye!”

He waltzes out, shutting your door behind him and leaving you gaping. The chair he was referring to was about the same price as the three Lego sets you bought him. And it was a single chair!

This was absolutely ridiculous, and you aren’t afraid to voice that to your stream.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” You groan. “I don’t need a new chair! Fucking insane! He’s fucking insane!”

Secretly, you’re just a little excited. It was a really nice chair, okay?!

“What do you guys think? Why are you all laughing? Stop! Stop laughing at me!”

You stop reading chat, fighting the smile that wants to show at the messages. Because even you have to admit: Tommy spoiling you? It’s sweet.

But you can’t let that show, you have to play up your act. So you flit your eyes back to your screen and what you were doing originally. It wasn’t like you could fight Tommy on the chair, he was quite the stubborn person.

“My sheep!” You cry out, realizing even more escaped. “No!”

“Oh, forgot these!” Tommy exclaims, opening your door just to throw a box of candy at you then shut it.

“Ah!” You exclaim, barely managing to catch it. “TOMMY!”

From outside the door, you hear him laugh.

[starfleetshrimps]

i love star trek bc it's actually a high school theater production most of the time. We focus a lot on the over-acting, theatricality of the actors and the directors, and that's all well and amazing, but /I/ want to focus on the /TECH/ bc ASHAijnjsdnbhgaARREghghhuuagjkshdmhbAHJBSSHJHIEJBnkjsdjhbsdhjBmahbsjshsbHkjnswkjshsn yea.

FIRST THE SETS?!? they're so silly and stupid? i know they get a lot of shit but the amount of work (not to mention styrofoam) that went into building individual sets for each planet they went to? like sure about 50% of the away missions take place in the california desert (the arena, *cough cough*, etc) but the rest of them have individually made sets that look PRETTY GOOD MAN. they get the point across, they're FUN, and innovative, and they really don't reuse planet sets all that often as well.

PLUS they used traditionally /theatrical/ cycloramas with painted backgrounds and classical cyc lighting (reminiscent of mariano fortuny's domed cyc! i WILL talk more about lighting) which look really cool and once again get shit for being unrealistic.

it's not supposed to look realistic it's supposed to look cool as shit. and it does. shut up. <3

if you view the sets as being modern TV sets then yeah, they're weird, and they look sorta bad, but THEYRE NOT modern TV sets: they're THEATRICAL SETS FROM THE 60-70S. AND I LOVE THEM.

SECONDLY, THE

lighting

while it's true that some shows in the 60s were developing new lighting styles specifically for TV, remember that in the year 1950 less that 10 percent of US homes had a television. this shit was new. COLOR tv was ESPECIALLY new. nobody knew how to light these things! and actually why would you need a new lighting style, we already KNEW how to light dramatic productions, why would we ever need to reinvent the wheel Stanley Mccandles, Mariano Fortuny, and Gene Rosenthall already invented says Gene Roddenberry and Jerry Finnerman (the head lighting designer). and oh my god i am so ridiculously glad. because the lighting. is so good.

i HAVE seen others talking about how good it is in the super early episodes (Charlie X and the conscious of the King, etc.) and i do agree! but i disagree that the quality goes down. i think it just got a tad bit more subtle as the show went on and it gets less in your face, harder to notice. but i noticed. because I'M the WORST (and also a lighting tech)

the impossibility of listing every example of amazing theater lighting choice they made is absolutely horrific and nasty so i'll just lost some my my favorites:

the cyc! i mentioned before but the cyc they used on away missions was only painted when they needed a specific scene in the background, otherwise? that bitch was LIT. and i LOVE IT.

any of the scenes where they light spock's face have green and half pink? or even just washing the walls behind him? i eat that shit UP. the METAPHOR. the CONFLICT. i will acquiesce that green and pink are (and were) pretty goddamn industry standard gels (color-films) to add to lights, for subtle contrast, but this is not subtle. it is LOUD. was it purposefully done from a storytelling perspective? no idea. is it cool as shit and interpret-able as hell? absolutely. also sometimes they do it with just green when they want to emphasize his vulcan-ness and other him a bit. like they do it a lot when he's in his room in amok time. anyway.

whenever they shutter a light so they can emphasize a character's (kirk, we're talking abt kirk here. and *sometimes* spock, and also Charlie in Charlie X but yeah mostly kirk) eyes when they say something #Deep, or just pre-commercial break closure worthy line. it's so SHJSDJBFEJNKN. to add onto this, they'll do a striking half-wash over half of their face sometimes in conjunction and it looks So Good

The GOBOS. sometimes, they'll just throw light through a gobo, or wall screen, or something, for /visual interest/ and it looks so silly i love it sm. does it make sense from a realism pov? nO. but star trek is a theater production actually and they lit everything using mainly naturalistic techniques! amazing!

honorable mentions: the glowing time donut, and the entirely random colors in the hallway.

there are so many other examples but this post is long enough lmao. notice the lights next time you watch tos!!,! please!!! <3

[3terna15unshin3]

hi!! would you consider writing a blurb where matty has the rahab conversation with este? like he sits down and really explains what it was like and how be struggles (maybe there’s some tears and este is super supportive and comforting)

love your work sm <3

Hi!!! thank u!!

I must say tho, I have very little knowledge on or personal experience with drug addiction and rehab, so i didn’t really feel comfortable writing anything more in depth just in caution of accidentally portraying it inaccurately or using insensitive language or romanticizing it in any way. since i do think it’s a bit odd and some ppl do cross a line when using his addiction as really intense and triggering angst😬😬😬

only sometimes tho! it can be tastefully done :) and i’m glad u requested it! anyway thank u again here it is hehe

(tbsg series masterlist) ((also please send me more requests i’m desperate))

warnings: mentions of addiction and drug use, angst

To stand it upright, Matty lifted the heavy metal to him and Este’s newest piece of furniture for their bathroom. He had spent the past half hour building the majority of the shelf, with Este passing him any tool or screw he was needing. Now that the contraption was standing, they only had a couple of stray pieces to get attached.

But before he could, his ringtone sounded. Este glanced at his screen and watched it flash ‘Frankie’ across the top. She racked her brain to think of if she’d known such a person, but it didn’t ring a bell.

“Just decline it for me, love.” Matty instructed after reading who was ringing.

She obliged and pressed on the power button to hang it up. “Who’s Frankie? Don’t want to speak to him?” She said jokingly.

He chuckled a bit. “Not that I don’t want to speak with her, maybe just not at the minute. I’ll just call her back later,” His wrist twisted a screwdriver to secure another slat.

“Oh, okay.”

Frankie’s a girl, Este digested. She thought it was a bit bizarre that Matty didn’t answer her first question, but rarely let her contextless thoughts develop into jealousy. Este’s nosy self was more eager to know what the call was about—regardless of who it was from. But she decided to leave it.

He threw her a smile and leaned all the way over to plant a kiss on the skin right in front of her ear. “Mind passing me that last screw?”

Este doesn’t mind, smiling back as blood rushes to the spot where his lips once were, while he silently continued building. When Matty glanced back at her, the shelf now complete, he could read the curiosity on Este’s face. So, he elaborated. And Matty didn’t mind elaborating when he was with her. Since he knew she’d listen.

“And Frankie’s a woman I met in rehab. We’ve kept in touch since so she calls time and again,” Matty explained, “She usually wants to talk something out, since she’s had a bit of a rough journey since treatment. Not a lot of family left. Whether it’s for advice or just for someone alike to listen. But I’m in manly-builder-testosterone mode. Didn’t feel like a good time to answer. Even though she does enjoy sharing what she’s been through and would probably love to meet you. I don’t want to unload all of her shit onto you. For your sake,”

“If her shit’s on you then it can be on me. I don’t mind. Your shit is sort of my shit too,” she said.

They burst into laughter as both of their eyes diverted to the toilet they sat next to, the ironic and gross sounding language making them giggle.

He stood back to admire the shelf that stood beside the sink, raising his hand to chew on the skin around his nails. Once his explanation was finished, his mouth stayed shut and slightly pressed. Eyes darting around the space to make sure everything was in place. Este could see that the topic was making his muscles a bit tense.

“Yeah, it is.” Matty agreed, still laughing at the poo jokes. The two of them started to transfer the various body and skin care products from the draws below the sink onto the freshly built shelf; in comfortable silence.

“I guess I haven’t really told you much about my recovery, have I? Rehab, and everything,”

“No, not really.” She shrugged, not wanting to pry.

Eventually the sink didn’t look crowded anymore, and the supplies that usually sat messily were organised. Having only recently moved in together, it was an obstacle to have to balance their belongings in the same space. So, Este sunk down to sit on the floor and lean against the wall to rest in satisfaction. They’d made good progress.

He copied her and they sat hip to hip.

“I spent most of the treatment I did in Barbados alone, believe it or not. There were plenty of nurses and doctors, but I was pretty isolated. That was until I met Frankie.” Matty tucked his knees under his chin. “I think meeting her was the first time I met anyone just as a human—no self expression, no signs of culture, no pre-conceived expectations, no representation of status. There was this insane level of purity within our connection. We were just two broken people,”

Este’s eyes didn’t leave his as he continued on. She listened intently and thoughtfully.

“But we were from the same road,” he revealed. “Not even just the same city, or town. The same road. Minutes of walking between where we grew up. And finding that out felt super emotional,”

His fingers fidgeted nervously, opening himself up more and more as he spoke. Matty found comfort in Este’s presence, though, and sought the feeling of her hand on the back of his neck or the in and out of her breath against his skin.

“Wow,” she whispered briefly, wanting him to continue. Este was fairly close, so the breath he craved grazed him ever so slightly as she spoke. It calmed him down.

“Since we’d been on the road for so long, and I obviously was having trouble coping with it, things had been so loud. Constantly. But I think the equine therapy, and meeting Frankie—it was the first time in ages things were quiet. And I really drank it in,”

She ran her hand up and down the front of his leg lovingly. “I’m so happy that you’re on the other side of that now. And that you had access to treatment that worked for you. That’s the hardest part sometimes,”

Matty nodded.

“The horses did do something, that’s for sure,” They chuckled together, “When we retire in like 40 years and move out to the countryside maybe we should get a couple. I’m a whisperer or sorts now, I think.” he suggested.

Este leaned her head down onto his shoulder, internally cooing at the mental image of the two of them growing old together. Maybe somewhere rural up north—near Manchester, to be close to family. She’d have a greenhouse and maybe grow fruits and veggies during the summer for them to eat. A couple of horses, like Matty suggested. Este had never met a horse in person, but she was sure she’d like them if he did.

“That sounds like a plan.”

He pressed his lips delicately to her forehead, dreaming of the same things that floated round in her mind. They lounged in silence—still sitting on the floor across from the sink and toilet.

“You know,” Matty started again, “I still have this dude’s number in my phone. He was my dealer here in London for a bit. I ran to him when I scored for the last time,”

There was a pained expression on his face, like he had to work through his own disdain for that time in his life before admitting it aloud. It shocked Este, realising that speaking about his addiction could be so heavy; since he was usually so open and honest about it to anyone who was curious. But this was different, as Matty dug to the parts of himself that he had learned to keep personal. He didn’t have to think twice about letting Este see them, though.

“It was early 2019. I’d been clean since rehab—and at this point I’ve honestly forgotten what brought me to the point of relapsing. But what I do remember is the morning after. I saw my mum and Louis. And it just broke me,” His sentences had long pauses between them and his voice broke over and over. The sound of it sent a pang through Este’s heart, the two of them immediately nuzzling closer into each other’s comfort. “The guilt was all-consuming. I was so ashamed knowing that I was hugging my little brother still strung out from the night before. Smiling at him while lying about being clean,”

Matty dropped his head into her lap, slow salty tears trickling onto her bare thighs. She wiped them away, hands lingering on his face since she knew he liked them there.

“Oh, Matty,” A lump formed in her throat but she swallowed it down. She spoke gently. “Can I ask why you still have his number?”

He thought about it for a second. “It’s sort of a reminder, I guess. That I have the power now. That if I wanted to call, I could. But I don’t want to anymore.”

Matty’s eyes looked up towards Este and they shared a bittersweet smile. He laid his hand on top of hers that still sat cupping his cheek, lifting it to plant a kiss on her palm and quickly setting it back.

“And I know that if I ever wanted to—even a little bit—that I’d have you there. To tell in a heartbeat. And the boys, and my family. We’d do anything we’d need to do. Together.”

And with their bottoms against the cold concrete, Matty picked up his phone to call Frankie back, fearlessly pressing the speakerphone button. Este interlaced her fingers with his, waiting for her to pick up, and their chests rose and fell in sync.

[not-a-space-alien]

Savage Sunset Chapter 21S

In this chapter: Stimming, and unpleasant secrets come to light

Warnings: Weight discussion, mentions of rape and torture (off-screen)

Story masterpost

Complementary chapter

***

“All right, up you go.”

Still in his pajamas, Valen tentatively stepped up onto the bathroom scale.

Ari scrutinized the numbers.  “All right, 73 pounds!  You’re getting there, big guy!”

“How much did you weigh before all this?” Lex asked.

“A-about a hundred and ten pounds, I think.”

“That’s still on the light side,” Ari said.  “We’ve gotta fatten you up.”

“He’s already gained ten pounds.”

“Yeah, it’s a wonder what three square meals a day can do to ya.”

“Thank you,” Valen said cryptically.  As usual, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.   He sounded like he was about to cry.

Ari asked, “Everything okay?”

“It’s just–it’s just been a lot.”

“Of course….You just take it easy.  You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

They’d needed to wait a while for his legs to un-break themselves, but that’d been sped up considerably now that he was no longer starving.  He’d been getting more steady on his feet, and seemed to actually have some energy and maybe, if you squinted, even start to develop some muscle and fat back.

Ari helped Valen back down the stairs and into the living room.  She eyed the coffin.  “Um…  So…I promise it’s okay…But…”

Lex followed Ari’s gaze and immediately knew what she was thinking:  Valen had once again torn up his pillow.  Both the pillow case and the pillow itself had bite marks all over, the filling spilling out.  “Oh.  We can replace it again, don’t worry.”

Valen wrung his hands.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I keep ruining them.”  His eyes watered.  “I’m trying not to, but I do it in my sleep.”

“It’s okay,” Lex said, taking his elbow.  “It’s not a big deal.”

He broke eye contact, looking down, face red.

“I noticed that you grind your teeth and bite things when you’re awake too.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tears spilling over.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not–I’m not–”

“Relax,” Ari said, putting hands on his shoulders as though to push him back into his body.  “We’re just trying to figure out how to fix whatever problem you’re having.”

He sniffled and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.  “It’s an anxious habit.  It was–chewing on the muzzle was really the only thing I could do sometimes.”

Lex’s heart broke imagining all the times he’d been in massive pain and unable to move, the only activity available to him grinding his teeth on the metal bit in his mouth.  That would…also explain why all his teeth had been a little bit worn down, from the constant wear against the metal surface.  “It’s okay that you do that.  I don’t think you should try and make yourself stop.  Can you open your mouth for me for a minute?”

He did so, still not making eye contact.  Lex noted his fangs were fully grown back in.  His teeth didn’t look damaged at all–having restored themselves from their ground-down state–but there were threads of fabric stuck in them here and there.

“Do you want us to get you a chew toy?” Lex asked.

Valen shut his mouth.  “A chew toy…?”

“I bet the kind they make for dogs would stand up to your chewing better.  Or we could try and find a binky, or something along those lines.”

“....Yes, I would like that.”

***

Lex and Ari had continued to go on patrol–they’d taken a few days off work to help Valen, then once they’d settled into a routine and felt comfortable leaving him home alone, started to go back to work.  They did need the money and couldn’t just not go back to work….but they did try to avoid running into any actual vampires, the situation at home weighing heavily on their minds.

They stopped at the store on the way home, in the hours when the sunrise was still young, and bought several dog toys that looked like they could take some serious biting.  They also tried to find the biggest pacifier they could.

While they were in the children’s section, Lex noticed the books.

“You can’t be serious,” Ari said, as Lex picked up a few nonfiction books that looked to be for middle-schoolers.  “The man was practicing advanced biochemistry when we found him.”

“I’ve seen him reading, but he never turns the pages and just kind of stares at it blankly.  I think he needs something to….ease him back in.”

“...Well, it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least.  Keep the receipt, we can just return them if he doesn’t want ‘em.”

When they got home, Valen was in fact doing the exact thing Lex had noted.  He had a virology book open on his lap, but he was just staring over it at the window, where the curtains glowed from the sunlight they were holding back.

“Hey,” Lex said, kneeling by the coffin where he was lying down.  “We got some things for you.”

The paper bag crinkled as he dug inside it.  “Oh. Thank you.”  He picked up one of the books and flipped it open.  There was a picture of an elephant, with simple text next to it telling elephant facts.  His eyes drifted over the text. He slowly ran a hand over the picture, then grabbed one of the pacifiers and put it in his mouth, chewing it quietly.  Once again, it was impossible to tell what he really thought, but he seemed to make heavy use of the gifts over the next few days, which seemed like a good sign. 

***

Lex was now recovered enough that she felt confident to help feed Valen, so he now had four people feeding him.  Ari seemed to warm up to being fed from a little bit more, and Bailey and Jerome came over as often as they could, too.  He was still massively underweight, but he started to lose the sallow, skeletal appearance fairly quickly with the amount of support he was getting.

Valen was still visibly nervous, though.  He was reserved, and still didn’t seem to trust Lex and Ari fully.  Which was completely understandable, but if there was anything they could do to speed that up, that would probably help Valen feel safer.

Once when Ari was talking on the phone with Nick, Lex saw him physically flinch.  His hearing was good enough that he could probably hear Nicks’ voice just as well as Ari, and he immediately climbed back into his coffin and hid, a mass of quivering blankets.

“You’re okay,” Lex soothed, rubbing his back through the blanket.  “He’s not here.”

“Does-does he know where you live?”

“No,” Lex said.  “No, he doesn’t, remember?”  Lex had reassured him of this probably about a dozen times by now.

Valen huddled under the covers, two red, watery eyes peering out from under the blankets.

Ari quickly finished her conversation and hung up the phone, coming back in.  “Nick is still trying to rope someone else into getting a live capture.  I think he’s getting desperate, because he called just to tell me the bounty’s gone up again.”

Valen let out a terrified whine.

“We’re not giving you back,” Ari said firmly.  “We’re not letting him find out you’re still alive, and we’re not letting anyone else take you.  You say the word, and we take you straight to the border.”

Valen peeked out from under the blanket.  “You were talking to him.”  He said it in an accusatory way.

“Nick? Yeah, on the phone,” Ari said, not seeing his point.

“And at work sometimes, yeah,” Lex added.

“You were talking to him like he’s a person and not a monster.”

Lex and Ari looked at each other, then back at him.  “He’s fucked up,” Ari said.  “But everything he did, he had permission for.”

Valen burst into tears.  Lex’s stomach sank.

“...Right?” Ari said, suddenly alarmed.

“No,” Valen wept.  “No, no, a thousand times no.  He came back at night when the compound was empty because everyone was out on patrol.  He opened the coffin when he was alone, he broke the rules all the time.”

“What?” Ari growled.  “What for?”

“Ari,” Lex said.  Fuck, fuck, she almost didn’t want to know the answer to Ari’s question, but she also thought it was unfair to ask….Especially since Valen was now crying so hard that he couldn’t even get the words out to answer.

Ari knelt, steadying him and supporting him in her arms.  “Breathe, breathe, you’re okay.”

Lex handed him a tissue.  He took it, but was still crying too hysterically to use it.

“Let it out, baby,” Ari said.  “You’re okay.”

Valen took in great, sobbing gasps, wiping his eyes, then blowing his nose.  He wiped his cheeks, which were flushed with black blood.  “S–sorry.”

“You’re okay.  Let it out.”

His lip wobbled.  He grabbed the stuffed cat Lex had put in the coffin, hugging it.  “Nick has a shocking sadistic streak that he knows how to keep hidden.”

Ari stood, palming her mouth.  “All right.  Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Lex said.  “We didn’t know.”  She was still lying to herself.  They’d suspected.  But none of them had cared enough.  It’d bothered them, a little, but they’d still been in the “he deserves it” phase.

“He did it all the time.  When we were alone.  He, he, he would do anything he couldn’t get away with during the day under supervision.  Things that–that could have no possible justification.  Humiliating things, senseless torture, rape-”

“What the fuck,” Ari said.  She was turning a cartoonish shade of red with her anger.  “I’m going to kill him.  I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Lex felt sick.  It was fucked up enough the things Nick had done with permission, but there had at least been reasons for those.  Not even the director would approve of meaningless torture.  And oh God, Valen hadn’t even been able to tell anyone that this was happening, this whole time.  Nick had known he could get away with it, because letting Valen talk had been the one thing they’d all known to avoid at any cost.  “We need to tell the director.  He needs to know.” 

“We can’t,” Ari said, through gritted teeth.  “We can’t do anything with this information without everyone finding out Valen is alive.”

Valen took one of the chew toys and put it in his mouth, grinding anxiously.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.  I’m going to shoot him as many times as bullets I have, and then I’m going to get more bullets and shoot him some more.  They’re going to be scrubbing him out of the carpet for months afterwards.”

“Ari, shut up,” Lex said.  Valen had pulled the blanket back over his, still shaking with fear.  “You just said we can’t do anything to let anyone know Valen is alive.  And getting yourself arrested isn’t going to help anyone.”

Ari left the room.  Lex could hear the punching bag Ari always used when she needed to let off steam being beaten half to death.

Lex knelt down.  “What do you want us to do, Valen?”

Valen breathed heavily for a few moments, looking positively overwhelmed.  Then he finally admitted, “I don’t know.”

Ari came back in, still breathing heavily.  She had a foil package in one hand.  “Take this.  All of it.”

Valen hesitated, then took the package.  It had several small white pills inside.  “What is it?”

“Emergency contraception.”

Valen’s eyes widened  “You don’t think–It isn’t possible, surely, for a human and a vampire…?”

“I don’t know.  But I’m not taking any chances.  The whole pack.”

“Will it even work?”

“It’s hormones, so if testosterone injections work on you, then maybe.”

Lex was so horrified that for a moment, she wanted to protest that this wasn’t necessary, that surely Nick hadn’t…

But if Nick hadn’t, then Valen would have said they weren’t necessary.  But instead, Valen just looked grim and started pushing the pills through the foil to swallow them.

***

“Try the bolt cutters again.”

“We’re not trying the fucking bolt cutters again.  We already saw that didn’t work.”

“I don’t think we’re going to make any progress this way.”

“We might if you give me longer than ten seconds!”

“We might have to use the saw.”

“We’re not using the fucking saw.  You’re going to take his damn head off.”

Valen clearly looked nervous about the direction the conversation was taking.  He was currently bent over the workbench among a nest of tools and books spread out around him.  Ari gripped his head with one hand, pushing him down a bit painfully on accident, and he winced.  “Fuck me, I didn’t expect this to be so hard.”

Ari continued jamming the lockpick into the padlock keeping the metal collar on Valen’s neck, grunting in frustration, consulting the books on the table, which all had diagrams of locks.  It’d been years since she’d picked a lock, but she was determined to get this stupid thing off Valen’s neck today.  She’d suddenly decided it was urgent to get it off, and now had the energy of an irritated, tired father on a road trip as his family sits in cowed silence, afraid to worsen his mood as he drives.

Ari took a step back, letting him stand upright.  “And you’re sure you can’t break it now that you’ve gotten some strength back.”

Ari had already asked this a good three or four times.  Lex had stopped bothering to remind her that the equipment was vampire-proof and therefore Valen would never be able to break it no matter how strong he was, that was the point.

Valen indulged her, hands pulling on the collar, then at the lock.   “Yes, ma’am, I’m quite sure.”

Ari scowled. "All right. Lex, hold the light." Valen craned his neck upwards, wincing away as Ari went at it with the lockpicks again.

"Maybe we can try and get the key off Nick-"

"No, I'm not doing anything that could clue that maniac into the fact that we have Valen."

Valen’s breathing sped up noticeably. 

Ari started to huff and puff angrily, motions becoming agitated. She eventually broke a lockpick and tossed it to the ground, cursing.

"All right, let's take a break," Lex said.

Ari plopped down onto the chair they kept downstairs next to the workbench. "Fuck.  I can’t–I can’t–I still can’t believe he did that.”  I can’t believe we let him do that.  She hated Nick, and she hated herself.  There was only one thing that could make her hate herself a little bit less.

She stood back up and attacked the collar again.

“Ari, stop, take a break.”

“I’m fixing this,” she snarled.  “I’m getting it off, I’m fixing it.  Give me the saw.”

“Ari, you’re scaring him.”

Ari looked up and realized Valen was cringing back, frightened by her intensity and anger, eyes squeezed shut.

Ari dropped the lockpicking stuff.  “I’m sorry,” she said, finally letting the tears well up in her eyes.  “I’m so fucking sorry we did this to you.”

Valen looked at her for a moment, then his face softened.  He reached out to touch her elbow.  She pulled him into a hug, burying him in her ample bosom and broad arms, and cried into his hair.  “F-fuck.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

His arms tentatively came around her.  “I’m…not going to say it’s okay,” Valen started.  “Because it isn’t.  But when we make mistakes, what matters is what we do after that.  And you’ve chosen to do everything within your power to fix things, even though it meant confronting your own feelings of shame and guilt.  Looking uncomfortable truths in the eye takes courage and integrity, and for that I admire you.”

This was the moment at which Ari fell a little bit in love with him.  She decided to handle this by choking out, “Wow, okay, Aristotle.”

Lex let out a laugh, slapping Ari on the arm lightly.  “You goofball.  Come on, sit down, let me try for once.”

Ari sat down, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Lex, considerably more calm and steady-handed than Ari currently was, gave it a try.  Valen seemed visibly more relaxed now that it was Lex’s hands on him, and she spent a minute examining the diagram of the lock with all its pins.  She took the lockpicks and started fiddling with it.

The lock popped open.  “There, see?  Nothing we can’t fix.”

***

Tag list <3

@aceouttatime

@annablogsposts

@cc1010foxy

@darlingwhump

@dokidokisadness

@emcscared-whumps

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@nicolepascaline

@oddsconvert

@pigeonwhumps

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@some-thrilling-heroics

@soursagas

@thecyrulik

@the-scrapegoat

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpycries

@whumpsday

@zillastar13

[saphscorner]

haiii im still fanboying over ur mumscott fic it was so cute 😭💜 i was wondering if you could write anything with cleo/jimmy? they're my silly rairpair

HEY THERE! i love your silly little rarepair and i genuinely had so so SO much fun writing this! thank you so much for the request, my eyes have been opened and i'm suddenly so in love with the zombiebird dynamic. hope this does them justice! <3 word count: 1210 words pairing(s): cleo/jimmy warnings: none general tags & vibes: fluff, caught in the rain, established relationship, kissing, alternate universe - college/university (<- pretty unimportant but mentioned in the exposition)

Cleo and Jimmy had spent the last few hours caught up at a cafe downtown. Their afternoon had been a sort of hybrid coffee date and study date, and it was easy to lose track of time over cups of coffee, and distracting each other from getting any work done.

Sometime in the afternoon, the drizzle of rain had picked up, and the sun, concealed by thick gray clouds, had disappeared entirely. Not only was it dark by the time they were ready to leave, but downpouring. 

Jimmy had gotten up to throw out his and Cleo’s paper napkins, but stopped as he caught a look outside. He hesitated as he got his first proper look out the window at the downpour. It was setting in that they were twenty minutes from the nearest bus stop, and entirely underprepared with no umbrella or rain coats. 

“Don’t tell me we’re going to have to walk in that,” he complained. 

“We could wait it out,” Cleo offered. “I mean what’s another hour, right?”

Jimmy opened his phone to check the weather, then shook his head. “Not a chance. It’s only going to get colder if we let it get any later,” he explained, heading back to the table to hand his phone to Cleo. 

Cleo furrowed their brow as they leaned in, looking at his screen to see that the rain was only supposed to intensify over the next several hours as the temperatures continued to dip lower. One way or another, they’d have to walk to the bus station, and the longer they waited, the worse it would get. 

Decisively, she stood up. “So it’s cold and wet now, or colder and wetter later.”

Jimmy shot another glance at the window. “Yeah…” 

“You know what? It’s fine,” Cleo insisted with a laugh. “We’ll just run!” 

Giggling, Jimmy nodded in agreement. “Right, we’ll just run, okay, good plan.” 

Clearing their dishes and packing their bags, there really was no other choice. Still, Jimmy hesitated by the exit, not quite ready to brave the cold.

“It’s fine,” Cleo said again, unconvincingly. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jimmy agreed, seeming equally unassured. With that, however, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the rain. 

He shuddered as the first few cold droplets hit his face, raising one arm up over his head in a feeble attempt to shield himself.

As the door swung shut behind her, Cleo grabbed Jimmy’s hand. “Come on! Not getting any warmer,” they teased, setting off at a brisk pace with Jimmy in tow. The wind whipped her hair, and she used her free hand to try to pull it back out of her face. 

Jimmy matched her strides to keep up. The rain made it hard to see, and the force of the wind slowed them down, but still, he gripped Cleo’s hand and pushed on. 

“I’m going to need such a shower after this,” Cleo complained. 

“We’ll warm up when we get back to the apartment!” Jimmy reasoned. “I’ll make you tea, oh, and we have leftover soup! I can put on a movie, you know, light a candle-” 

“Yeah, we’ll get all cozy and make a blanket fort,” Cleo half-joked. 

“We can!” said Jimmy. “We can make a blanket fort!”

Cleo giggled. “I’ll make a blanket fort with you, Jimmy.” 

Warm, domestic daydreams kept Jimmy distracted as they pressed on. 

The twenty minute walk was nearing its end with only a block left to go. By then, Jimmy could feel his socks and sneakers growing soggy despite his attempts to dodge puddles. He was clearly better off than Cleo, however, who cursed as they turned a corner, losing her footing on a crack in the pavement. She stumbled forward, her left foot coming down in a puddle hard enough to splash water up to her shin. 

“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked. 

Cleo groaned, lifting their foot out of the puddle, watching water drip back onto the pavement from the soaked leg of their pants. “Come on! That’s the last thing I need.” 

Jimmy’s brow furrowed, noticing how soaked they were already. They looked pretty miserable, and there wasn’t much he could do to instantly make that better.

So instead, Jimmy let go of her hand and took a step back. He stomped his own left foot into another ankle deep puddle, wincing as the water splashed all the way up to his knee. With that, he took Cleo’s hand again, and set off. 

Cleo laughed, gazing at him in disbelief. “What was that for?!”

“We’re even now, see?” Jimmy gestured down at his own drenched leg, still continuing to walk. 

Cleo only laughed harder, her shoulders bouncing. She had to pause for a minute to brace herself from laughing so fiercely, the rain momentarily forgotten. “Jimmy, that’s so stupid!” 

“No it’s not!” Jimmy protested, coming to a stop beside her. “See, look, we’re in the same boat now!” 

Cleo still couldn’t stop giggling. “No, no, I get it, I just… Oh, Jimmy.” When they finally calmed down enough to regain their composure, they grabbed Jimmy’s other hand. “It’s stupid, but I love you so much for shit like that, you know.” 

Jimmy’s cheeks went red, smiling as he gazed down at both of their feet with their matching wet shoes. “Yeah, it’s a little stupid.” 

Cleo’s hands slid around to Jimmy’s waist, and at once, she pulled him in to kiss him right there in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Jimmy melted into it at once, touching Cleo’s cheek as he kissed them back. The rain, the cold, and the wind didn’t matter anymore. He could forget about it all, forget where he was to be isolated in that moment with Cleo, dissolving into their warm embrace. 

The screeching of brakes from down the street was what finally pulled them apart. With her hands still around Jimmy’s waist, Cleo turned in time to see their bus pulling up to the bus stop. She sprang apart from Jimmy.

“Jimmy! The bus!” She laughed. She gestured at the bus where it was stopped and took off running. 

Jimmy was still warm and thoroughly distracted from Cleo’s kiss, and it took him a moment to remember where he was and come back to reality. “Oh no!” He laughed, tripping over himself as he made a break for it, waving one arm over his head. 

They were breathless, soaked and laughing as they made it in time just before the bus pulled away. They stumbled up the stairs, grabbing onto each other and the nearest handholds. The doors swung back shut, the bus drove off, and they were suddenly out of the rain. 

Jimmy was still catching his breath, one of Cleo’s arms wrapped around him as they each reached up to hold hand grips hanging from the ceiling. 

“At least we made it,” said Cleo. 

“Yeah… I really owe you that cup of tea though!” 

As he looked over at them, Jimmy couldn’t help but smile. Cleo looked so perfect, their cheeks red from the cold, curly hair wild from the wind and dripping onto the floor of the bus. They were wet, and frazzled, and gorgeous. Jimmy had never felt luckier. 

When Cleo met his eyes, she smiled back. 

[bengiyo]

A Boss and a Babe Ep 10 Stray Thoughts

Last week we experienced probably our choppiest episode yet. It’s a real bummer, because I continue to root for New Siwaj, but the final act conflicts always cause confusion. Gun and Cher were outed at work, but that was quickly squashed by Gun’s mom. Cher found out that another colleague had planted the evidence about Thyme stealing the game and decided to take the fall for it to protect her job…for reasons that just don’t track for me. Gun and Cher broke up as a result and both were very sad about it. Gun got drunk at a bar and so the bar called Cher who was his most active contact, and the two were able to reconcile for the second time in the episode. Now, Thoop has been arrested. At the very least, we had a Gay Boy Cuddle Pile.

Trigger Warning: rape mention and a rapist showing up on screen, along with mention and discussion of suicide in part [3/4]

Thoop, are you really mad that the police didn’t believe you? Where’s the shut the fuck up video?

Real shit, it is sometimes useful to have a Super Gay like Gun in your queer circle for when we have problems that only money can solve. Sometimes folks like Gun can keep a program running quietly for years.

I completely get Tub and Jack. Three and Zo would get tiresome after a while.

The gamer boys care a lot about each other, and are careful about how they talk to each other. It’s refreshing.

I do still love Gun. This man understands commitment and showing up when it’s important.

Gun pulled out his stern voice when Cher pushed too far with the old jokes. Surprisingly funny to see Cher retreat.

So if Gun has known about Cher taking the blame all this time, what the hell was most of the last episode for? I hate when they do all this testing nonsense and then waive it off.

I like that these two have good apologies. I just hope that we don’t immediately contrive another conflict five minutes from now.

I feel like this one guy plays a cop in every GMMTV show.

I knew this was going to eventually be the reveal about what happened to Tian, but it’s still upsetting and gross.

Gun is solid. Maybe I’m being influenced by how much I’m enjoying Jeng on Step by Step, but I do like having characters who can manage a crisis and don’t overreact to someone’s emotional outbursts at them.

Jack is correct. Thoop being arrested for possession is a big deal.

And of course someone saw them sitting outside of a police station all night. Now the mom is demanding they break up AGAIN.

Was one of them watching Star in My Mind before Cher showed up to tell them the news? Joong is paused on YouTube in the background.

I enjoy the parallel from earlier with Cher showing up at Gun’s place this time.

Oh hell yeah! It’s 2023 and we all verse now!

There’s a lot of threads active in this show. I don’t necessarily dislike them, but the timing isn’t really satisfying. I also feel like the mole plot was kind of a letdown.

[snuggerudism]

"I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it." with either kniesy or chesley because idk who the prompt fits more

gonna do this with chesley because i think it fits him more <3

is this on the fluff prompt list? yes? did i add a sprinkle of angst? idk, you’ll have to read to find out

you tried to not let it bother you. at first, it was easy to ignore, as he was in playoffs mode. but they ended, and nothing changed.

you just wanted to be held by your boyfriend. was that too much to ask?

you’ve had a really long, and stressful day between work and classes. your boss had tried to convince you to stay an extra hour at work, but you couldn’t, because you had class.

because of that extra time, you had shown up 20 minutes late to class, extremely embarrassed.

oh, and you had coffee split all over your pants.

you really needed to feel ryan’s arms around you the second you walked through the door.

but instead, you found the sophomores on the hockey team in ryan’s living room, shouting about whatever video game they were playing. “y/n? are you okay?” jimmy snapped you out of your thoughts.

ryan hadn’t even looked over from the screen when jimmy said your name, too focused on the controller and game on the television.

“yeah, i’m fine. i should go anyways,” you wiped the tears that escaped your eyes. “ryan look like he’s busy anyway.”

at the mention of his name, your boyfriends head snaps to the door. “oh, y/n? you didn’t tell me you were coming over?”

y/n. not babe, or baby, or any other sweet pet name.

“yeah, sorry, i-“ you cover your mouth to hide the sob that is about to escape you. “i just wanted to see what you were up to.” you lie, sending him a fake smile.

unfortunately for you, jimmy is not as oblivious as your boyfriend. he pulls you in the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

you glance over, seeing that ryan has gone back to his video game.

jimmy stomps over, gently hitting your boyfriends shoulder and whispering something you can’t hear.

ryan’s eyes soften, and he passes the controller off to john before walking over to you.

“hey, hey,” he wipes the tears that pour down your cheeks away with his thumb. you don’t realize you’re in his room until he sits you down on the bed, a hand on your back. “what’s wrong? what’s making you this upset baby?”

you only start to cry harder. you weren’t able to hold in the tears anymore. ryan not paying attention at first, combined with the awful day you had sent you over the edge. “you don’t love me ryan.”

he freezes at your words. “of course i do baby.” he’s so confused.

you grow annoyed at his words. “really? because jimmy had to tell you i was crying for you to even care that i was at the door.

“y/n, babe, i-“

“i just wanted you to hold me. i’ve had an awful day, and lately, i just haven’t been feeling like you’ve been putting in effort for our relationship.” you’re honest with him, emotions spilling out of your body.

“oh baby.” he wraps his arms around you, laying down on the bed. he’s tracing shapes onto your top.

“these clothes are so uncomfortable.” you mumble, head tucked into ryan’s chest.

“here, change into some of mine,” ryan gets up, grabbing a pair of clean sweatpants and one of his many hockey t-shirts.

as soon as you’re done changing, his arms are back around you. this is exactly what you

"i do love you, you know. even if i’m shit at showing it." he smooths a hand over your hair.

“i just would like if you could make a little bit more of an effort to show affection. it doesn’t have to be over the top or anything, i just want to be held sometimes.” you let the truth spill out, a weight lifting off your chest.

“i can do that baby. i promise, i’ll make more of an effort.”

“thank you.” you let your eyes slip shut, curling further into ryan.

[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

[diodellet]

he's the romantic one (simeon x gn!reader)

ay new smut with the angel man! but also please stop torturing me with your beauty!! i am BRoke!!!! content warnings: -reader is described as flat-chested (no mention of genitalia) ++established relationship shenanigans (of the movie date variety), some finger sucking and mentions of spit, gratuitous nipple play, frottage, handjobs word count: 2.6k words minors do not interact

With the weak volume of your laptop's speaker, you have to share a pair of earphones with Simeon, sitting close enough that your thighs touch.

"I-I don't get why they've got to hook up in the middle of the apocalypse. Ew—" You clap a hand over your eyes with a smack.

"Eh? Are you alright?" You should be thrilled. He's got his attention now trained on you.

"Mhm, yeah. I'm fine. It's just—ew what the fuck they're kissing—" In your blind search to lower the volume, your fingers accidentally increase the volume even more. You scream in tandem with the actors' moans and yank up the collar of your shirt to obscure your face, dislodging the earphone out and cutting yourself off from the audio.

Thankfully, a pair of hands shuts the laptop screen closed, putting out the last of your bedroom's light.

"I didn't think a romance scene would put you off."

Your face is still burning from the ordeal that you were put through. But you could project it—your mortification—onto that, the movie. Sitting back on your palms, you fumble blindly for the earphone. Simeon hands it to you and you quietly thank him.

"I-it's the end of the world!" you reasoned, "why would they be doing something like that? Shouldn't they be trying to—oh, I don't know—survive?"

He laughs, a carefree sound that doesn't contain a hint of mockery. You then feel the weight of his head leaning against your shoulder. "You can't blame them for wanting to... commemorate their last few days together." Maybe it's the darkness of the room, making you hyper aware of his presence beside you. You can hear a hint of wistfulness in his voice. Well, he did have a sense for romanticism.

There was a running joke that he was the cheesy one. Something something, mansplain, malewife.

"'Commemorate,'" you snort. "You sound like the type who'd wanna get married before having sex."

"And you're the one who started screaming once the leads kissed." His laughter doesn't let up. "I didn't quite peg you for the shy type."

It's not like you were completely inexperienced! You open the laptop and readjust the volume. You've watched porn and read erotica. You were given the talk about the birds and the bees, and sometimes you've indulged in your needs with your hand. This was a completely natural thing that happened, especially in movies. But even with all that knowledge...

"Actually...it was when it cut to their naked bodies but still." You protest, "I'm not shy... It's just, I'm—" You wince at the change in angle as it focuses on their faces, focuses on all the nasty sounds their lips make as they sloppily make out. "—grossed out by bodies...Why does it sound like that—they're so...into it, eugh." You turn your head away and instead look at a patch of blankets lit up by your laptop's screen.

Unaffected by the scene in front of him, Simeon muses thoughtfully, "I guess the acting might not be your cup of tea. It does seem a bit...forced." He was a writer himself, but more than that, he was an angel. Did he ever have to think about these things outside of his line of work? Well, he might not have had much reason to initially, you reason. But if he was with you now... your mind starts wandering. Did he think of you in those situations? Did casual skinships like this—sitting thigh to thigh, hands brushing against each other, little contact points to hardly exchange warmth—also have any effect on him?

If you hadn't ruined the movie watching with your annoying screaming, you were definitely ruining the experience by continuing to make a scene out of this.

"It's so bad, I can't continue watching," you groan, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyesockets. Your cheeks still have yet to stop burning with secondhand embarrassment. Your own hands reach out to shut the laptop screen closed a second time. This time, deliberate. "I'm sorry, I'm—ugh."

You are a mess.

The silence of your room combined with the thump of your pulse in your ears compounds your discomfort. "Would you have wanted to watch something else?" you ask. Why did you turn to face him? You were both sitting in darkness, so it's not like he could see you.

Simeon scoots closer to your side. He makes a non-committal noise. "I don't always watch this kind of genre, so it was interesting." His hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt, with his gloved fingertips pressed against the small of your back.

Your posture straightens at the feeling against your bare skin. "I probably ruined it, didn't I?" you blurt out.

"Well, your reactions partly made it interesting." His hand rises to rest against the base of your shoulder blade.

Thanks for calling me juvenile, you think to yourself. Your hands tighten into clammy fists, creasing the fabric of your bedsheets. "Simeon, I love you, but I think you're just saying things—" Your sentence tapers off into a surprised squeak when his palm brushes against your front.

The little noise seems to echo throughout the confines of your bedroom. "I do mean it, really, I do," Simeon reasons, his other hand snakes around your waist. Both of his palms, warm and gentle and all of those good sensations, are cupping your chest. It isn't quite stimulating, but nonetheless, it leaves you anticipating for more. "I did want to do more than just watch a movie with you though." You then hear a note of suggestiveness creep into his voice.

Your pulse speeds, buzzing with excitement. You can't fight the growing smile on your lips. "What do you mean by 'more'?"

The longer strands of his hair are tickling the side of your head as he leans closer to you. "Let me touch you, please?" he whispers right against your ear, low and breathy and needy. And you feel your pulse stutter at the sound of your name falling from his lips.

He's already been touching you, you want to say. But your words get caught in your throat. And all you can do is place your hands atop his, lean into his touch. One of your hands searches for him—

"Mm!" The firm press of his lips to yours makes you melt in his hold. Equally needy for him, maybe greedier for more. But Simeon, with all his patience and his considerate nature, is a slow lover. His tongue slips into your mouth. He isn't doing anything forceful, but you can feel your breath being stolen away. Even in his gentleness, there's something almost lewd and obscene in the gesture—He wasn't boring, far from it.

You were just impatient. Needy. Greedy.

Simeon pulls away, lightly panting. Your own breathing is also quick, chest rising and falling underneath his palms. You can feel drool running down the side of your mouth. Thank God you're under the cover of darkness in your room, he won't have to see the accompanying dazed expression on your face.

"I...hah... thought you were going to...touch me..."

"Hm? I am." His lips graze the side of your jaw—

—then the junction between your neck and shoulder— "...but...I thought..."

He hums, waiting for you to gather your words. "Thought what?" You feel his breath ghost along the center of your nape.

Was he really going to make you say it aloud? Heat creeps up your neck. You swallow tightly in a vain attempt to dispel the growing fluster. "I thought you were going to touch my...chest...a-ah Simeon—"

His gloved palms squeeze the sensitive flesh and you arch into his touch. You catch yourself, biting off the moan that threatens to escape your throat. Instead digging your nails into the skin of his wrist.

"I haven't forgotten about these," he reassures, "just let me take care of you."

The heat emanating from his body is persistent against your back. Both sides of your body are bracketed by his legs and it leaves you no room for escape. The most you can do is shift your legs in a vain attempt to relieve the growing pressure between your thighs. The tips of his fingers idly trace circles around your areolas, the gentle motion teases your nipples erect.

You're very much sure that the darkness of your bedroom is adding to it, multiplying the sensations tenfold. When he pinches the nub in between his fingers, it tears a high-pitched keening noise from your throat. Your chest pushes forward to lessen the twinge of pain. Your arousal is hard to hide at this point, you're sure that he can feel you shifting on his lap.

"Wouldn't you want me to turn around?" Your voice comes out in a whisper. So you can face him and also run your hands along his body. Maybe even get to feel him put his mouth on your chest. You want—no, you need something to occupy your hands, instead of just having them sitting there.

Instead of leaving you helpless. Passive. Subjected to his touch. A mere recipient.

"No, not yet." His hand leaves your chest and you whine at the loss of touch. Your dismay only elicits a soft laugh from him. Your ears pick up the sound of rustling fabric and before you can piece together its source, you feel the tip of his finger prodding at your bottom lip. "Will you open up?" he asks. Oh. So he took off his gloves.

You don't need to be told twice. You open your mouth and lave his fingers with your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as the digits explore your mouth. Pressing down on your tongue, brushing against the inside of your cheek, grazing the edges of your teeth, coating them in even more of your spit. He doesn't push until the back of your throat, only shallowly fucking the inside of your mouth with his fingers. The slow deliberate movement sends you further down your arousal, filling your head with fog. Your hips thrust against empty air, searching for some kind of relief. It feels good but it's not enough—

"Mm...just like that," Simeon praises before withdrawing his fingers. Your lips feel puffy, more drool slips down your chin. You chase after his hand only to be pulled flush against his chest. His spit-laden fingers return to toy with your nipples and the newfound sensation wrings out a pitiful mewl. What you would give to have his fingers at the junction of your thighs.

"Simeon, let me touch you too, please..." you whine, unable to keep the building frustration out of your voice. You can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, an insistent heat against your lower back. Wasn't he getting impatient too?

You feel him turn you around to pull you into another deep kiss, feel him swallow your long drawn-out moan, swallow down your frustration and need until you're wrenching away to gather air back into your lungs. Simeon, not quite, sated moves lower and mouths at the hollow of your throat. Moves down your torso to seal his mouth around one of your nipples. His other hand doesn't stop groping at your chest, doesn't stop palming at the heated flesh. Every brush of his tongue and fingers against your overstimulated nipples sends a little tremor through you.

The stimulus is almost bordering on painful, but in this position, you can grind against him. Savor the friction between both your groins. The fabric of your bottoms reduced to a thin barrier.

"Can I touch you too?" Your fingers ghost along his waist, hovering just short of making contact.

Simeon pulls away, releasing the nub with a pop. "Mhm." You feel him shudder as your hand brushes against the skin of his lower stomach. After unbuttoning his pants and taking his cock into your hand, you slowly drag the tip of your finger against the sensitive vein running along the underside of his shaft. His breath hitches. "...do it gently, please." His hold on you tightens and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You can't get enough of that sound, the shaky whimper and the addicting breathiness of his voice when he calls your name.

The steady stream of precum leaking from his tip makes it easy to meet every cant of his hips with your strokes. Your hand curls into a tight fist for him to fuck. "Don't forget about..." Your other hand guides him back to your chest.

"Mmh..." The flat of his tongue drags against your other nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. The gesture elicits a low groan from deep in your chest.

Quiet moans mixed with curses and praises, chants of your name and his, 'more' and 'need' and 'please', you're not sure who's saying what anymore. There's no one else to hear, but your attempts at stiflling the sounds—only making them just barely audible for the other—makes the darkness of your room all that more hallowed.

His thrusts grow more clumsy the closer he draws to release. You can feel your thighs straining with exertion. The only warning you get is the graze of his teeth against the nub, followed by him releasing your nipple to claim your mouth in another bruising kiss. And you feel him spill into your hand. Your pace doesn't let up, thoroughly milking every drop from him.

...

(You keep the lights of your room on a low setting, so that neither of you trip or knock against anything as you clean up. Not that you're a messy person, but going several rounds made a simple trip to the bathroom more difficult than it needed to be. You forego your shirt, leaving it hanging off the edge of your hamper. You give your chest a cursory glance and—oh. Those look...

You set the fresh shirt from your cabinet back down.

"Should I just go shirtless...they're probably going to chafe..." you mutter to yourself as you stare at the forming bruises on your chest. Prodding a finger against your nipple elicits a quiet, pained hiss.

You don't think you can understand his fascination with your chest. Much less why he always focused so much of his attention on the two little nubs. They were small, pretty much unremarkable. Well, the underside of the shallow curve sometimes felt ticklish, but more than anything, it took an agonizing amount of time to get you to feel that much.

"I wanted to see if you could do it hands-free." Simeon's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your shoulders tense and your hands quickly drop to your sides. While he's also clad in his underwear, his posture is relaxed, loose.

At your wide-eyed stare, he says, "you were kind of...talking aloud." His expression is sheepish, but there's an undeniable tone of fondness and amusement coloring his words.

It doesn't take long for you to piece together what 'do it hands-free' means. Your hand claps over your mouth out of mortification. "I-is that even possible though?" Your cheeks feel hot, you can't look him in the eye and duck your gaze. "Th-that has to just be a porn thing."

His lips are right against your ear and it sends more heat through your frame. You can hear the smile in his words. "I still think it's worth a try, don't you?" You remember how you were reduced to a whining, needy mess in his lap. If that's what an attempt entailed, then what more if it became a regular thing?

"Argh, shut up! Sleep!" You knock your pillow against the side of his head. It does little to dispel the fluttering in your stomach.)

*twirls hair* haha simeon having a thing for small tits... let me have this one (1) singular fantasy

anyway if you liked reading this, don't be afraid to reblog and holler in the tags. your comments mean everything in my fight against my inner saboteur.💕💕

[redrobin-detective]

Inevitable

“Superman,” Clark looked up from his phone to Batman. “A moment of your time, before you leave.”

“Oh yeah, yeah!” He said a bit too loudly causing some of the other Leaguers to glance at them. It was only a few months into this attempt at a unified hero League and it sometimes felt like it was moments away from collapsing. He was still getting used to having other people around, relying on them but it was also nice having someone to talk to about this. He and Bats quietly waited for the meeting room to clear out.

The other man stalked towards the blank screen and stared up at it. Clark wished this mountain base had windows but that was the price of secrecy. Bats said he was presently building a more secure base of operations. He promised Clark it would have a good view.

“So uh,” Clark began awkwardly, “what can I do for you?” Truthfully, he didn’t know Batman very well. Their cities were across the river from each other and yet he’d only met the man a few times before the Starro attack which created the League. The others seemed to think they were friends but Clark didn’t want to push it. He respected the man, was soothed by his calm confidence and carefully hidden compassion. He wondered what the Batman wanted with him.

“What do you think of this work that we do?” Batman asked quietly, hands clasped behind his back as he continued to watch the empty screen.

“Oh it’s fine I guess, busy with pretty crummy pay but it does have it’s rewards,” Clark said with a scratch at his head. Not where he thought this conversation would go. “Are you, uh, having second thoughts?”

The silence was answer enough and Clark’s eyes shot into his hairline. Of all people he thought might walk away from this fledgling League, Batman had not been on the list. It surprised Clark a bit to realize he’d miss the guarded, grumpy man.

“I’m not stopping,” Batman said after a moment. “After all that I’ve seen, I don’t know if I ever can. I suppose I find myself considering the impact not necessarily now but in future, of what the years and circumstances will make of us.”

“Okaaaaay,” Clark drawled, walking up beside the man because it wasn’t right to stare at his back for a conversation like this. “What brought this strange and slightly morbid topic.”

“A few weeks ago, we dealt with that rogue time traveler,” Batman began abruptly. “He made mention of future children, at how they would be ashamed of our poor performance.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Clark said, confused. He’d gone home that night and rubbed his legs anxiously in the bed thinking of himself, Lois and 3 adorable kids running around a picket fence lawn. It was silly and stupid but Ma said that hearts can be a bit a bit silly sometimes.

“I thought nothing of it at the time, either the man was baiting us or he was referring to one of the others. I’m-” he paused, “I’m not suited for family.”

“Hey now, come one, don’t say that-” Clark began.

“There’s a child living in my house now,” Batman said in something of a rush, like he couldn’t keep it in anymore. “It’s just a temporary foster placement, until a more suitable home is found but it’s been a week and he’s picked out his favorite spots to hide in, his favorite mug and my... housemate is taken by him. He’s likable, despite everything.”

“You have a kid?” Clark gaped, unable to process the idea. “Like a real kid?”

“I might,” Batman said, shooting him an annoyed look at Clark shut his mouth. Batman turned again but he shifted ever so slightly, curling his fingers behind his back. His frown was different than usual as well. Clark had thought the man was older than him, in his late 30s if not his 40s. But now he dials way back and would say the man probably wasn’t much into his mid 20s. He was probably around Clark’s age and that, that was scary.

He also probably didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this, if he was coming to Clark of all people.

“What’s he like?” He asked instead.

“Energetic doesn’t cover it,” Batman huffed but there was the faintest trace of fondness in his tone. “I don’t think he ever stops moving, bounding from here to there, crawling on the walls, dangling from ceiling fixtures.” Clark frowned, was that... normal? He didn’t know enough about human children to say otherwise. “He’s angry at the violence that brought him into my care, he wants vengeance. He screams and breaks things. He paces the house like a tiger in a cage waiting for me to let my guard down, for me to give up on him and let him loose onto the criminal who stole his life.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Clark says. There’s some small scratches on the man’s cheek, now that he’s close enough to look. They certainly could have come from small hands.

“The problem is, I understand. I felt the same way when I was his age. In many ways, I haven’t moved past that feeling. It was foolish to take him in, to think I could help him. I should have let go with more capable professionals but no one else seemed to understand what the boy was going through. I couldn’t walk away, I tried but I just couldn’t.” Batman admitted quietly.

“That’s,” Clark started and found he couldn’t continue. He considered himself a good person, knew it something you had to consciously work at. To take in a child, a scared child who’s lashing out, because you couldn’t ignore that kind of suffering. That was heroism that you didn’t find wrapped in a cape. “So what’s bothering you.”

“I never planned on keeping him when I took guardianship but I keep thinking to what the time traveler said. What if the child is still living in my home years from now, what if I have to work him through his trauma? What if I have to teach him to drive? Save for college? What if he learns about my work, work I have always done alone? I’m uneasy as to what the future holds.”

“I think you’d still be in this same position even without weird time traveling bandits,” Clark said with a smile. “The fact that you’re scared is good, scared means you know how serious this is.”

“I’m not scared,” Batman grumbled. “I’m rightfully concerned.“

“Of course, my bad,” Clark grinned. Batman shot him another look but it was less sharp and more questioning. It was an odd position to be in, Batman looking to him for help. “You’re a very smart man, Batman, one of the smartest I’ve ever met. But you’ve also got a big heart beneath all that kevlar. You took this kid in because you wanted to help them, so help them as best you can. I’m sure the people in your life will be happy to lend a hand as well. I don’t think you need to make a big decision now but you’re not someone to quit with the job half finished. And maybe when the dust settled, well then, maybe you think about the future.”

“I see,” Batman said with a nod. They stood in silence for a few moments, Batman thinking and Clark imagining a tired, nocturnal based vigilante watching his sorta kid climb the walls in the mornings. The idea didn’t seem quite so hard to imagine now. Maybe one day, he’d get to see it in person. “I will consider your words,” his gaze sharpened. “And if you repeat anything I have mentioned-”

“Aw, you’ve already got the overprotective dad thing down,” Clark smiled. Batman grunted and stalked past him. “Bats,” the man paused. “Take care of the kid, will you? It sounds like he’s been through a lot. I don’t know your circumstances but I like to think I’m getting to know you. I think you can help him but I think, I think maybe he can help you too. Family is the important gift we have.” Batman didn’t say anything else as he swept out the door.

“Bats is a dad, who’d have thought?” Clark muttered to himself to the empty room. But when he met Dick Grayson for the first time several months later, he would wonder how he could doubt such a thing. Bruce was awkward, strange, standoffish at times but his love was present in his every action around the boy and every child that followed.

Bruce had worried that day about the future but destiny wasn’t always a noose. Sometimes it was a string leading you to the people who you’ll cherish. When Clark sees Bruce interact with his growing family, in or out of costume, he realizes that some things are inevitable. Because people with hearts as big at Bruce Wayne’s cannot live without love.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction You Were A Part Of Dance Mom’s [Request]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

GIFS BELONG TO ORIGINAL CREATORS!!

I went with the reader being a teacher on the show rather than a mum or a student. Hope thats okay. I’ve also never watched so I hope I got it right? x

SEOKJIN:

Jin was a little shocked when he started to see clips of you popping up all over the place, you'd never mentioned to him that you'd been on a reality show before.

"What are you watching?" You asked as you walked into the living room to see Jin completely immersed in whatever it was on his gone,

"Just this old dance show," Jin shrugged it off as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. The main woman of the show was about to rank all of the girls and you were standing in the back of the room watching over everyone. You didn't play a major role in the show but Jin loved to watch you whenever he could.

"Oh?" You quizzed wondering what he could have found that would make him this happy to watch.

"Yeah, there's this one teacher on there that I love but she doesn't talk much." You smiled and nodded your head until you heard it. The signature sound of Abby's voice filled the air and you completely froze,

"What...what er, what's the name of the show?" you asked, trying to determine if it was too late and he would have already noticed that you were one of the teachers that helped with the girls. Jin smirked as he turned to look at you, 

"Come on, baby. Surely you know the name of the show you were on," A giant grin grew on his face and you groaned, throwing one of the pillows from the sofa in his direction and waiting for him to keep teasing you for it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He laughed as you sat down beside him and looked at the phone screen, you looked so different back then.

"Because I knew you would use it to tease me," You mumbled before he hit play and you watched the rest of the clip together.

YOONGI:

Ever since Yoongi had found out about you being on dance mum's he had been searching it up a lot and screenshotting every time you were on the screen.

"How many do you have now?" You grumbled as you heard the familiar sound of his phone taking a screenshot followed by him chuckling to himself. 

"In the folder?" He questioned even though he already knew what you were asking him about.

"Yeah,"

"About 653," He smirked looking at you before you rolled away from him on the bed not wanting to even think about what he could have in that folder. He was constantly using them to send to you as stickers during your conversations and you absolutely hated it.

"You have tons of me and the guys," He reminded you but it didn't make you feel any better about it.

"Because you guys are adorable, I was a dumb teacher who had to act like a bitch on a TV show for it to get views," You mumbled before he wrapped his arms around you and told you how much he loved you on the show.

HOSEOK:

Ever since you'd told Hoseok about it, he hadn't shut up about any of it. He was dying for you to show him some of the dances you had done with the kids on the show. Today was finally the day you'd agreed to do it but only a little, it had been far too long since your time on the show and you'd forgotten a bunch of the moves

"Contemporary was one of my favourites," You explained to him before getting up from the floor and glancing at him in the mirror to see him smiling up at you with complete "awe" in his eyes. Hoseok was completely in love with you and everything that you did and he was so excited that you were going to show him some of the things you'd worked on.

"Did you work with any of the dancers on their main stage pieces?" He questioned while slowly raising from the floor and stepping in front of you.

"Sometimes, why? Do you want me to teach you the same way I taught them?" You giggled before he nodded wildly at you, desperate to learn from you just as you were desperate to learn from him.

NAMJOON:

"I need a refill," You mumbled as you looked down at the empty fries that were on your plate and pouting a little. The two of you were out on a date together and you were still hungry after getting lost on a hike earlier that morning and not having food to eat.

"Don't you want to save room for dessert?" Namjoon asked while looking at you, both of you lost in your own little world and not noticing someone coming up to the table. 

"Excuse me?" A little girl asked making you both turn to look at her and smile,

"Could I get a photo please?" She asked while looking at the two of you, giggling a little. Namjoon smiled as he got up to pose for her, only for her mum to give him her phone so that she could take a photo of you and the girl together. 

"I loved you on dance mum's," She says before walking away making you smirk over at Namjoon who was blushing a deep shade of red.

"I forget sometimes that you're well-known too," He chuckled before you leaned across the table and gave him a kiss.

JIMIN:

It was just non-stop teasing from Jimin all of the time, not in a mean way but in a way you found just bearable enough to deal with him. He would constantly play soundbites from the show that you were speaking in and you would just stare at him, 

"I want everyone on their feet!" Your voice yelled out through his phone as you stared at him from across the room, glaring daggers into his face. 

"You're lucky I'm in love with you or I would drop that phone into a bowl of water," You warned him as he started to laugh, 

"Bold of you to assume I don't have backups of everything on here," You groaned at him and begged him to delete everything, only for him to play a soundbite of you yelling "no" dramatically.

TAEHYNG:

Taehyung was incredibly proud of you when you were on the show and he told everyone he could whenever he got the chance. It wasn't something you'd thought would be newsworthy but whenever Taehyung would talk about it, it would make you feel fluttery inside.

"Then she would always teach them these amazing dances! She just looked so beautiful!" He called out happily to the boys as he placed another clip onto the big tv to show them. 

"You ever get bored of watching back your clips?" Jimin whispered,

"I block the clips out and focus on the way he gets so happy to watch them," You admitted before Taehyung began to go into detail about the clip he was putting on.

JUNGKOOK:

The two of you were moving into a place together and he was packing things up into the loft when the box fell apart, revealing all of the items from the show you had kept over the years.

"You never told me you were on a show," He smiled looking at you as you sat down beside him and shook your head, 

"It was only for one season," You smiled looking at the memories you had. There were photos of you and the girls together, cards from when you were leaving and even a small trophy you had gotten for helping them out. 

"I want to watch the show," He told you as you let out a small whine, 

"You want to watch 8 seasons of a show just to watch me on one season?" You arched your brow and he shook his head,

"Let's just watch your season,"

"Us? You want me to watch it with you?" He nodded at you and put the box up into the loft with a smile on his face.

"You can give me all of the commentary," He smirked before rushing to find it online somewhere.

Tagline: @millenniumspec @chiisaiblog @rjdy-367 @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @ratherbfangirling @psychosupernatural @afternoonteabiscuit @lyoongx @periandernyx @heeseunger24​ @laylasbunbunny​ @jeonsorchid​

[mull3ts]

[ # 𝟎𝟒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut, Dilf! Aged Up! Sicheng, Unprotected Sex, Pantie Kink, Spanking, Name-Calling, Cum Play, Humping

It's not that Sicheng was completely saddened by his failing marriage, hell—his wife couldn't realize it was failing.

It's not any absolutely depressing event in his life either, it was just his personality. He was slightly hot-tempered, seemingly aloof to anyone who worked with him. Sometimes, he was a bit standoff-ish to his own wife. But then there's you.

The moment you stepped into his office, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Not to mention the way you two instantly clicked. When you two first spoke it was as if you'd known each other for years—only, you met him that day. As Sicheng's associates walked by his office, they nearly dropped their coffee to see their distant boss being so close to his newly appointed college student of a secretary.

One of the employees dropped her coffee upon seeing him smile at you so warmly.

The connection was there, but the tension.

Oh the tension. Even his wife saw it!

It was like you two were attached at the hip, always seen together by everyone. His wife once had to pull him aside from you for a moment in pure jealousy.

As of right now, the both of you took time to be together in one of his estates without the knowledge of anyone. But one can assume.

You placed one arm to one arm rest, trapping Mr. Dong in his chair. He sighed, looking up at you. "What ever does my darling need?" he said endearingly, grabbing your waist to sit on his lap whilst he watched the news in your room. You scanned his face up and down as he looked at you with pure curiosity. You smiled widely at him earning an eyebrow raise before his eyes went back to the screen.

Grabbing him closer to your face by the collar of his shirt, his expression never faltered. "I'm wet." you stated simply. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked, now looking at you.

You nodded at him. "M'kay" he shrugged, amused.

Throwing you on the bed, he removed all articles of clothing showing him the extent of your words. He severely underestimated you—you were sopping wet, slick coating your inner thighs deliciously. Mr. Dong let out a breath of shock, "How'd you get like this, baby?"

"I- I just thought of you" you admitted, embarrassed by yourself as you stayed bent over on the edge of the bed, all for Mr. Dong to see.

Undoing his pants, he chuckled at your answer. "Just thought of me, hm?" he teased, using his belt as a restraint for your wrists. "That's cute"

Stuffing your panties in your mouth, Mr. Dong then stuffed the head of his cock in your cunt—thrusting in ever so slowly. Only half way in, he cursed to himself while your eyes were squeezed shut, taking in the feeling of your walls stretching around. Never in your life would you think you'd get used to his size.

Finally bottoming out in you, he heard a tiny whimper of relief leave your mouth. Chucking, he rubbed the soft flesh of your ass before picking up his pace inside you.

Your squeaky mewls rang throughout the room mixed with the sound of the mattress shaking—not to mention the sound of skin slapping against eachother. "M'baby likes taking big dick, hm?" Mr. Dong asked, his voice groggy and a little throaty from trying not to groan as he spoke. After you gave no answer to him, he landed a sharp slap to your ass, "Fuckin' answer me"

Swallowing back the drool that threatened to fall from your mouth, you stumbled on your answer. "Y-yeah..." you answered breathlessly as Mr. Dong's pace sped up on purpose "I- Fuck M-mister...I love it!" you whined out, completely rushed out feeling your high threatening to hit you at any second.

"Mister D-Dong," you slurred out, your mind clearly not with you at the moment "M'gonna cum~" you wailed before creaming all over his cock, feeling every ounce of slick gush out on him.

Holding your belt clad wrists in his hands he cooed at you, "Good fuckin' girl." With his eyebrows knitted together, he pulled out and flipped your body to lie on your back. Stroking his dick, he ordered you to open your mouth—to which you obliged. He jerked himself off, looking straight into your eyes until the second he came all in your mouth. As expected of you, you swallowed, earning a low laugh from Mr. Dong.

Pulling his pants back on, he retreated back to his place on his chair to watch the news—ignoring the missed calls of his wife. Don't worry though, he'll call her back if he remembers. Dragging you with him, you sat atop his thighs. But the more you stared at him the more you needed him.

Feeling a wet spot emerge on his pants, Mr. Dong placed his attention back to you—who was unsurprisingly rutting your hips against his thigh. Once you met his gaze on you, you sent him a wink while he smiled at you like a complete idiot.

Truly, there was something about you.

HOT DILFS IN YOUR AREA

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NOT ABLE 2 TAG: @nolovenow @ourfullsunhyuck @waspyharmony @doiedoi @cherrrysung @myuuchuu

[97ft]

[ # 𝟎𝟒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut, Dilf! Aged Up! Yoongi, Infidelity, Unprotected Sex, Pantie Kink, Spanking, Name-Calling, Cum Play, Humping

It's not that Yoongi was completely saddened by his failing marriage, hell—his wife couldn't realize it was failing.

It's not any absolutely depressing event in his life either, it was just his personality. He was slightly hot-tempered, seemingly aloof to anyone who worked with him. Sometimes, he was a bit standoff-ish to his own wife. But then there's you.

The moment you stepped into his office, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Not to mention the way you two instantly clicked. When you two first spoke it was as if you'd known each other for years—only, you met him that day. As Yoongi's associates walked by his office, they nearly dropped their coffee to see their distant boss being so close to his newly appointed college student of a secretary.

One of the employees dropped her coffee upon seeing him smile at you so warmly.

The connection was there, but the tension.

Oh the tension. Even his wife saw it!

It was like you two were attached at the hip, always seen together by everyone. His wife once had to pull him aside from you for a moment in pure jealousy.

As of right now, the both of you took time to be together in one of his estates without the knowledge of anyone. But one can assume.

You placed one arm to one arm rest, trapping Mr. Min in his chair. He sighed, looking up at you. "What ever does my darling need?" he said endearingly, grabbing your waist to sit on his lap whilst he watched the news in your room. You scanned his face up and down as he looked at you with pure curiosity. You smiled widely at him earning an eyebrow raise before his eyes went back to the screen.

Grabbing him closer to your face by the collar of his shirt, his expression never faltered. "I'm wet." you stated simply. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked, now looking at you.

You nodded at him. "M'kay" he shrugged, amused.

Throwing you on the bed, he removed all articles of clothing showing him the extent of your words. He severely underestimated you—you were sopping wet, slick coating your inner thighs deliciously. Mr. Min let out a breath of shock, "How'd you get like this, baby?"

"I- I just thought of you" you admitted, embarrassed by yourself as you stayed bent over on the edge of the bed, all for Mr. Min to see.

Undoing his pants, he chuckled at your answer. "Just thought of me, hm?" he teased, using his belt as a restraint for your wrists. "That's cute"

Stuffing your panties in your mouth, Mr. Min then stuffed the head of his cock in your cunt—thrusting in ever so slowly. Only half way in, he cursed to himself while your eyes were squeezed shut, taking in the feeling of your walls stretching around. Never in your life would you think you'd get used to his size.

Finally bottoming out in you, he heard a tiny whimper of relief leave your mouth. Chucking, he rubbed the soft flesh of your ass before picking up his pace inside you.

Your squeaky mewls rang throughout the room mixed with the sound of the mattress shaking—not to mention the sound of skin slapping against eachother. "M'baby likes taking big dick, hm?" Mr. Min asked, his voice groggy and a little throaty from trying not to groan as he spoke. After you gave no answer to him, he landed a sharp slap to your ass, "Fuckin' answer me"

Swallowing back the drool that threatened to fall from your mouth, you stumbled on your answer. "Y-yeah..." you answered breathlessly as Mr. Min's pace sped up on purpose "I- Fuck M-mister...I love it!" you whined out, completely rushed out feeling your high threatening to hit you at any second.

"Mister M-Min," you slurred out, your mind clearly not with you at the moment "M'gonna cum~" you wailed before creaming all over his cock, feeling every ounce of slick gush out on him.

Holding your belt clad wrists in his hands he cooed at you, "Good fuckin' girl." With his eyebrows knitted together, he pulled out and flipped your body to lie on your back. Stroking his dick, he ordered you to open your mouth—to which you obliged. He jerked himself off, looking straight into your eyes until the second he came all in your mouth. As expected of you, you swallowed, earning a low laugh from Mr. Min.

Pulling his pants back on, he retreated back to his place on his chair to watch the news—ignoring the missed calls of his wife. Don't worry though, he'll call her back if he remembers. Dragging you with him, you sat atop his thighs. But the more you stared at him the more you needed him.

Feeling a wet spot emerge on his pants, Mr. Min placed his attention back to you—who was unsurprisingly rutting your hips against his thigh. Once you met his gaze on you, you sent him a wink while he smiled at you like a complete idiot.

Truly, there was something about you.

HOT DILFS IN YOUR AREA

TAGLiST: @vivilover @underratedmisfit @peachytan @wndrlevi @dyaidk @seventeenis-thedream @seokjennieee @moonchild1 @kimchitae @bbangtanlove95 @scqrl3tte @debicaptain-saturn @sukunasstomachtongue @enhypp @arcticmarshmallow @lvlyk1tty @isaaaaxhx @flwrprncss24 @burnedbythesun98 @telepathytae @papieami @cherryjungkookie @nmello8862 @raehayashi

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